Page 37 of Something Reckless

ALBA

O n the drive to town, we don’t talk much. But Easton can’t stop staring. His eyes barely stay on the road in front of us for more than a few seconds at a time, as he keeps peeking in my direction.

It’s the dress. I’m sure of it.

Laney talked me into this dress that shows way too much of my boobs, and now they’re just spilling over the top like two eager puppies begging for attention.

“You’re making me nervous,” I say to Easton when I catch him with his eyes on me for the millionth time. The heat from his body and the scent of his cologne filling the car put me even more on edge.

“I’m sorry,” he says with an embarrassed chuckle. “You’re just…I can’t…” He clears his throat. “You’re stunning. That’s all.”

My cheeks prickle and sting, my blush only intensifying. “Thank you.”

This feels weird. I’m definitely not used to this type of attention, especially not from a man I’m so freaking attracted to. But instead of deflecting the compliment, I practice feeling like I deserve it. That’s what tonight’s all about, right? Practice.

Easton pulls into a parking spot across the street from Le Trésor des Fées and cuts the engine. His eyes shift toward the restaurant.

“Are you sure you’re okay with eating here?” he asks me.

My gaze follows his, taking in the warm light that shines through the large front windows. Twinkle lights sparkle between the climbing vines that scale the brick facade, all the way up to the eaves. The conversation and laughter of well-dressed patrons float across from the street-facing terrace.

I shrug. “It’s fine. I promise.”

Does it feel a little weird going on this so-called date at the same restaurant where I waitress a few times a week? Yes. It does.

But in Fairy Bush, there aren’t too many options for fine dining, especially when you’re trying to get a last minute reservation. We’re lucky to even get a table here tonight, particularly in the middle of tourist season.

Easton observes my face for a moment longer. Then he pulls in a sharp breath. “Okay. Let’s do this, Tiny Tiger.”

He jumps out of the car and opens my door.

His hungry gaze sweeps over me again as I exit the vehicle.

Tongue rolling over his bottom lip, he offers me his arm and I take it.

I ignore my thumping pulse and my already-damp panties, and when it’s safe to cross, I allow him to guide me across the street.

We step inside the busy restaurant and if feels like all eyes shift to us.

The patrons. My coworkers. Even my boss. People are staring and whispering. I feel like I’m coming out of my skin as I try to figure out what they could possibly be thinking .

But Easton doesn’t notice the attention. He just marches confidently toward the hostess stand with my hand tucked in the crook of his elbow.

Jules greets us with a smile so wide it shows off her wisdom teeth. Her palms slap the desktop in front of her. “Hands down the best-looking pair in Fairy Bush tonight,” she declares.

Easton’s attention turns to me, pride and mirth shimmering in his eyes. His large hand slips to the small of my back. “Well, duh! Any man would shine with Alba Anderson by his side.” He winks.

“Oh my god. Perfect answer, Raines! Ten-on-ten!” Jules whimpers, her grin growing even wider as her excited eyes bounce to me.

My knees wobble. I think I’m going to be sick. Practice. Practice. Practice, Alba.

“You think we could get that table at the back?” I croak out to my bestie. Proximity to the bathroom is important right now.

She gives her head a firm shake. “Nuh-uh, babe. A window table for you. Let’s put those tits on display.” She grabs two leather-bound menus and leads the way across the floor.

Easton smiles, dimples flashing as he leans down by my ear and growls. “Wow, lucky me. I get to show you off for the whole town to see.”

I grip his arm tighter for balance.

By the time we’re seated at the small table, there’s a riot going on in my belly and I’m seriously unsure that I’ll make it through this meal.

Especially when I glance around the room and catch Mr. Drummond near the kitchen entrance, glaring at me.

He looks extra pissed to see me enjoying a night out, especially when the restaurant is so busy .

My sleazy boss thinks I’m nothing—not even deserving of respect—but here I am, dining with the hottest man in town, a hometown hero.

I glance over in Jules’s direction. Once we make eye contact, she immediately launches into some type of sign language she’s clearly inventing on the fly. She sticks out her chest, cradles her boobs and gives them a firm shake. Her facial expression instructs me to do the same.

Oh my god—my best friend is a lunatic.

Easton touches my hand to grab my focus. “Hey. Attention over here, Tiny Tiger.” When my eyes meet his, he smiles softly. “There you are.”

“Sorry,” I say quietly. “I thought this was a good idea. But now that I’m sitting here, all dressed up, I can’t help but feel a little self-conscious. I can’t help but feel like I’m being judged.”

He shrugs. “So let them judge. You’re beautiful. And they all wish they were you.” His expression goes soft but serious. “You can’t let other people decide how you feel about yourself, Alba. Only you have the right to make that decision.”

“I know that. I just…” I glance around the room, seeing the whole place from a different vantage point.

After working here for so long, tonight, I feel like I can truly appreciate the beauty of the restaurant.

It’s like sitting in an enchanted forest. The twinkle lights in the willow branches hanging overhead.

Old fashioned lanterns and climbing vines growing along the stone walls.

Sitting here as a patron is weird, to say the least.

Our server swoops over with two glasses of water and the bread basket. She keeps throwing me quizzical glances the whole time. Like, what does that Alba girl have that I don’t? It’s unsettling.

When we’re alone again, Easton reaches across the table, tracing a knuckle along the cheap rhinestone earring that dangles from my ear.

“I know it may feel foreign to you, but you deserve a nice evening out, wearing a sexy dress.” His voice lowers.

“Being treated like a princess by a man who can’t take his eyes off you. That’s why we’re here, remember?”

I shiver when his finger accidentally grazes my cheek. Actually, from the way Easton is looking at me, I’m not so sure the touch was accidental at all.

“Is it that obvious what I’m thinking?” I ask hoarsely, trying to cover up my reaction to his touch.

“Sort of.” His grin curves up at one side.

“Oh boy…” I mutter under my breath.

His head tilts to the side and he chuckles. “I’m not some random dating app dude sitting across from you, Tiny Tiger. This is me and you here. I know how the wheels turn inside that pretty head of yours. And I’m telling you, you have every right to be here tonight.”

When he says that, I feel better. Because it’s Easton, I feel safe.

I smile at him. “Thank you,” I say before lifting my water glass to my lips. “Seriously, thank you for agreeing to help me with this, even though you probably just see me as a charity case.”

“No, Alba,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re most definitely not a charity case.”

“Easton, I’m a twenty-seven year old virgin on a practice date with my high school friend who’s only doing this because he thinks I’m too naive to face the dating world. I’d say that makes me a charity case.”

“Or maybe I’m here because the idea of you on a date with any other man makes my blood boil with jealousy. Did that ever cross your mind?” A slow flush sweeps across his cheeks. “I’m not being charitable, Alba. I’m being possessive as fuck.”

I almost spit out my water. “Possessive? Please.”

Gosh—this dude is such a sweet talker.

Easton’s face goes stern and serious. “Listen to me, woman. You are beautiful. Smart. Funny. And you look hot as fuck in that little red dress. Trust me, every man in this restaurant tonight has been checking you out since the moment we walked through the door.”

I glance around. “Me?”

Yes, people have been staring this way. But I was sure they were all staring at Easton. The man is practically a celebrity, after all.

With a brush of his knuckles along my jaw, he directs my attention back to him. “Yes, you.”

I focus my eyes on his and pull in a breath. “I’m going to let myself believe you,” I say, even though I don’t see all these supposed admirers Easton’s talking about.

Looking satisfied, he grabs a fresh roll then stretches the bread basket across the table to me. “Good. Now, relax and let me enjoy you.”

We order, we eat and we talk. Besides the fact that we’re both dressed up and we’re eating expensive food by candlelight, it doesn’t feel all that different from a normal night hanging out. Easton’s just easy to talk to. Easy to laugh with.

Yet somehow, he’s more… intense tonight. He’s always leaning forward, hanging onto every word I say, staring at me like I’m the most interesting thing in the restaurant.

We get caught up in our own little world, losing track of time. By the time my attention comes back to our surroundings, almost three hours have flown by.

Easton glances over his shoulder once I’ve pushed my half-eaten chocolate mousse cake to the side. “Should we get out of here?”

“Definitely, yes,” I say as Mr. Drummond stomps past our table with a broom and dustpan in hand.

When our server swings by, Easton pays the bill with a generous tip. My coworker looks at me with wide eyes as she hands me a doggy bag containing our leftovers. Legs still wobbling, I stand and Easton drapes his suit jacket over my shoulders, ushering me toward the exit.

My smokin’ hot date nods at my best friend as we pass by the hostess stand. “Good night, Jules.”

She flashes that big grin again. “Enjoy the rest of your night, you two. I should probably say, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do . But I wouldn’t mean it.”

When I wave at her over my shoulder, she tosses me the most over-the-top wink and I giggle. I love Jules so much. She’s the best cheerleader a girl could ask for.

Easton pulls the door open, allowing me to exit first. As we cross the street, his palm slides down the length of my spine and I shiver with delight. His hand on my lower back is quickly becoming one of my favorite things.

“I had a really great time tonight.” I throw him a sidelong glimpse as we walk.

“I did, too,” he says, unable to keep from grinning as he gives me yet another slow once-over, from head to toe.

“Why are you smiling like that?” I ask him as I step onto the curb.

“Because every man in that restaurant wanted to take you home tonight.” He leans close, allowing his nose to graze along the column of my neck before pressing a kiss to my jaw. “But I’m the lucky fucker who actually gets to.”