Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Blake
I’ve always considered myself a direct man with clear boundaries. I always try to say what I mean and do what I say.
But the kind of directness I just laid on Cassie? It was off the charts, even for me.
I’ve been a serial dater for years—young, old, short, tall, curvy, thin; strippers, actresses, waitresses, executives—I’ve dated hundreds of women. There’s been plenty of chemistry, but there’s always been goodbyes. Never once did my pulse stutter or feel butterflies in my stomach.
Until Cassie.
And come hell or high water, I’m not letting her go.
I pull the cruiser into Hometown Slice, finding a spot up front.
“Don’t move, let me get your door for you.”
She’s outside before my boots hit the ground. The girl’s got spunk. I like that too.
I round the hood and rest my palm at the small of her back. She tenses, just for a heartbeat, then keeps pace with me to the door, tolerating the escort even if she hates the man giving it.
“What’s your favorite pizza?” I ask.
Her eyes latch onto mine—sharp, suspicious, beautiful. “I have a feeling if I don’t tell you, you’re going to order every pizza on the menu.”
“Aw, honey,” I say, tugging the handle and swinging the door open. “You know me so well already. See? We’re perfect for each other.”
She rolls those green eyes. “Pepperoni, please.”
Inside, the garlic-scented air smells like heaven. I scan the dining area looking for a booth instead of a table. I spy an empty one in the back.
“Gus,” I call to the mountain behind the counter, “large pepperoni, basket of wings. And—babe, what would you like to drink?”
She winces at my nickname for her, but she doesn’t correct me. I’ll take that as a win.
“Diet anything works.”
“A diet and a regular Coke.”
“You got it!” Gus booms, scratching his beard with a flour-dusted knuckle.
We slide into a booth.
“Have you ever been here?” I ask.
“No.” Her gaze drifts to the art on the wall. “It’s nice. I really like the canvas paintings. They’re beautiful. If I’m not mistaken, they’re Italian landscapes and street scenes.”
“You’re spot on. Gus goes to Italy every year,” I tell her. “He buys one painting as a souvenir and adds it to the wall. He makes the best pizza in Arizona. You’re going to love it.”
“We’ll see,” she sighs. “This is all very weird, you know.”
“You’re right.” I nod once. “Let’s take the weirdness out of it. Don’t move.”
I stand, walk outside into the night for a beat, then come right back in and head straight to our table. She tips her head to the side, utterly confused.
“Hi,” I offer my hand. “I’m Blake.”
She tries not to smile and loses. “Hi, I’m Cassie.” Her soft hand slides into mine.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I force myself to let her hand go. “Are you eating alone?”
“I was…” she blushes.
“May I join you?”
“Sure,” she shrugs, but her eyes are brighter now.
I sit back down just as Gus arrives with our wings and drinks.
“Gus, this is my girlfriend, Cassie,” I give her a wink. “Cassie, this is Gus. The best pizza chef in the country.”
“Pleased to meet you, Cassie. Any friend of Blake’s is a friend of mine. Let me know if you two need anything else.”
“Thank you,” Cassie peels the paper from her straw.
As soon as Gus is out of earshot, she jams her straw into her drink and gives me an icy glare that should scare me, but it doesn’t. It gives me a glimpse of the wildcat she keeps hidden inside, and I like that—a whole helluva lot. “I am not your girlfriend,” she growls.
I lean in, my elbows on the table, completely unbothered. “I could’ve called you my fiancée, but I figured that would be too much for you right now. I’m trying to ease you into this whole thing.”
Her jaw drops. “Are you mad?”
“I’m crazy,” I drop my elbows, leaning in closer, “over you.”
She blinks, then shakes her head. “Is this all part of the Book Boyfriend thing? Did Nan put you up to it? Are you a cop or are you an actor from Vegas? What’s really going on here?”
“Babe, do you want the truth?”
“It’s the only thing I want.”
“Then here it is.” I stare into her eyes.
“I am a cop. I’ve been a cop for twenty-two years.
Twenty-one years in Vegas, and this is my first year on the Love Canyon force.
I’m not an actor. I’ve met Nan a few times in passing—mostly at church when I take my grandmother.
I have absolutely no idea what a Book Boyfriend even is, or about a blind date for that matter.
The moment I saw you—before I heard a single word about being set up on a blind date—I knew… you are the one for me.”
Something shifts behind her eyes, “I don’t believe in love at first sight,” she thrusts her chin out. “And I sure as hell don’t believe in marriage.”
“Not yet,” I say, and slide the basket of wings toward her. “But you will.”
She huffs, plucking a wing out of the basket. She dips it, takes a bite, sauce glinting on her lower lip before she licks it away.
I could watch her eat for hours.
“You do realize,” choosing another wing with exaggerated care, “that you sound completely unhinged.”
“Maybe.” I take a wing for myself. “You do realize you haven’t run.”
“It’s only because I can’t judge the best pizza in Arizona without trying it.”
“That’s a fair point.”
Gus sets the pie in the middle of the table. The cheese is bubbling, thick slices of pepperoni curling at the edges, and the scent of oregano makes my stomach growl. He gives me a wink and a wicked grin. “Enjoy, lovebirds.”
“I’m going to have to start carrying a sign,” she mutters, “that says: Not his girlfriend.”
“Don’t bother.” I lift a slice, sliding it onto her plate. “They won’t believe you.”
She takes a bite. Chews. Swallows. Then another, bigger bite. Her eyes flutter shut for half a second.
“So,” I pop a pepperoni in my mouth, “is it the best in Arizona?”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but yes, it is,” she takes another bite. Sauce kisses the corner of her mouth. I reach across the table and brush the sauce away with my thumb, and those green eyes flare.
The room narrows to breath and heat and the thud of my heart. I want to kiss her right now. But I can’t. Not yet.
Our eyes lock, sending currents of electricity charging through me.
“Thank you,” she whispers, grabbing a napkin to dab at her mouth.
“You’re welcome,” I sit back.
Yup, the deal is sealed.
Cassie is the one woman I’m never going to have to say goodbye to.