Chapter 16 #2
I imagined James’ apartment would be dark wood, minimal, modern furniture, floor-to-ceiling glass windows high in the sky, with only a few personal touches. Not that I’d ever get to see it. Of course not.
“We have reservations.” I said, shaking the thought off.
We passed the long line snaking out the door, and I gave my name to the hostess.
She grabbed two menus and ushered us to one of the last open tables at the back.
An awkward silence hung between us now that we were alone.
The air seemed to hum with the unspoken memory of last night’s kiss.
It had consumed my thoughts ever since I’d fumbled for my keys, trying to unlock my door and still reeling from how James had pressed me against the building.
His kiss, raw and urgent, had made my skin burn with a longing I couldn’t explain.
I tugged at my collar, feeling suddenly too warm.
“Maybe one day you’ll have a permanent table at places like this.” James pulled my chair out for me. His unexpected acts of kindness outside of our dates threw me off every time. Was this a date? How was I supposed to act? What did this mean?
The questions whirled in my head as I glanced over the menu, trying to distract myself. I already knew what I wanted, but reading the words helped me avoid any eye contact.
“Maybe,” I mused, inhaling the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee as the waiter placed a ceramic pot, complete with tiny creamers, on the table.
“So, what’s good here, Miss Expert?” James asked me as he studied the menu.
Sitting here with him, surrounded by the sounds of sizzling bacon and the cozy hum of Saturday morning, felt unexpectedly intimate.
“Their chicken and waffles are some of the best in the city but huevos rancheros are my favorite,” I offered, trying to sound casual.
The waiter returned and took our order—two huevos rancheros and an order of bite-sized pancakes to share.
When she left, I turned back to James. “You mentioned you had an idea for our third date?” I asked, clearing my throat as I fought to regain my focus.
James poured himself a cup of coffee as he nodded. “Yes. I wanted to run it by you first instead of surprising you, because it would be a couple of overnight stays.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. The mere mention of an overnight stay with him sent a rush of nerves through me.
It meant that we would spend more time together than we ever had before.
I tried to suppress the flood of questions.
Would he expect to share a bed? Where was he taking me? Was it just the two of us?
“Memorial Day is this weekend, and I thought there’s nothing more extravagant than being whisked away to the Hamptons.
” James’s voice pulled me back to the present.
“I figured we could invite Sebastian and Roxie too. My parents are renovating their place, but it should be usable enough for all of us.”
“You want to take me to the Hamptons?” The thought hit me harder than I expected.
The Hamptons? I’d been there once with friends, but we’d stuck to a few dive bars and local joints.
This was different. The magazine could eat it up, though.
I could practically hear Anthea’s voice in my head, praising clicks and shares this article would generate.
I hesitated, the nervous tightness in my throat growing. It felt like too much. But then I thought about Roxie, who would jump at the chance to go if she were in my place.
“It’s too much,” I started, but James’s face fell, and his cheeks flushed pink as he assumed I was turning him down.
“I can figure out something else to do in the city,” he said quickly, but I reached out, placing a hand over his.
“No,” I quickly interjected. “I would love to go to the Hamptons with you.”
A visible sense of relief washed over his face, the tension in his shoulders easing. He gave me a smile that melted something inside me.
“Oh. Okay, great,” he said.
His gaze lingered on me, warm and steady, and I squeezed my thighs together as a sudden heat surged between them. My mind flashed to the conversation I’d had with Roxie.
“I’m worried that I’m maybe, possibly, having some feelings for him.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I think I’m going to have to make sure I’m going to the gym if we keep up these dates,” James joked, as the waiter brought our appetizer of mini pancakes out. “If food is your love language, I may put on a few pounds trying to make you happy.”
He laughed, digging into the pancakes, and divided up the appetizer between us. But my mind was reeling from what he’d said. Trying to make the other person happy? That’s what people on proper dates do, right? Or was there something else going on here?
Maybe this wasn’t about the article and the review for his family’s restaurant after all.
My mind kept circling back to that kiss.
To the way James looked at me, like he was actually …
interested. I’d hoped to keep this professional, but if I was being honest with myself, there was a small part of me that wanted to see if there was something more.
“Would you prefer a lot of syrup, or just a little?” James asked while I stared at him, dumbfounded.
“A lot,” I rasped, my throat suddenly dry.
One kiss had sent me spiraling. And now, the idea of spending an entire weekend with James in the Hamptons left me both exhilarated and terrified. How was I possibly going to survive?