Page 86 of The Write Track
“They’re going to be more expensive.”
It was a perfectly reasonable thing to say, yet it struck me as funny. “Bree says you guys all had to pay thirty grand to be able to use all the facilities in this place.”
“Well, that’s true.” He rubbed his cheek. “I just paid that thirty grand. I don’t want to throw it out the window before I get to enjoy it.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re not moving in together today. We have to be responsible adults.”
His smirk was made of sin. “We’re playing hooky from our friends because we don’t want to be responsible adults.”
“That’s fair.” I pointed at the menu. “Before your one-track mind goes off that single track, I need food.”
He followed my finger. “What looks good to you?”
“I want those Lobster Rangoon Spring Rolls, the grilled shrimp with spinach and whipped potatoes, and whatever sort of dessert this fancy-ass place can rustle up.”
“I like that you have your order ready.”
“Um… that’s just smart. We won’t be dilly-dallying. Food, then right back here to watch a horror movie and play a little game of our own.”
“I love the way your mind works.” He gave me a hard, fast kiss. “I’m getting the filet mignon, wild mushrooms, and whipped potatoes. Their she-crab soup is to die for too.”
“See.” I bobbed my head. “Now you’re thinking.”
He looked at me with such wonder that I decided skipping dinner might be okay. Then again, his smile told otherwise. I would need sustenance. He clearly had plans for me that would stretch far into the night.
“We’ll be smart about the whole thing,” he said. “I have stuff for cocktails here. I plan to speed like a crazy man in the golf cart to and from there, so no cocktails at the restaurant.”
That didn’t bother me. “That sounds good. I get to pick the movie we watch, though.”
He fell silent for a beat. “What were you thinking?” he asked finally.
“Abigail.”
He broke into a wide grin.
“I like to play with my food,” we said at the same time, repeating a great line from the movie.
On impulse, I threw my arms around his neck. Things felt so right with him. I was still afraid they would fall apart, but Itrusted him with my whole heart. For the first time in a long time, I had genuine hope for my future.
He rested his cheek against the side of my head. “This sounds like it could be the best night of my life.”
His words touched me. “It’s going to be great.”
“Then let’s get dressed.” He gave my bottom a friendly swat. “I’m starving and I need to carb load. I have very specific plans for you.”
A shiver of anticipation ran through me. “You read my mind.”
“Funny how that works.”
“It really is.”
23
TWENTY-THREE
For a guy who was convinced that a relationship meant the death of fun, living with Bella had been a surprise. Sure, we weren’t technically living together, but in a way, we were. The small cabin had become home and even having her in my space at my house felt just right. We hadn’t spent any time in her rental, but I knew that would come. I needed to see her downtown, to understand what she liked so much about being close to the city, before I could make decisions about our future.
And yes, I was being impulsive. I found myself thinking about what was to come way more often than was prudent. In a short amount of time—we’d only known each other for six weeks now—she’d become the most important thing in my life.
