Chance paid for their purchases and, carrying three huge bags of toys, they headed for the door.
“You know when they get older you won’t be able to only buy them toys, right?”
Booting open the door with a nudge from his foot, he grunted. “I guess.”
“You’re going to spoil them hopelessly.”
“Hey, give me another year or two and I’m sure I’ll be more than happy to discipline them.” He paused, tweaked her nose. “For now, I have you.”
Happiness spiraled through her. The intimacy between them shimmered with promise, but though it couldn’t be fulfilled, they seemed to have it under control. Now that they’d spent over an hour together, just having fun, her heart didn’t stutter every time he looked at her. He never said anything or did anything that went too far. He only made her feel needed—liked.
Was it so wrong to want to feel needed? To feel liked?
They loaded the gifts into his SUV and as he started the engine, he said, “So where should we get dinner?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t care really. I’m starving.”
“I am too.” He glanced down at the dashboard clock. “And we’ve only been gone about an hour and a half.” He peeked over at her. “What do you say we just find a place and eat there?”
Her heart took a bit of a tumble, but her tummy growled. She reminded herself that they seemed to be handling this. In fact, spending private time together was going a long way to help her see “them” more normally. Just a boss and a nanny becoming friends. “I am starving.”
“And we haven’t given Cook very long with the kids.”
She nodded and he turned the SUV away from the mall. He passed all the perfectly good chain restaurants and headed down a two-lane road that was all but deserted.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
In another minute, they crested a small hill and there on the left was a brown wood-frame restaurant with a crowded parking lot. Adorned with bright Christmas lights and tinsel that sparkled in the glow of the parking lot lamps, it looked old-world, homey and charming.
He opened his door. “You’re going to love this food.”
She opened her door. “Right now, I’d love any food.”
He waited as she rounded the hood. When she caught up with him, the desire to slide her arm beneath his, to twine them together and walk along the crunching snow filled her. So she shoved her hands in her pockets and headed for the entry. He scrambled after her, beat her to the door and opened it for her.
The warm feeling invaded her heart again. She and Jason had been kids when they were dating. He didn’t open doors. He didn’t wait for her. But Chance was an adult. A man who was protective and respectful.
As a friend. Or maybe as a guy who owed her for helping him shop.
Nothing more.
A hostess in black pants and a white shirt ushered them to a booth in the back. The lights were dim and when they sat, it was almost dark in their little area. The hostess lit the round candle on the table and left them with menus and the promise that a waitress would be right over.
With only the light of one candle, the booth suddenly felt small, intimate.
Ignoring that, and the jump of her stomach, she opened her menu. She noticed all the usual fare but a sweet spicy scent lured her. When the waitress came over, she asked what it was.
“Three-cheese ravioli with marinara and sausage. It’s today’s special.”
She handed her menu to the waitress. “I’ll have that.”
Chance handed his menu to the waitress too. “Same here.” As the waitress walked away, he smiled at Tory. “So, thanks for shopping with me.”
She shrugged, grateful for the chance to take the conversation and the mood in the direction it needed to go. “It was my pleasure. Really. The only people I have to shop for are my parents. And they’re…well…kinda boring.”
“Count your lucky stars. My parents were anything but boring and they made us nuts trying to choose gifts for them.”
“Really? I can’t see Gwen making anybody nuts.”
“When we were younger she was a perfectionist. I told you we’d walk out one door and a cleaning team would walk in another.”
She laughed. “What about your dad?”
He winced. “You really don’t want to know.”
“Sure I do.” Anything to get the conversation off the intimacy surrounding them. Soft mandolin music. Candles. The privacy of a booth with tall-backed bench seats and very little light.