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“Then let me entice you with dinner,” he said, and pointed out the tinted window of the limo. “I sincerely hope you are in the mood for pancakes.”
She peered out the window and had to smother a giggle. The limo had pulled up to a roadside waffle joint. “I could go for some coffee at least.”
“Great.” He released her hand, opened the door, and then waited for her to exit the limo.
Kylie patted her pockets. “I left my wallet back at the concert hall.”
“I insist on paying. I’m sure they take credit cards.” He eyed the sketchy establishment. “Hopefully.”
And she giggled again. “Do you not eat at places like this often?”
“I can honestly say I don’t think I’ve been in one since college.” The grin he flashed her was so boyish, so charming, that she felt her heart do a funny little flip in her chest. “But I’m looking forward to the experience.”
“Because you’ve missed out on greasy sausage and stacks of pancakes?”
“Because of the company,” he said simply.
And just like that, her heart melted a little more. How was it that he always knew the right thing to say?
They entered the diner and sat down at a booth. The waitress brought them both coffee mugs and two plastic menus, and Kylie’s lips twitched as Cade considered the meal offerings very studiously, as if he were at the finest restaurant. “What do you recommend?” he asked the waitress.
“That you eat somewhere else,” she said, bringing a coffeepot and filling up both of their mugs.
And Kylie got the giggles again.
“But if you’re eating here, the waffles aren’t bad,” the waitress said with a wink at Kylie.
“Two plates of waffles, please,” Cade told her.
“Oh no,” Kylie protested. “I already had dinner.” And the last thing she wanted to do was be the fat girl stuffing her face on an impromptu date with a gorgeous man.
“I insist,” Cade said, and the waitress disappeared. He leaned in and added, “I figure if I come down with something toxic, I’ll have company in the emergency room.”
And she couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from her. She shook her head at him and picked up her coffee mug. “You’re incorrigible.”
“So I hear.”
Still smiling, Kylie gazed around the restaurant. It was nearly empty, the only other person a trucker sitting in a booth at the far end of the diner. For some reason, this felt cozy. She glanced at her date and decided to go for the typical “getting to know you” first date questions. Why not, right? “What is it you do, Cade? I’m curious.” She took a sip of her coffee.
“I’m a billionaire.”
She choked on the mouthful of coffee. Hot, scalding liquid went down the wrong pipe and she grabbed a paper napkin and coughed into it.
“You all right?” Cade asked, leaning in. “Should I fly in a team of doctors to see you?”
Kylie gave the most undignified snort-giggle. “You’re horrible.”
“I really am a billionaire, though.” He gave her a rueful smile.
“Of course you are,” she murmured. Because why not? He was already perfect in every other way. Buttloads of cash instead of a working man? It didn’t surprise her. “Have you always been incredibly wealthy?”
“Not in the slightest. I grew up in a trailer.” He grinned at her surprised expression. “It’s true. But I went to college on a scholarship, and met the right people. Graduated summa cum laude, started working at a hospital in the finance department, and met a friend who wanted to patent some new medical equipment. I’d been making the right investments, and so I backed him as an investor partner. He sold his patent for seven hundred million two years later. From there, I supported a few upstart companies and the next thing you know, I have my hands in a dozen other related patents. And medical technology patents are worth a fortune.” He gave her a crooked grin. “I try not to let it get to my head.”
“Of course not,” she murmured, taking a more careful sip of her coffee.
“In all seriousness, I do try to stay a bit humble.”
“Uh-huh. How many cars do you have?”
The grin he gave her was perfectly boyish. “Twelve, but I have a friend who is an automaker. So that’s an unfair question.”
“Uh-huh,” she teased, but she was smiling.
“So, what about you? Why makeup?”
Kylie grew silent. How did she explain to a beautiful man who had scads of money that, growing up, she’d never felt attractive or valued, and so she’d learned to make her outside pretty? That makeup had power and it was her way of claiming some of that power? She wasn’t sure he’d understand. So she shrugged. “I’ve always liked makeup.”