Then it’s back to business, and by the time the day is winding down, I’m tired and having a hard time staying awake. I text Dean on my way up to my room, needing to get a new dress. My makeup bag is still in Dean’s room, but my curling iron is here.
I get my hair all curled before hearing back from Dean.
Dean: Sorry, I was on the beach and get shitty cell service.
Me: That’s okay. I’m almost ready, but I need to get something I left in your room.
Dean: I’m headed up there now. I need to shower before we go out.
Me: Okay. I’ll head up there now.
Dean: You can stay again if you want.
I bite my lip. I don’t want to say yes, but I don’t want to say no either. I really don’t want to sleep next to a stranger again, though I did spend the day with JoAnn. I don’t think she’s a psycho murderer anymore.
Me: Let’s see how dinner goes.
I send the text before I realize how it sounds. Whatever. I put everything back in my suitcase and debate just taking it up with me. Deciding to leave it, I grab clothes for the morning along with my toiletry bag and go up to the third floor.
Dean answers on the first knock.
“You look beautiful,” he says, eyeing me up and down. My heart flutters. There’s something about being told you look beautiful as opposed to hot or sexy.
“Thank you.” I step in and he shuts the door behind me. I pause, eyes meeting his, and I’m pretty sure the same thoughts are racing through his brain. We could go out to dinner and actually see where this leads.
Or we could rip each other’s clothing off and know we’ll have a good time.
“I still have to shower,” he says apologetically. “I didn’t want to get in and have you come to the door and then me not answer.”
“That’s fine. I’m going to go through your bags and look for incriminating evidence while you’re in the shower. And then I’ll probably sneak in, take some nudes, and blackmail you for a lot of money so I don’t post them on the internet.”
“There are already nudes of me on the internet. For free.”
“Dammit.”
He chuckles and runs his hand through his hair, looking over my body as if I’m already naked. And now I know he’s most certainly thinking about ripping my clothes off. We’re going about this backwards, having started with primal sex and now trying the whole dating thing.
“Go shower,” I say. “I’m hungry.”
“Me too. I made us reservations.”
“Where?”
“It’s a surprise.” He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head as he walks way, fulling knowing what the sight of his half-naked body will do to me.
Wrong felt right the first time around, but the second time…though I’m willing to test that whole two wrongs don’t make a right thing.Chapter 26Rory“This view is amazing,” I say, setting my fork down. Dean and I just finished a shared appetizer. We’re on a rooftop balcony in downtown Miami, and I’m pretty sure I’m never leaving.
“Someone canceled their reservation seconds before I called,” he says. I can feel his eyes on me as I look out at the city, and my heart skips a beat—again. This feels like an epic first date, but then again, so did the first night we spent together.
There’s a good chance Dean is just trying to wine and dine his way into my pants.
“Oh, wow.” I turn back, meeting his gaze. “It’s like fate.”
His lips curve into a smile. “I think so too.”
The table is cleared, our wine is refilled, and we’re told the main course will be out shortly.
“Is that your phone?” Dean asks, eyes going to my purse. “I hear something buzzing.”
“You have good hearing.” I get my purse out. “It’s your sister.”
“What does she want?”
I unlock my phone and show Dean a picture of a litter of kittens. “She thinks I should take one.”
“You’re not a crazy cat lady, are you?”
“I crazy in general and I like all animals. Does that count?”
Dean laughs. “I suppose. Quinn has a million cats.”
“She told me. I just have one. He keeps me company. It can get a little lonely living on my own.”
“Yeah,” he agrees and gets a distant look in his eye that he blinks away in just a few seconds. “I’ve considered getting a cat. I’m not home enough for a dog. I’d feel bad leaving it alone all day.”
“Same here. Either a Golden Retriever or a German Shepherd.”
“Logan, one of my brothers who owns the bar, has a German Shepherd. He’s a nice dog.”
“We always had pets growing up.”
“Us too, and as crazy as Quinn is about cats, our mom is about dogs. She has four right now.”
We talk about our past childhood pets until our food comes, and there isn’t a lull in our conversation until we stop to look over the dessert menu. We decide to split a big piece of chocolate cake.