Page 66 of Rags's Awakening
“Just give it a try, okay? Give me a call tomorrow and let me know how it went. If it’s a total disaster, call me tonight,” Zoe said.
“Are you going out with Ryan tonight?”
Zoe sighed. “He’s taking me to Greystone’s for dinner.”
“That’s fancy. I hear it’s one of the best steakhouses in town.”
“In the county. I’ve been dying to go there, but, well… I guess you can’t have everything in a relationship.”
“You should at least be happy to be in a relationship with the guy.”
“I am, it’s just that it’s starting to show that we don’t have a lot in common. I’ll see this through Christmas, then my New Year’s resolution will be to move on.”
“It sounds like a good plan. Try and have a good time tonight,” Casey said.
“Same with you. We’ll share details tomorrow. Have fun and relax.”
Casey slipped her phone into her purse and tried to busy herself, anything to calm the somersaults in her stomach every time she thought about the date. She glanced at the clock: fivehours until he picked her up.Why did I agree to this?Because she wanted to. Because she wanted him.
With a sigh, she straightened her shoulders and waved the next customer forward.
Chapter Fourteen
Casey glanced ather phone and swore under her breath. Rags would be here in forty minutes.
“This is fucking crazy,” she muttered, tossing another top onto the bed to join the growing heap. “What the hell is wrong with me? We’re just going out to dinner. No big deal.” She plopped down at the edge of the mattress and focused on slow, steady breaths.
Why were her nerves twisted in knots? It wasn’t like she’d never gone out on a date before. It was just dinner with Rags. So what?
She massaged her temples and closed her eyes, only to have her thoughts ambushed by the memory of his hands on her, the way he held her, touched her, kissed her. Her eyes snapped open.Get a hold of yourself.Who cares if he was a good, no, great… no, unbelievably good kisser? She brushed her fingertips across her lips as a wave of desire rushed through her.
“Get a fucking grip!” she grumbled, digging her nails into the palms of her hands. “It’s only dinner. No biggie. I know exactly how outlaw bikers are.” She pushed herself off the bed. “Anyway, I have to eat dinner. It’s better than staring into the fridge wondering what to cook.”
She walked to the full-length mirror in the corner and inspected her reflection. “Too much highlighter,” she murmured, blotting under her brows with a tissue. Satisfied, she went back to the walk-in closet,again, and slid the hangersalong the bar in a frantic search for the right top to go with her short leather skirt.
Finally, she settled on a light burgundy thermal lace crop top with long sleeves. She grabbed her favorite black leather ankle boots and hurriedly pulled her outfit together.
“Not bad,” she said, turning in front of the arched mirror, checking to make sure her skirt didn’t reveal too much upper thigh. The top showed just a hint of skin and emphasized her small waist, complementing her light olive complexion. She picked up her purple hair pick, fluffed the soft beach waves she’d curled, spritzed some low-hold hair spray, swiped clear gloss over her dusty-rose lips, and grabbed her black bomber leather jacket. She tucked a mini perfume bottle into her purse and headed out of the bedroom.
Before she had time to question, for the umpteenth time, why she’d agreed to dinner with him, the doorbell rang.
“Okay, let’s do this,” she sighed, walking toward the door.
She checked the peephole, saw Rags, and opened the door.
“Hey,” she said, her eyes sweeping over him. A small smile tugged at her lips. His dark charcoal pants fit him perfectly, his black button-down shirt hugged his chest, and polished black boots glinted under the porch light. A silver hoop earring flashed along with the buckles on his leather jacket. His hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and he smelled like fall’s dried leaves mixed with musk and leather—everything she associated with wild, reckless men. Something inside her stilled… then simmered.Damn he’s hot.
“Hey,” he said, rocking back on his heels. His gaze locked on her face, then slid slowly down her body.
Heat pooled in her stomach under the weight of his stare.
“Fuck, woman,” he murmured, meeting her eyes again. “You’re beautiful.”
“Thanks,” she said, unable to stop her smile. “You look pretty good, yourself.”
His looked her over once more, slower this time. “You ready to go?”
She nodded, slipped into her jacket, locked the door, and followed him down the porch steps. As they walked toward the SUV parked on the street, Rags caught her hand, and a shiver raced across her skin.
