Redesigning Fate (Revive #1) - A. M. Wilson Page 0,18

my mouth into his where he swallows the sound.

His hand ventures further south to rest on my waist, fingers brushing the skin where my blouse pulled out from my skirt. His skin on mine has me squirming in my seat, pressing my thighs together to stem the warm ache blossoming there. He slows the kiss, one last swipe of his tongue on mine, pulls away, and brushes back in for one, two more presses of his lips against mine.

I sigh, eyes still closed, savoring the sensation and the taste of him on my tongue. I’d forgotten how much I loved kissing.

He presses his forehead against mine. “We should head inside.” The want in his voice is clear and slices through my strength like a machete. He’s struggling with his control as much as I am.

“Lead the way,” I say, breathless.

Elias climbs out, his long, hard body unfolding gracefully from the truck. As he rounds the hood, I can’t stop myself from admiring the lean lines of his torso, the incredible way his pants hug his backside. What am I getting myself into?

He opens the passenger door for me, and I hop out into the chilly evening air.

All the while my mind races a million miles a minute. Compare and contrast. Elias to Travis. Devise escape plans. Try not to pass out and make an ass of myself. Get him to kiss me again!

Gah!

The casualness which he holds himself is the complete opposite to my inner turmoil. He turns to walk towards the restaurant, but not before engulfing my small hand with his large one. The warmth of his fingers curled around mine bring the rampaging thoughts to a halt.

The restaurant is a small stucco covered building in a light cream color. It has a red roof and awning leading up to a pair of black double doors. When we enter, a podium is situated center to the doors. A pretty, red head hostess waits, smiling brightly at, well, Elias. I’m pretty much invisible to her.

Still, he holds onto my hand tightly, gesturing me ahead of him while she motions for us to follow.

It’s hard not to miss the deliberately excessive shaking of her ass as she walks in front of us while we are brought to a small two person booth in the back corner of the restaurant. Chandeliers are spaced throughout the ceiling, providing a dimly lit romantic ambiance. It’s been years since I’ve been out to eat at a place like this. I’m excited and nervous, but beneath all the turmoil, I feel special. As if I deserve this or something.

We take our seats opposite one another in the comfortable booth and stay quiet as the hostess sashays away. I swallow down the urge to chuck my rolled silverware at the back of her head.

“How old are you?” The question takes me by surprise, seemingly from left field. But then I remember we know next to nothing about one another, and I smile. He’s trying to get to know me.

Still, I have to give him a bit of grief. “It’s rude to ask a woman her age,” I respond with a slight tilt to my lips.

He smirks. “My birthday is April 27th. Does that make you feel better?” He reaches out his hand, palm up on the table, silently asking to hold mine. The gesture is sweet and makes me smile as I stretch my hand out, placing it tenderly in his. His fingers curl around my palm, rubbing, stroking my soft skin with his calloused ones.

“That doesn’t tell me how old you are.”

“It’s my Golden birthday.” Mmm. An older man. Travis was my age, so the concept is foreign to me. Elias’s cool confidence makes me believe the age gap is a good thing. He probably has his shit figured out.

“Well now, that’s better.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’ll be twenty two on June 3rd.”

“You’re just a baby,” he replies in a soft voice that raises the color of my cheeks. Is it a turn off to be so young? Maybe he was hoping I’d be closer to his age.

At that unfortunate moment, our waitress interrupts us. Like the hostess, she glues her eyes to Elias, leaving me forgotten.

“Hi, my name’s Jenny. What can I get you to drink?” she asks seductively, batting her eyelashes clumped with mascara.

“We’d like a bottle of Pinot Grigio,” Elias requests, his eyes never leaving mine. “If that’s all right with you, Marlee?”

Marlee? My stomach erupts in butterflies. Where did that come from?