the restaurant.
We hadn’t discussed what would happen after dinner tonight, but Noah had suggested that I stay over at his house after dinner. The next day was Saturday, and Deacon was covering rounds in the morning, since it was his turn. I’d packed a small overnight bag that was even now in the trunk of my car.
I had no idea why I was so jittery about the idea of us finally having actual sex. I was pretty annoyed with myself over the whole thing, and I’d given myself a stern lecture all the way over here. After all, we’d already seen each other naked. We’d made each other come with our mouths. We’d slept together. It was really just this one little thing, and I didn’t need to make it such a monumental deal. Neither of us were virgins. Having penetrative intercourse was just one small element of the overall sexual experience.
Making it sound clinical didn’t help, in case anyone wondered.
“Hey.” Noah reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “There are no expectations tonight. We’re not rushing into anything. If all we do tonight is watch a movie and cuddle, or sit out on the deck and count the stars, I’ll be happy. I only want to be with you, Emma. That’s it.” He smiled. “Of course, if you want to get naked and ride me like a cowgirl, I’m okay with that, too.”
I laughed. “Good to know.”
He picked up my hand, and holding it to his lips, he turned it over and pressed a kiss into the center of my palm. “We have the rest of our lives, baby. We don’t have any need to rush.” A shadow flickered across his face, and I wondered if he was remembering saying something like that to Angela. Their time had been finite, and there was a lesson that nothing was promised us. Not next month, next week, not even tomorrow.
I was about to ask him if he was okay when he coughed and changed the subject. “I think we should start with the bruschetta and some garlic knots. What do you think?”
“That sounds fine, as long as they don’t use real butter on the knots. And no mozzarella on the bruschetta, either.”
“Oh, shit. I forgot the whole vegan deal.” He sighed. “Well, let’s skip the garlic knots. The bruschetta doesn’t have cheese or anything. It should be fine.”
“Okay.” I checked the entrees, making mental notes of the restrictions I’d need to give the waiter. I was about to ask Noah what he was going to order when a movement and a glint of light behind him caught my attention.
It was the couple three tables away from us. The woman was trying to be coy about it, but I could clearly see that she was holding her cell phone. Even as I watched, she held it up, aiming it toward Noah and me. Her date twisted in his seat, turning around to stare at us, not reacting at all even when he boldly met my eye.
“Noah,” I hissed. “Those people behind you are taking pictures. Of us, I mean. She’s got a cell, and the guy is staring.”
“Ah, shit.” He rolled his eyes, but he didn’t look over his shoulder or get up to stop them. “I was hoping no one would recognize me here. I’m sorry, babe. But if we ignore them, they’ll get bored pretty soon.”
“Can’t you ask them not to do it? It’s rude.” I glared at the couple. “And it’s an invasion of privacy. Why can’t they just mind their own damn business?”
“Emma, baby, don’t make a scene, okay? It’s all right. I know it’s a pain in the ass, but it’s just part of the job. Like I said, if we’re not doing anything outrageous, no one’s going to care about their stupid pictures. The only time the press gets really interested is when football players are doing dumb shit.” He reached across the table to run a finger along my jaw. “So as long as you refrain from throwing me down on the table to have your way with me, we’re golden.”
I was glad Noah could joke about this, but I didn’t like it at all. It was unnerving to know that people were talking about us, that those nosy folks were going to post the photos they were taking on social media and speculate about who I was, what Noah and I were doing together . . . it made me angry.
The waiter returned