door and walked around the front of the truck. Her scent had already filled the cab when I opened the door. Her pulse skipped as I got in. She was sweetly nervous.
I reached over and brushed back a strand of her hair. She gave me a slight smile and folded her hands primly in her lap. Taking her cue, I focused on backing up the truck and pulling out of the driveway.
My mind kept circling back to the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra as I struggled to think of what topics were safe first date topics.
“You’ve never mentioned any family other than your mom and Richard.”
“No family as far as I know on either side. It’s just us, now.”
Wrong topic.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long to get to the restaurant. She smiled at the sight of the white Christmas lights wound along the fence that surrounded the rustic building. In the dusk, the light bulbs cast a soft glow over the parking lot.
While she was distracted, I got out and opened her door. She leaned forward to gauge the distance to the ground. The move gave me an irresistible view of her neckline. She caught the direction of my gaze and blushed. There was no censure in her scent, though.
I held the door for her as we entered and gave our name to the man standing at the podium just inside.
“Your table will be ready in just a few moments. Please make yourself comfortable in our lounge.”
Why did fancy restaurants try to use another name for bar?
I ordered us both a glass of wine and held out a heavily padded stool for her. It was nice that it had a low backrest. It didn’t block the view of her back. My fingers drifted along her exposed skin, and she shivered.
The bartender noticed her dress too, though, as he set our drinks before us. I scowled at the man, and he quickly left. Michelle took a sip of her wine and glanced around the room. I honestly couldn’t think of anything to say. My head was racing ahead to the end of the night. What would Michelle expect? What would she accept? I absently rubbed at the tightness growing in my chest.
By the time the maître d' came to seat us at our table, I was ready to forget the meal and just take her to the beach and see what a night under the moonlight would bring.
Michelle followed the man, and I followed her. This time, he helped her with her chair. I sat across from her and debated asking her if she’d rather leave. When she caught me watching her instead of looking at the menu, she picked up my menu and handed it to me.
Okay. That answered my question. A moonlit night on the beach was out.
After ordering, I started telling her about my time in the military. Human rules said that you should let your date talk, but I knew Michelle well enough by now that she’d rather not talk about herself. I kept my stories light and entertaining until the food arrived.
By the time we finished eating and left the restaurant, my hands were itching with the need to touch Michelle again. Her relaxed, content scent called to me. But each time I glanced at her on the drive home, she was looking out the window.
I wanted to know what she was thinking. Had it been a successful first date? Would she consider going out with me again? Was she burning with the need to touch me, like I was for her?
The light of the house at the end of the driveway was a beacon. As soon as I parked I got out, opened her door for her, and offered my hand. Her fingers were warm within my grasp, but quickly withdrawn when she was safely on the ground.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” I asked, closing the door.
She considered me a moment.
“I think it will take a while before I’m comfortable leaving my brothers.”
So she hadn’t enjoyed herself. My hope and anticipation for more of her time yet tonight evaporated.
She remained quiet as we walked inside and up the stairs. When I opened the door for her, anxiety flavored her scent. Not wanting her to worry that I’d push for more than she was ready to give, I stayed in the hall as she stepped inside.
She turned back to look at me.
“Thank you for tonight. Let me know if you want to go shopping with Nana again.