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Swallowing the last of my bite, I look the woman dead in the eye.

“This is one of the most amazing things I have ever put in my mouth.” Dalton snorts into his coffee.

Kathy smacks him on the back of the head while I kick him under the table for good measure, while shooting a glare that I hope he can feel like a tiny gnome stabbing at him. Yeah, I know how that sounded. Shut it!

I try again.

“This is something special, thank you,” I say, gesturing to the food. “And the name of your place, what you’re doing for others. It’s… it’s really important.”

Kathy hugs the drink tray to her chest, flushing with pride.

“Thank you. This was our dream. And the name has two meanings. My husband, Mike, got cancer ten years ago and when he went into remission, we decided life was too short. We up and quit our secure day jobs in our fifties like two lunatics and opened the place we’d been dreaming about for years.

” She gestured to the surrounding building.

“A decade later, eight best of awards under our belt and thirty-five young men’s and women’s lives changed.

It’s been the best decision we’ve ever made. ”

A sudden sting flares behind my eyes, and I have to blink to keep the threatening tears in check. There’s a deep-seated pang, wishing I had had a woman like this for a mother. Or at least a role model. She’s selfless, bold, and willing to support others in need. The exact opposite of my mom.

“It’s amazing. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see the restaurant.”

She waves a hand. “Just an excuse to come back and visit again.”

“I will,” I promise and mean it.

“Enjoy your business meeting.” Kathy winks at Dalton before disappearing back inside. I can’t help but stare after her.

“You okay?” Dalton’s watching me from across the table. He hands me a napkin so I can dab the single tear that escaped. “That seemed… personal.”

I snort a sad laugh, forcing a wan smile. Was he always this observant, and I missed it last night?

“Clean slate rule, forty-eight. No judgement.” He adds, settling back in his chair.

Guess if I’m going to dump one of the bigger pieces of my baggage, might as well be to a guy who won’t have to deal with it tomorrow. That and, for some strange reason, I want Dalton to know.

“My dad did time when I was a kid. Admitted to owning drugs found in his car during a routine stop that were my mother’s.

Alice is a piece of work. Total user of both people and narcotics.

She convinced him to take the rap. Said she couldn’t bear being taken away from her little three-year-old baby girl, so he did.

Went to jail for five years so she could take care of me.

Which meant dropping me off at Gran’s house two days after Dad was incarcerated and disappearing with some rich guy she met online. ”

“Damn. Sounds like your mom and my dad would get along.”

“Guess every family’s got at least one asshole. I’m sorry you know what it’s like to have a crappy parent. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

Dalton’s expression softens. “Don’t be. I’m not. Our lives are better off without him. Do you miss your mom?”

“Hard no. She reaches out whenever she needs money and I avoid her like the plague.”

“And your dad?”

“I support him every way I can. Gran helped raise me, but Dad’s always been my rock.

After he got out, jobs were limited, and he’s been struggling ever since.

Worked the shittiest back-breaking jobs to keep food on our table.

I owe him everything. It’s hard not to think about how different our lives might have been if he’d had someone like Mike and Kathy after jail. ”

This place deserves all the publicity and all the funding to help more people like Benny and Vale. Like my dad. If I made better money, I would do everything in my power to finance them. A thought spikes. I can’t give them money, but we can give them exposure.

“Can I see your phone?”

Dalton cocks his head, staring at me like I just took a hard left in topics. Which I kind of did.

“I just need the camera. You don’t even have to unlock it. You trust me, right?” I throw his words back at him from the car when he took our first picture of the day. With a nod, he activates the camera and hands over his phone.

“I do. But why take another photo here? I figure the one of you getting out of the car would appease the social media gods.”

“Oh, Ramona will love it. But since today’s endeavors are technically about charity, I want to make sure the most deserving places we go to get the best press.

Most of the businesses and restaurants who participate in these dates offer free services because the marketing exposure more than covers their cost. But giving up free food for places like this costs them a lot.

Restaurants like this run a shoestring budget while busting their asses and they deserve all the free marketing.

I’d way rather help support a mom and pop shop with a heart of gold than a six hundred dollar a plate restaurant run by some egotistical chef. ”

Dalton sits back in his chair, gawking.

“What?” I tap my lips, looking for a crumb or smear of cheese.

“You, forty-eight. I didn’t think there were many women like you left in the world.”

I roll my eyes, “What, laden with relationship baggage, overly talkative and opinionated?”

“Sexy as hell and still compassionate.”

A balloon swells in my chest, pressing against my heart before I can tamp it back down. “There’s plenty of us out there. You’ve just been too busy fishing panties out of your pockets and dating fan girls to notice the rest of us.”

“And brutally honest. I forgot to add that part, too.” Dalton says, flashing a smile before reaching for his coffee. I level him with a glare, which receives a chortle that twists my stomach in a way I haven’t felt since I was sixteen.

Dalton watches as I arrange the tabletop, ensuring the gaps between the dishes allow for a peek of our legs below the mesh wrought iron top.

Once it’s perfect, I place my hand face up next to the perfect latte.

Dalton needs no cue. His hand hovers over mine, the rough pads of his fingertips tracing a pattern over the lines of my palm.

My breath hitches at the feather-lightness of the touch.

Each graze sparks my nerve endings, the sensation blazing into my fingertips.

My eyes shoot to his, but they’re concentrated on our hands, green irises following the patterns his fingers are working over my skin like the sensation is equally tantalizing.

Clearing my throat, I hold the phone up over the top of the table, stretching tall to see the screen and frame the picture.

It’s almost perfect. Suppressing a wicked grin, I scoot to the edge of my chair, careful not to break from Dalton’s touch, and stretch out a leg.

Wickedly slow, I trail my foot up his calf, tangling our legs together and letting my toes graze his inner thigh before coming to a stop close enough to his crotch to make Dalton’s fingers still.

His gaze springs to mine. The heat I saw there last night flares back to life, and it’s a damn good thing there’s a table between us.

A devious grin pulls across those perfect lips and his other hand disappears under the table to slide up my calf.

“Sexy.” He says with a glance at the screen, the word pulling from his throat with a gravel that wasn’t there a minute ago.

I adjust the camera again. “Sex sells.”

“Even in the name of charity?” His grip grows firm as the pad of his thumb makes slow circles. I’m left with the sudden wish I had a skirt on so I could feel his skin against mine.

“Especially in the name of charity.” I agree. And instead of upending the table between us to climb the man like a damn tree, I raise my fingers to trace a pattern of my own on the palm he still has hovering above mine. Relishing the hunger in his gaze, I begin snapping photos.