darted around her stomach—she couldn’t believe she was actually nervous.
The doorbell rang and she scurried to get it. She prayed the night would go well, and that there wouldn’t be any of that fighting that seemed to erupt between them like an electrical fire amidst an otherwise normal day. Deeper within her heart, she prayed he’d put his hands all over her and take her to bed.
She pulled open the door and Luke smiled back at her, hands behind his back.
“Good evening.” He presented a small bouquet of roses. She gasped.
“Wow...” She took them from him, unsure of what to say. “Thanks. They’re really nice.”
He stepped inside, gazing at her. “You look great.”
Isabella blushed. He knew how to start things off. “Thanks.” Luke also knew how to dress the part—black pants perfectly showcased his butt, paired with a simple white button-up under a black sports jacket. He looked insanely delicious, but what was ever more tempting was the fact that she knew what lay underneath all the clothing. The thought drove her crazy.
“You look nice too,” she said, turning and walking to the kitchen. “I’m gonna put these in a vase.”
He followed her into the kitchen, silent, as she found a vase, filled it with water, and arranged the roses.
“So what do you think you want to do tonight?” He was staring at her with an intense gaze that suggested he might be perfectly content staying here and pursuing a more risqué activity.
“Dinner? And then we can...come back here?” She was horrified at the words spilling from her lips, but found almost no way to control herself. She wanted to do this, she realized. No matter how much she told herself she wasn’t attracted to him.
A flash in his eyes told her it had been exactly what he’d been thinking.
“I know where we can go,” Luke said. “It’ll be a surprise.”
He held out his hand, and she took it tentatively. He led her outside and into the driveway, where his sleek black convertible was waiting.
“Nice,” she murmured, and then quickly equivocated. “I mean...uh...”
“What? It’s okay if you have good taste in cars.” He grinned as they sat inside.
“Just painfully aware of how materialistic I sounded,” she muttered. “Kind of a fear of mine.”
Luke shot her a glance. “Babe, you’re not too materialistic. I’ve had conversations with girls for hours about what everyone else is wearing and how much it costs. You have nothing to worry about.” He paused, as if weighing his next words. “You actually have things to say, which is nice.”
She let the compliment seep into her, somehow proud of the fact that a man like Luke would notice that about her. A knot of happiness formed deep in her belly as she reveled in the fact that for at least one evening, she was the hot number on the sexy blond’s arm, whizzing through the humid night air and dancing happily along that line of friends and something more.
As they drove, Luke took her hand in his. Her hand sizzled where their skin touched, and the effect radiated through every limb in her body. “By the way, hand-holding is a completely harmless, friendly activity.” He looked over at her and winked. “I checked.”
She couldn’t fight him there. It was just what she wanted those hands to do that wasn’t so friendly or harmless.
After a few minutes, they pulled into the parking lot of Mario di Napoli’s, a family-owned restaurant big on glitz and even bigger on good food. Inside, a waitress led them to a cozy little booth with white linen on the table and a small candle in the middle.
“Got anything in mind?” she asked after the waitress had left and they were looking over their menus.
“I’m always one for spaghetti and meatballs,” he said, smiling boyishly. Isabella’s heart fluttered. Keep it harmless and friendly, she reminded herself.
“Good. I’m sold.” She looked over the menu a little bit more. “Ooh! And lots and lots of
The doorbell rang and she scurried to get it. She prayed the night would go well, and that there wouldn’t be any of that fighting that seemed to erupt between them like an electrical fire amidst an otherwise normal day. Deeper within her heart, she prayed he’d put his hands all over her and take her to bed.
She pulled open the door and Luke smiled back at her, hands behind his back.
“Good evening.” He presented a small bouquet of roses. She gasped.
“Wow...” She took them from him, unsure of what to say. “Thanks. They’re really nice.”
He stepped inside, gazing at her. “You look great.”
Isabella blushed. He knew how to start things off. “Thanks.” Luke also knew how to dress the part—black pants perfectly showcased his butt, paired with a simple white button-up under a black sports jacket. He looked insanely delicious, but what was ever more tempting was the fact that she knew what lay underneath all the clothing. The thought drove her crazy.
“You look nice too,” she said, turning and walking to the kitchen. “I’m gonna put these in a vase.”
He followed her into the kitchen, silent, as she found a vase, filled it with water, and arranged the roses.
“So what do you think you want to do tonight?” He was staring at her with an intense gaze that suggested he might be perfectly content staying here and pursuing a more risqué activity.
“Dinner? And then we can...come back here?” She was horrified at the words spilling from her lips, but found almost no way to control herself. She wanted to do this, she realized. No matter how much she told herself she wasn’t attracted to him.
A flash in his eyes told her it had been exactly what he’d been thinking.
“I know where we can go,” Luke said. “It’ll be a surprise.”
He held out his hand, and she took it tentatively. He led her outside and into the driveway, where his sleek black convertible was waiting.
“Nice,” she murmured, and then quickly equivocated. “I mean...uh...”
“What? It’s okay if you have good taste in cars.” He grinned as they sat inside.
“Just painfully aware of how materialistic I sounded,” she muttered. “Kind of a fear of mine.”
Luke shot her a glance. “Babe, you’re not too materialistic. I’ve had conversations with girls for hours about what everyone else is wearing and how much it costs. You have nothing to worry about.” He paused, as if weighing his next words. “You actually have things to say, which is nice.”
She let the compliment seep into her, somehow proud of the fact that a man like Luke would notice that about her. A knot of happiness formed deep in her belly as she reveled in the fact that for at least one evening, she was the hot number on the sexy blond’s arm, whizzing through the humid night air and dancing happily along that line of friends and something more.
As they drove, Luke took her hand in his. Her hand sizzled where their skin touched, and the effect radiated through every limb in her body. “By the way, hand-holding is a completely harmless, friendly activity.” He looked over at her and winked. “I checked.”
She couldn’t fight him there. It was just what she wanted those hands to do that wasn’t so friendly or harmless.
After a few minutes, they pulled into the parking lot of Mario di Napoli’s, a family-owned restaurant big on glitz and even bigger on good food. Inside, a waitress led them to a cozy little booth with white linen on the table and a small candle in the middle.
“Got anything in mind?” she asked after the waitress had left and they were looking over their menus.
“I’m always one for spaghetti and meatballs,” he said, smiling boyishly. Isabella’s heart fluttered. Keep it harmless and friendly, she reminded herself.
“Good. I’m sold.” She looked over the menu a little bit more. “Ooh! And lots and lots of
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