Imperfectly Delicious (Imperfect Series #6) - Mary Frame Page 0,63

to dress too fancy, but not too slovenly, either. Plus, it’s frigid outside, so after trying on forty-five different outfits, I settled on a nice green sweater—for the holidays—with dark wash jeans and close-toed heels.

Grabbing my hat and scarf on the way out, I lock my door and head down the stairs. Guy wanted to come up, but I didn’t really want him to see my apartment. It’s small and a total mess of dishes and baking supplies. I’ve been trying out new flavors and frostings and I had no time to clean it up.

When I open the front door, he’s there, waiting curbside next to a sleek black town car. He’s wearing dark pants with a blue button-up shirt and leather jacket. It fits him to perfection, hugging his form like it was made for him—and it likely was. I’ve seen him in a tux, in sweat shorts at home, jeans and Henleys, but this…this is different from his day to day hotness. It’s like mega hotness to the nth degree.

He opens the back door and I pause for a quick embrace, leaning into him for a second, breathing in his piney scent before slipping past him into the car.

He slides in after me and tells the driver we’re ready.

“I brought you something.” He reaches down and grabs a small box and hands it to me.

I open it to reveal a chocolate covered cannoli and I gasp in pleasure. “It’s like you can read my mind. I much prefer sweets to something like flowers.”

I hand it back to him. “We might have to save it for after dinner, though. And I’ll only eat it if you’ll share it with me.”

“Nervous?”

“A little.” The lights from outside illuminate his face but the shadows make his eyes unreadable. “Also, I don’t want to snarf food all over myself in front of you. I get crazy around desserts.”

“I’ve noticed. I had eggs spread on my face once.”

I laugh and smack him lightly on the shoulder. “Hey, it wasn’t my fault. You instigated that one.”

The curve of his cheek is like a reward. “I may have.”

I glance out the window. “Where are we going?”

He hesitates. “It’s a surprise.”

“Can I guess?”

“If you must.”

I bounce in my seat with excitement. “You’re taking me to the top of the Empire State Building.”

“Like in that movie? You think that’s romantic? It’s freezing up there right now.”

I laugh. “Brent took Bethany there on their first date. Not to the normal observatory, but to the 102nd floor, before they even opened it to the public.”

“That’s a pretty good date idea. But it’s not where I’m taking you.”

I tap my lip. “Are you taking me to…a dumpster in Queens where Joe the hobo lives and serves fried rats with a side of wet garbage?”

He lifts both hands. “You caught me.”

“I knew it!”

He laughs. “Your two guesses are the Empire State Building and a dumpster. Don’t you think there might be something in between?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Those guesses aren’t as fun.”

He grimaces. “That’s not boding well for me.”

I lean closer, his heat a comforting pressure along my side. “I wouldn’t care if you were taking me to a dumpster. I’m just happy to be here. With you.”

He stares down at me. His mouth moves but nothing emerges.

And then the car pulls to a stop. He slides out turning to hold a hand out for me.

I slide out behind him, hoping I didn’t ruin everything by being too honest. It’s probably so obvious I haven’t dated in forever.

“Oh.” I laugh and clap my hands over my mouth. “Did you seriously bring me to eat at a food truck?”

We’re outside the entrance to LuminoCity—a theme park full of colorful Christmas inflatables and lights. Parked to the side are a row of food trucks.

He shoves his hands in his pockets and his smile is small and sheepish, but it’s there. “They have excellent food. Come on. We can see the lights afterward. I brought the girls here last week and they loved it.”

I shake my head but follow him over to a Salvadoran truck. We get in line behind a family of four; a little girl in pigtails yanks on her dad’s hand and loudly asks for donuts.

“How was Ava’s concert last night?” I ask him.

“It was good. An hour of middle schoolers playing Hot Cross Buns, the Appalachian Hymn, and Home on the Range.”

“Exciting.”

He shrugs. “It wasn’t bad. Emma enjoyed it. And I’m happy I can attend their events. I missed a lot