Chapter Eight #2
He grinned sexily, and her tummy flipped. “All of them.”
Roxy stepped closer to him when a woman asked to get by.
He didn’t follow her lead by moving back; he simply let her bump into his chest and held her there with a strong forearm.
She tried not to think about which parts of her body were pressed against certain parts of his.
He was standing too close, and he’d see it all over her face.
Approachable abs. Approachable abs. What were we talking about ? “All seven of them?”
He hummed in his throat, and she felt the vibration against her chest. “The only thing I know for certain you like is peanut butter and banana sandwiches. I wanted to give you options.”
“You’re a little dangerous, aren’t you?”
“Depends what you mean.”
She wet her lips when his gaze landed on her mouth, but he made no move to kiss her, the prick. “You didn’t even bat an eyelash at my nutso roommates. Now you’re giving me the feeling of being in charge of this date even though you planned the whole thing. And I’m kind of buying it.”
“My evil plan is working.” His hold on her tightened. “So, which restaurant? If you leave it up to me, I’m just going to pick whichever one is busiest so there’s a chance you’ll have to sit on my lap.”
“Ah, there’s the catch. You made a reservation for one person, didn’t you?”
“No.” His head fell forward onto her shoulder with a groan. “I didn’t think of that. See? I’m not the date mastermind you thought I was. Disappointed?”
She moved free of his grasp, even though he didn’t make it easy. Keep your head, girl. He’s way better at this than the guys you’re used to, but he’s not different. He can’t be. “I’ll only be disappointed if we don’t check out the brewery on the roof. Come on.”
“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”
They took the stairs to Birreria, a glass-enclosed restaurant on Eataly’s rooftop.
Their table—for two—overlooked the skyline, which had just started to light up with the oncoming darkness.
Every table in the place was filled with couples and groups of friends, laughing and tossing back drinks.
Waiters moved gracefully through the rows of seated customers, dropping off pints of beer and plated meals.
She took a moment to marvel over the way everything moved like clockwork, just like the rest of the city, predictable in its unpredictability.
It was nice to have a reminder of how much she loved this city, when lately her experience here had her forgetting why she came in the first place.
She felt Louis watching her, his gaze moving like a rough palm over her skin. In this lighting, his dark eyes were even more shadowed, the scruff on his face more pronounced. Throw in the panty-melting way he perused her and she felt the sudden need to dump ice water over her head.
“I know what you’re thinking about,” she said.
“You might know the what, but you don’t know the how.”
Good God. The more time she spent with him, the more she did want to know. Badly. “Hmm. Why were you in Queens yesterday eating Greek food?”
His hand went to his stomach, a pained look claiming his expression. “A client of mine ... he and his wife decided to feed me for a whole year in one sitting. She thinks people are like camels, storing food in their humps until they need it.”
“Does she want to adopt me? I earn my keep.”
“I’ll put in a good word.” A waiter approached, and they gave him their drink orders. Roxy returned her attention to Louis to find him considering her. “Where are your parents, Rox?”
She thought the question had come out of the blue until she remembered her remark about being adopted.
The last thing she wanted to talk about was her parents, but she supposed she better clear up his misconception that she was an orphan.
“New Jersey.” And then change the subject as quickly as possible. “What about yours?”
He looked as though he wanted to press for more details, but he relented with a sigh. “Dad is in Manhattan, Mom is living in France with their divorce attorney.”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah.”
They both sipped their recently arrived beers. “What about your sisters, the twin terrors? Are they in the city, too?”
“Oh yes, they’re here. I’m surprised you can’t feel their gravitational pull of mayhem.”
“Is that what I’m feeling? I thought the beer had already gone to my head.” His low laugh traveled across the table and settled over her, making her feel as though they were the only people in the room. “Tell me a story about them. The worst one.”
He leaned in closer. “I’ll tell you a story, but then I get three questions and you have to answer them. No more redirecting.”
“You won’t impress me with your fancy lawyer talk.
” When he only waited, she nodded reluctantly.
It didn’t feel right deflecting his questions anymore.
Not when she knew so much more about him, his family.
Not when she kind of wanted him to know something about her.
What would it hurt? “Fair enough. You can have your three questions.”
The pleased look on his face made her skin feel hot beneath her dress.
He looked like ... he wanted to reward her for making the concession.
Now. In a very specific way. She almost gave in and asked him to describe the thoughts in his head, but the waiter appeared at the table and broke the spell.
Not even having looked at the menu, she decided quickly on the fish entrée and handed the menu to the waiter.
“Okay, I’m ready. Horrify me.”
Louis propped both elbows on the table and swiped a hand through his hair.
His storytelling pose? “Lena was born three minutes before Celeste. It’s always been kind of a sore spot, and that’s putting it mildly.
” He picked up his beer and put it back down.
“When they were both six years old, Lena hit a growth spurt first and was one inch taller for a single year. One inch. The nanny found Lena tied up in her room. Celeste was standing over her, holding a saw. She’d stolen it from the super’s supply closet.
She was getting ready to saw off the extra inch. ”
Roxy clapped a hand over her mouth to prevent her sip of beer from escaping. “No way. That didn’t happen.”
“Fine. It didn’t happen.” He dodged the napkin she threw at him. “You ready for the real story?”
“It’s going to be a letdown after that.”
“You think so?” She nodded, which only made him look smug.
“When they were ten, my parents sent them to summer camp. It wasn’t the kind you’re thinking of.
They didn’t do arts and crafts or go hiking.
They basically sunbathed and read magazines for two weeks at a lakeside resort.
Anyway, there was a talent show. They lip-synced to “The Boy Is Mine” .
.. Brandy and Monica ... you know the one? ”
“Yes, and it’s a classic. Continue.”
“Well, the judges gave them second place. I don’t even think there was an actual prize for winning, it was just a way to entertain the kids for a couple hours.
” His tone turned serious. “They didn’t strike right away.
They bided their time. Waited six years, until they got their driver’s licenses.
Then they drove to the first-place winner’s house in the Hamptons and slashed his tires. ”
Very slowly, she set her drink down. “Please tell me this one is made up, too.”
“Nope. I was in the backseat, being scarred for life.”
The waiter sidled up to their table holding a tray full of food. Both of them leaned back so he could set down the plates. “Have your sisters found husbands to terrorize yet?”
Louis nodded once. “Lena is getting married next week.”
“Poor guy.” She picked up her fork. “Is it a blood ceremony?”
“She hasn’t involved me in the planning, but I wouldn’t discount anything.” He stayed silent until the waiter left. “Actually, you met her fiancé last week, Rox.”
Confusion had her pausing in the act of taking her first bite, but unwanted recognition finally crept in. She lowered her hand until it rested on the table, her heart beating dully in her chest. “That was your sister’s fiancé’s bachelor party? I almost ...” Took my clothes off for him.
“Almost.” He shook his head. “But you didn’t.”
Stupid. So stupid that she’d never put it together.
Never asked Louis how he knew the guest of honor.
Instead, she’d avoided any memory of it, the same way she did with anything else unpleasant.
Just pretending it didn’t happen. Jesus, what was she doing here with this guy?
What could come of it? She could never show her face around his friends or family lest they judge her straight into the ground. Their entire association was doomed.
Louis scrubbed a hand over his face. “I should’ve waited longer to tell you.”
She forced herself to take a bite of fish. “What difference would it have made?”
“Maybe if I’d waited for you to know me better, you wouldn’t be looking for the closest exit.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Rox.”
“Fine, I was.” She took an impatient sip of her beer. “You earned your three questions, Louis. Fire away.”
He stared at her hard a moment in a way that suggested he wanted to shake some sense into her. “You’re the type who fulfills her end of a deal, aren’t you?”
She shrugged, wondering where he was going with this line of questioning. “Yes. I am.”
“Good.” He dug into his meal. “Then I’ll have to make sure I space those three questions out.”
Roxy’s eyebrows rose. Well played .