back and I’m tired and losing perspective. But then I get a break and the love for the job comes back in full force. It’s impossible to love what you do a hundred percent of the time.”
“True.”
“I have an important question for you, Peter.”
“Shoot.”
She stirred her drink up. “How long are you staying for?”
“It depends.”
“On what?” she asked.
I smiled. “How things go.”
Chapter 10
Katie
The night went by far too quickly.
One minute, Peter was wiping cold water from my bare legs, and the next, we were bickering over the bill like an old married couple. Despite our arrangement that I would buy drinks and he would buy the food, I ended up caving and let him leave his credit card on the little black tray beside the two breath mints.
We both took a mint.
The restaurant was empty except for three occupied tables when we made our way out. It was half past ten and The Wreck closed at eleven on weeknights. On the weekends, there would be a live band and a dance floor, and it wasn’t hard for me to picture coming back here with Peter to dance, have a drink or four, and let the music take the lead.
He put his hand on the small of my back and opened the door for me. We stepped outside and I wondered what it might feel like to be pressed up against his chest on the dance floor. Based on our track record, there was a high chance he would drop me right on my ass. Or my face.
But that was a chance I was willing to take with him.
“Can I drive you back to the hotel?” Peter nodded at his little blue truck parked on the far side of the lot.
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
He was a perfect gentleman. He opened the passenger door for me and held it open until I was inside. He closed the door softly and I watched him walk around the truck.
He has no idea how handsome he is, I thought to myself as he raked his fingers through his hair. No idea at all.
How was that possible? How did a thirty-something-year-old man with a body and a face like that have a complete lack of self-awareness when it came to his looks? Didn’t he own a mirror? Didn’t he find himself being ogled by women everywhere he went?
I’d noticed several women at The Wreck checking him out and I couldn’t blame them. I’d had a hard time sitting across from him and keeping my thoughts on the conversation at hand. It had been hard not to inspect every exposed body part.
Like his hands.
My stomach did a little roll of nervous excitement when he got in the truck and gripped the steering wheel. I indulged my inner girlie-girl and stared unabashedly at his knuckles and the tendons in the back of his hands as they flexed.
What sort of damage could he do with those?
He put his seatbelt on, turned the ignition, and reversed out of the parking spot with an arm resting on the back of the seat.
Part of me wanted to slide into the middle seat so I could sit closer to him, but I suddenly felt like a teenage girl now that we were alone again.
So I stayed where I was, blushing for no reason, and gazed out the window as we pulled out onto the main road and made for the El Cartana.
“I had a nice time tonight,” Peter said after a couple of minutes of comfortable silence. “Thank you for agreeing to come with me after I knocked you on your ass at the market.”
“You keep me on my toes, Peter. I like it. And for the record, I had a nice time too. A very nice time.”
“Even though I spilled water on you?”
I giggled. “Especially because you spilled water on me.”
He gave me a puzzled look. He really had no idea how charming he was. “Maybe next time, I’ll stiff arm you,” he teased. “Or trip you. The possibilities are endless really.”
“Next time?”
He nodded earnestly. “I’d like there to be a next time.”
“Me too.”
We pulled through the hotel gates and came to a slow stop in the roundabout outside the lobby. He put the truck in park. His arm was still draped over the back of the seat when I took off my seatbelt.
His fingers grazed my shoulder. “So when can I see you again?”
“Give me your phone.”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to me.