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“According to him, he still can’t,” Dean teased, loving this easy back-and-forth. Neither of them spoke for several moments, though they were both smiling.

He was happy.

That realization hit him from out of the blue.

Not that Dean considered himself an unhappy person. He wasn’t one of those miserable Eeyore types, but there was definitely some space between happy and unhappy. And apparently, that was where he resided most of the time.

But not with Viv. With her, he laughed and smiled and felt…yeah…happy. He’d always thought relationships were hard work, something that required compromise and obligation, responsibilities he didn’t want.

Being with Vivian didn’t feel like work. Instead, it felt as easy as breathing.

Dean pulled into a small parking lot overlooking Baltimore’s Inner Harbor. He’d invited her to lunch knowing it would be easier for them to go on a date that didn’t require her asking Victor and Belle to babysit. So, he’d chosen a time when Pip was at school…and no one would be the wiser about the fact they were together.

Vivian looked out the windshield toward the little seafood café tucked between an independent bookstore and an ice cream shop.

“I’ve driven past this place a hundred times, but I’ve never stopped,” she admitted.

“You’re in for a treat, then,” he said, turning off the car. “As far as I’m concerned, this is one of the best kept secrets in Baltimore. Stay there,” he said, with a hint of that dominant tone he noticed Vivian responded to in the bedroom. It worked the same magic here, because her eyes darkened with instant lust.

Dean grinned as he climbed out of the car, hurrying around to open her door.

“A girl could get use to this,” she drawled as she stepped out.

The café wasn’t crowded, which suited Dean just fine. They were shown to a small table beside the front window, with a view of boats drifting lazily across the harbor. They both took a few minutes, studying the menus.

The waitress appeared with two water glasses. “Can I get you something else to drink first, or would you like to go ahead and order?”

“I’ll stick with water,” Vivian said. “Still on the clock.”

“Me too,” Dean said to the waitress. “As for our meal, are you ready to order?” he asked Vivian.

She closed the menu and told the waitress, “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”

Dean looked at her in surprise. “That’s brave.”

She giggled. “Should I be worried?”

“Hell yeah, you should. I’ve eaten arena food for most of my adult life. My standards are questionable.”

“I trust you.”

Those three words settled somewhere deep inside his chest. She probably hadn’t meant anything by them, but there was no denying they meant everything to him.

Dean forced himself to look back down at the menu—it was that or get lost in her lovely dark eyes—and placed their order. “We’ll start with cups of the crab corn chowder. Then we’ll have the Brussels sprout salad. After that…” He glanced up at her. “How do you feel about splitting the seafood platter?”

She rested her forearms on the table. “Sounds perfect.”

Dean handed the waitress the menus.

Over lunch, they talked about anything and everything—books, movies, childhood memories, favorite vacations, worst haircuts. The last topic was prompted by the fact Pip had gotten her hands on a pair of safety scissors at school and decided to give herself bangs.

“Mercifully, she didn’t go too short, so Belle was able to straighten them without it looking like a really bad bowl cut,” Vivian said, pulling out her phone so she could show him a photo. “Even so…”

Dean winced dramatically. Not because Pip’s hair looked that bad, but because he wanted to hear Vivian laugh again. It wasn’t until last week, when they were laughing in bed, that Dean realized she’d been doing that more and more whenever they were together. Hell, he was doing it more, and it felt good.

The waitress came over to refill their water glasses and to see if they wanted dessert. They both said, “no thank you,” and Vivian looked at the time almost regretfully. She didn’t want this lunch to end any more than he did.

“You need to get back?” Dean had a couple of hours before he absolutely had to be back at the arena for tonight’s home game. Truthfully, he typically spent the entire day before a game in his office, going over his plan, his lineup. Today…that felt less important than this meal.