Page 28 of Rules Of Engagement: St. Louis (In The Heart of A Valentine #17)

Chapter

Twenty

NAOMI

I changed clothes three times before Christian arrived.

The black dress was too formal for wherever we were going. The jeans and sweater were too casual for our first real date. The mauve dress hit somewhere in the middle, but now I was second-guessing everything about it—the neckline, the length, whether the color washed me out.

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered, checking my reflection one more time. “You've been sleeping with this man for a year. It’s just dinner.”

But it wasn’t just dinner. It was our first real date, our first time going somewhere together as a couple. The rules were gone, the boundaries were down, and I had no idea how to navigate any of it.

My phone beeped and I grabbed my phone from the counter and opened the text from Christian.

“On my way up.”

My stomach flipped. He was coming upstairs. To my place. Where he’d never been before.

I did a quick scan of my condo, smoothing down pillows that didn't need smoothing and straightening books that were already perfectly aligned. Everything was immaculate, as always, but suddenly it felt too sterile, too impersonal. What would he think when he saw how I really lived?

The knock on my door was soft but confident. I took a deep breath and opened it.

Christian stood in my hallway, wearing dark jeans and a coffee button-down that brought out the brown of his eyes. His fade was freshly cut, his five o’clock shadow groomed, and he was holding a bouquet of white roses.

“Hey beautiful,” his deep voice drummed.

“Hey handsome.” I accepted the roses, breathing in their subtle fragrance. “These are beautiful. Thank you.”

“You look amazing.”

“I changed three times.”

His dark laugh stimulated me. “It was worth it,” he said, stepping inside.

I watched him take in my space, the cream and gold color scheme, the abstract art on the walls, the view of the city through my windows. “This is nice, Naomi. Very you.”

“Very me?”

“Sophisticated, elegant, but warm underneath.”

I blushed, leading him into the living room while I found a vase for the roses. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“I’m good. Are you ready to go?”

I grabbed my purse and jacket, suddenly nervous again. “Where are we going?”

“I thought we’d start with dinner and see where the night takes us.”

Christian opened the passenger door of his Maserati, and I slid inside, immediately surrounded by expensive leather and his cologne. The interior was pristine and masculine, and everything was neatly arranged.

He got behind the wheel and reached for the radio. Jazz music filled the car, and I peered over at him.

“You can change that if you want to,” I said after a few minutes of us riding.

“This isn’t working for you?”

“It’s just... very formal. Very first-date-y."

Christian laughed and switched to a different station. Hip-hop filled the car with bass thumping lyrics that made my body move.

“Is this better?” he asked.

“Much better.” I relaxed into my seat and the music eased some of my nerves.

“I was trying to impress you.”

“You don’t need to impress me, Christian. I already know who you are.”

He glanced at me as we stopped at a red light. “You do, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

He nodded with a smirk then reached over and pinched my chin.

“You’ll get to know more of me, and part of that is finding out in this moment that I’m always trying to impress you.”

I smiled. “You are so consistent.”

“Am I?”

“You’ve been trying to impress me since our first date when you didn’t have to.”

He winked, and I winked back.

“It’s my style, you know.”

“I do know.”

And just like that my nerves had settled down completely. Without trying, Christian had calmed me, and that was something I couldn’t ignore.

We pulled into the parking lot of a small Italian restaurant I’d never heard of. The building was unassuming, tucked between a dry cleaner and a cell phone store, but the parking lot was full.

“This doesn’t look like much,” I said.

“Trust me. They have the best food in the city outside of Soulful.”

Inside, the restaurant showcased checkered tablecloths, wine bottles lined the walls, and the smell of garlic and tomatoes was heavy in the air. It was warm and intimate.

“Christian!” A short Italian man with graying hair approached our table, beaming. “So good to see you! And this must be the beautiful woman you told me about.”

I raised an eyebrow at Christian as the man kissed both my cheeks in greeting.

“Naomi, this is Tony. Tony, Naomi.”

“Welcome, welcome! I have the perfect table for you. Very romantic, very private.”

Tony led us to a corner table lit by candles, with a view of the small garden outside. It was perfect, but I was still processing what he’d said.

“You told him about me?”

Chrisitan blushed and it was the first time I’d seen his face fill with color in such a way. “I may have mentioned that I was bringing someone special.”

“Special, huh?”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

I laughed, knowing he was teasing me.

Tony brought us wine without being asked, a rich Chianti that paired perfectly with the bread and olive oil he placed on our table.

“So,” Christian said, settling back in his chair, “tell me about your worst first date.”

“Are you trying to make yourself feel better about your music choices?”

“Maybe.”

I took a sip of wine, thinking. “In college I had a blind date set up by my roommate. The guy took me to Chuck E. Cheese.”

Christian choked on his wine. “Chuck E. Cheese? For a date?”

“He said he thought it would be fun and nostalgic. Turns out he just wanted to play the arcade games. I spent two hours watching him try to win tickets to get a stuffed animal.”

“Did he at least win you the stuffed animal?”

“He kept it for himself.”

Christian was laughing so hard his guffaw caught the attention of other diners. “That’s terrible.”

“I suppose you’ve never had a terrible date then?”

He thought for a moment, taking a sip of his wine then clearing his throat.

“In law school, I took this woman to the most expensive restaurant in town, ordered seafood for both of us without asking what she wanted, and realized far too late once the food had arrived, that she was allergic to shellfish.”

I whistled. “That is tragic.”

“Tell me about it.”

We ordered and ate dinner and talked about everything—his brothers, my parents, college stories, and work disasters. It felt like I had gotten to know these people throughout our time together without actually ever knowing them.

“I’d love to meet your brothers one day.”

That must have surprised him because his brows rose along with a smile.

“I’d love for you to meet them. Is anytime too soon?”

“Not anymore. I mean, you’ve mentioned them from the moment we met so it feels like I already know them.”

He nodded. “I’ll plan a dinner. How’s that?”

“Are you cooking?”

He laughed. “You like when I cook for you, huh?”

“Absolutely. But you know that, don’t you?”

He bit his lip. “I might’ve had an idea.”

“I’m sure you did. I only devoured everything you put on my plate.”

He guffawed and I enjoyed our banter. Outside, a storm was brewing.

“The rain’s getting worse,” Christian said, glancing out the window as Tony brought our check.

I followed his gaze. What had been a light drizzle when we’d arrived was now a steady downpour, sheets of water ran down the restaurant’s windows.

“I should have checked the weather,” Christian said, pulling out his wallet.

Tony appeared at our table with an umbrella. “For the beautiful couple. The rain should stop soon.”

“Thank you,” Christian said, signing the check.

We stood at the restaurant’s entrance, watching the rain come down in torrents. The umbrella Tony had given us was tiny, barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

“Ready to make a run for it?” Christian asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

He opened the umbrella, and we stepped out into the storm. Within seconds, we were both soaked. The umbrella was useless against the wind-driven rain, and by the time we reached the car, we were laughing like children, drenched to the skin.

Christian fumbled with his keys as I pressed against him under the inadequate shelter of the umbrella. We were both giggling at the absurdity of it all.

“This is not how I planned for tonight to go,” he said, getting the door unlocked.

“I don’t know. It’s kind of perfect.”

He looked at me then, and a shift happened between us. My hair was plastered to my head, my makeup was probably running down my face, and my dress was clinging to every curve of my body. I should have been embarrassed. Instead, I felt alive.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

“I’m a mess.”

“A beautiful mess.”

He leaned down and kissed me, right there in the rain, soft and slow then deep and hungry. When we broke apart, we were both breathless.

“We should get out of the rain,” he said.

“Your place or mine?”

“Mine’s closer.”

“Then yours it is.”

Christian’s penthouse took my breath away.

I’d imagined it would be impressive, but the reality was far more extraordinary. The floor-to-ceiling windows covered one side of the entire penthouse, giving the aura of standing on top of the Eiffel Tower with expansive views of the city.

Against the dark sky, stars twinkled and lined the firmament like a well-crafted display of the cosmos, minus the planets.

Underneath my feet, Italian marble stretched across the floors, which looked like it belonged in a museum, polished to a gleaming finish that reflected the soft lighting throughout the space.

“Wow,” I said, with water dripping from my dress onto his expensive floors.

“Let me get you a towel before you catch pneumonia.”

The double height ceilings soared high above us, with coffered molding that was an architectural dream.

The color scheme was masculine, deep grays and rich browns, but there were unexpected splashes of color throughout.

A vibrant blue painting above the fireplace, gray throw pillows on the navy sofa, and a peach Persian rug.