Raid - By Kristen Ashley Page 0,19

weird way to put it.

I shook that off and pressed on, “Well, this is a, um, date, and if this goes, uh… well, then…”

“This goes further, I will not hang with them,” he declared firmly, and I stared.

“You don’t like people that much who smoke pot?” I asked.

“Not that. Got friends who smoke. Don’t give a shit. Don’t like it, but it doesn’t say anything about them except they’re into something I’m not into. Just don’t got a good feeling about those two.”

“They’re kind and funny.”

He leaned toward me. “They give me a bad feeling, Hanna. They don’t give you that same feeling, cool. But this date goes well, we go further, I will not hang with them. Straight up. No bullshit. You’re into me, I’m into you, but that does not mean I gotta be into all your friends and the same goes for you.”

I had to admit, that was fair.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“And I’m not sayin’ that shit knowin’ how into me you are, layin’ down the law. I mean it. You connect with my people, you aren’t into them, same goes for you.”

That was nice.

“Okay,” I stated more resolutely, then asked (yes, stupidly), “How into you do you think I am?”

“Honey, you crawled around on all fours in a pet store, totally unable to cope with bein’ in my space. You’re seriously into me.”

This was true and this should have mortified me.

It didn’t.

For some reason, it annoyed me.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “It’s kind of annoying you figured that out, and more annoying you keep bringing it up.”

To this he threw his handsome head back, burst out laughing and held my hand tight for a second.

Then his hold loosened and he lifted our hands so our elbows were on the table, our hands up between us, but he again leaned into me.

This time super-close.

Which meant he was pressing my hand into his hard chest.

I held my breath.

“Open book,” he said quietly. “Like I said, it’s cute. It’s also refreshing, baby.”

“I’m glad you think so,” I whispered, no longer annoyed. With him that close and my hand pressed to his chest I was back to nervous.

“I do,” he confirmed.

Okay then, he thought it was cute and refreshing, so I felt it safe to give him more.

Therefore I did.

“Just so you know, I find you extremely attractive and I’d really like this date to go well because I’d like another one, and not as an excuse to buy another dress and killer pair of shoes.”

I did it, but felt no relief when something weird and a little alarming flashed in his eyes. His fingers squeezed mine before he hid that look, let my hand go and sat back.

“For a guy, that question is answered at the end of the date.”

Fabulous.

Something to be more nervous about.

He grinned at me.

I licked my lips.

His grin faded and his eyes dropped to my mouth.

I stopped breathing.

The waiter showed with our appetizers.

Thank God.

* * * * *

“Be back, yeah?” Raiden asked as the waiter swept away our dessert plates.

I nodded to him while he stood

When he was up, he reached out a hand and tucked my hair behind my ear. My scalp tingled, the tingle shooting straight down my spine, and I wished I could touch his hair or that he’d do that again (and again) while he walked away.

I watched him go while internally shivering through the remnants of the hair tuck maneuver.

Once he was out of sight, my mind turned to the date.

I wasn’t certain how it started, but once we were over the Bodhi and Heather thing and the how into him I was thing, Raiden steered conversation to safer subjects. People in town we both knew. How great Rachelle’s café was doing. Grams. How I did up my house.

I thought, in the end, it was going well.

Conversation was easy. It flowed. There were smiles, some laughs for him and for me, the food was delicious and I’d loosened up because of my company, not to mention three glasses of wine.

The one thing that was weird was that Raiden shared zilch about himself, outside talking a bit about his Mom and more about his sister, both of whom, when he spoke of them, it was clear he cared a lot about.

But he didn’t tell me about his house when I was talking about mine. He didn’t share about what he did for work. He didn’t talk about the time he was away. In fact, it was him that led the conversation