him either. "What does money have to do with anything?"
"I live in a two-bedroom apartment. You…" Her face twisted as she blushed. "I made Friday night dinners when you should've been at five-star restaurants." She glanced around the room as if just seeing it for the first time. "We're eating in Salvatore's."
"I like this place and your cooking. What's the problem?" It's not as if Salvatore's was a slum. Didn't she know him well enough by now to know he preferred fish fry to caviar?
"This is so humiliating." She rose and pushed away from the table.
He caught her hand before she could retreat, panic making him tighten his fingers. "Don't go. We're…not done." They hadn't even broached why he really brought her here.
She stopped and swallowed hard, gaze directed at the floor. This wasn't her. Raven looked shit in the eye and always came out on top. Pushed through problems like she fought her depression because she was the furthest thing from weak.
He ducked his head to look in her eyes. "I'm still the same guy." This was the third time he'd said that, but it wasn't sinking in. "Please sit back down."
After what must've been a severe internal battle, she finally nodded and reclaimed her seat. He drew air into his lungs, unaware he'd been holding his breath. Except now he had no idea how to touch upon the topic of…them. He'd had ten years to dredge up a trillion variations of this conversation, but none seemed right when faced with the moment.
Gino came out of the kitchen, wiping his pudgy hands on an apron wrapped around his girth. A wide smile split his ruddy face as he patted both their shoulders. "How are we doing, folks? Ready for my famous chicken cacciatore?"
Noah glanced at Raven for an answer, but she was frozen in her seat. He looked at Gino. "You bet. Bring it out."
Raven pinched her forehead. Noah didn't have time to say more because Gino returned and two steaming plates of food had been set down in front of them.
"You two lovebirds enjoy."
She flinched--actually flinched--and swiftly grabbed her fork as if to cover the move.
Alone again, he pushed the chicken around his plate and gave up. His stomach couldn't handle food, not with her sitting there as if he'd slapped her. He withdrew an envelope from his breast pocket and slid it across the table.
She eyed the familiar stationery. Her lips gaped open, as did her eyes.
He'd been on a shoot in Paris when he'd seen the design. Feminine, durable and unique, it reminded him of her. So he'd bought two boxes and became her secret admirer. At the time, it was the only way he could have her. He wrote about the things he wanted to do, how he ached to touch, and left it at sending one every year for her birthday.
"Open it," he said.
She hesitated, but eventually picked up the envelope. Her gaze scanned the paper. Confusion marred her forehead. "It's blank."
Was that disappointment in her tone? He'd wondered how the letters had affected her. She'd, of course, told him about them as they came, but she'd never given any indication to how they made her feel. Did they turn her on, make her want to touch herself? Did she blush when reading his words and desires?
He leaned forward. "You know everything now. What I want, what I've always wanted, and who I am. Anything else I wish to relay--or do--will be directly to you. No more cards."
Finally, her gaze whipped to his and held. Something intense and altering shifted between them. The charge hit his midsection and ramped his pulse.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth and back up. She was thinking about it. "You've never…" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "We're friends. We've never crossed that line. You never gave me any indication you wanted more."
But he did. Oh, he wanted so much more. What started out as respecting her as a friend grew to admiring her as a woman, then downshifted into the fiercest need to have her. "Have you ever thought about it? You and me. More."
"No," she said quickly. Too quickly to be believed. "Well, maybe when we first met, there was attraction. But the buddy thing…" She shook her head. "I guess I just put it out of my mind. I didn't think you saw me like that."
"I want you." As if she hadn't figured that out by now, he decided to ram it home.