Hayden (A Next Generation Carter Brother #4) - Lisa Helen Gray Page 0,36
other by having pictures of landscapes or old-fashioned ornaments decorating the place.
“Welcome to Rivers, Mr Cross. Tonight, you are in the Dove suite. If you’d like to follow me, I’ll get you seated,” the waitress explains, her perky ponytail swishing side to side with her energetic movements.
We follow her into the main room, just off the entrance. The main dining room is modern and inviting. Candlelight flickers from the tables, which are decorated with beautiful candle holders, gold swirls flickering in all directions.
When we step into the next room, I can’t help the small shot of anxiety that tries but fails to creep up my spine. It’s there, lingering on the surface, for reasons unknown. I’m a confident person in all aspects of my life, but this feeling is foreign. It’s as if the room is screaming at me to get out, that I don’t belong. And I don’t. I have a foul mouth, don’t care who I smart off to, and love hamburgers for dinner.
Once the thought enters my mind, I snort to myself. I’m Hayden Carter: I belong where I want to belong, other people be damned. And who cares if I stand out against other diners who are thick with jewels and sparkly dresses or expensive suits.
We head towards the back of the room, where four extremely large bay windows are, giving us the beautiful view of the lake. They’ve decorated the trees with fairy lights, and the reflection bouncing off the still water is mesmerizing.
But what takes my breath away is the ivy running up the walls and along the ceiling, white flowers blossoming out of the green.
Someone took great lengths to give this place character and charm, and they succeeded. It’s bewitching.
With the twinkle lights weaving in and out of the ivy, it gives the room an intimate charge. It isn’t just sexual, it’s something else; something I can’t quite grasp the understanding of.
“Are you coming?” Clayton asks, before having to clear his throat.
I pull my gaze away from the ceiling to find his heated gaze on mine. I get lost in his eyes, and for a minute, I forget we aren’t here together on a date. For one split second, I forget he’s my boss and take a step forward, wanting to pull him towards me and wrap my arms around his neck.
The realisation hits me and I pause, rubbing my chest, drawing his attention to my tits. My heart is racing, and although the crazy part of my brain wants to launch myself at him and make him forget his name, the other part, the part I inherited from my mum, has my feet firmly glued to the floor.
“Mr Cross, your table,” the young woman announces, her tone showcasing how uncomfortable our stare off is.
“Yes, um, sorry,” he replies, walking over and pulling the chair out for me. It’s right by the window, giving me a beautiful view of the lake. I arch my eyebrow at his kind gesture. “I can be a gentleman, Hayden.”
“I didn’t say anything,” I muse, finding it hard to cool my libido.
“Let me take your coat,” he offers, stepping up behind me.
Well, isn’t he full of surprises.
His fingertips brush the collar of my coat. He’s not even that close, but I swear I can feel his body heat. All I want to do is step back and lean into his embrace.
Somehow, the small gesture feels sexual, like a game of foreplay. The light brush of his fingertips run along my neck, causing a fire to burn in my veins.
The back of my dress is quite low. It was the one thing he didn’t get a glimpse of when we went shopping. I love it. It gives it personality and makes me feel more like me, rather than some fake Barbie playing dress up. That and I knew it would drive him crazy.
The second the toned skin on my back is revealed, there’s a change in the room. He pauses his slow, torturous movements, leaving the coat down by my elbows, and takes a sharp intake of breath. The sound has my pulse spiking.
“My coat,” I remind him, my voice low and breathless as I glance over my shoulder.
Desire oozes from him as he snaps out of it. “Um, yes.” He reaches back for the coat, gently sliding it the rest of the way before handing it to the waitress. I take my seat, smiling when he pushes my chair in.