Chapter 19
nineteen
“That was the best meal I’ve ever eaten,” I say as we head down the wide sidewalk lining the cobblestone street. I glance over my shoulder at the black decorative sign that reads Ella’s, already feeling a little sad that I’ll probably never eat there again.
We thought about splitting a dessert, but as soon as we saw there were no options that didn’t have chocolate or fruit, it was a bust. Chase was perfectly content with the idea of watching me down an entire piece of chocolate cake by myself, but I passed.
As if reading my mind, Chase says, “Just say the word, and we’ll go again. They’re a client of the firm.” He takes my hand in his, and it somehow relaxes me and makes me jittery all at once.
“Is that how you managed to get a reservation?” I’ve never tried to book a table, but I’ve heard clients complain about waiting months.
His lips lift as we walk. “I worked on their campaign for a while and had some good ideas, so I pulled some strings. I sometimes have the luxury of seeming important. ”
Letting out a laugh, I take my free hand and pat his arm reassuringly. “Don’t worry, you’re very important.” My hand is met with the hard muscle of his biceps, and it takes everything in me not to wrap my fingers around it. I’ve only ever seen him with a shirt on, but the sudden desire I have to tear it off is . . . unsettling. I quickly adjust my purse on my shoulder to give my hand something else to do. “So, where to now?” My voice comes out a little breathless, and I hope he doesn’t notice.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love Ella’s.” Chase stops at a crosswalk and looks both ways before pulling me across the street. “But their portions are small.”
Once we’re on the sidewalk, he slows, and I say, “You’re still hungry?”
He glances down at me in disbelief. “Aren’t you?”
I hadn’t really thought about it, but I guess he’s right. I’m content, but I don’t feel full.
Reading through my hesitation, he glances at the shops around us and asks, “Do you like beer?”
“What?” I ask with a breath of laughter. “Why?”
“Because I’ve only ever seen you drink wine, but I could go for some tacos up ahead. The only drawback is that I don’t think they’ll have your Chardonnay.”
My favorite taco place sits up ahead on the right. “Well, I don’t like beer.” His feet slow before I can finish my sentence like he’s already regrouping and ready to take me somewhere else, so I quickly add, “But they have margaritas, so it’s fine.” I only had one glass of wine with dinner, so the switch shouldn’t be an issue.
He lifts an eyebrow. “You like margaritas?”
I nod. “Love them.”
He practically groans. “The thought of kissing you while you taste like tequila and lime is doing unspeakable things to me, Candace. I hope you know that.”
I’m glad he’s holding my hand because without him pulling me forward, that would have stopped me in my tracks. He said it so casually too, like he could have been talking about the weather. He doesn’t even look at me to check for my reaction—and thank God for that because I have no idea what color my cheeks are right now, but my entire body is burning.
As soon as the door opens, we’re met with a rush of sound. It doesn’t matter that it’s late and other places are closing, Paco’s Tacos is alive and well. The workers yell orders to each other from the kitchen, and the line of people grow louder and drunker the later it gets. We stand in line behind a group of guys who look like they were probably a part of a frat a few years ago, and they can’t quite let that part of their life die.
Leaning in toward Chase, I say, “This is my favorite place to get tacos.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Really? How have I never seen you here?”
“I don’t know,” I say with a light lift of my shoulder. “I’m probably in here at least once a week.”
He blinks. “Damn, you’ve been here all along, haven’t you?”
I’m not quite sure what he means by that, so I just tilt my head with a pinch of my brow. “I haven’t been far, that’s for sure.” Nodding to the menu boards hanging above, I add, “This one’s on me.”
With a shake of his head, he says, “Grab that table in the back corner while it’s still open. I’ll meet you over there. What can I get you?”
I hesitate, my mouth open and ready to fight him on this. I can’t let him pay for everything.
Keeping his voice low, his eyes jump between mine. “There’s no way I’m letting you spend a penny tonight.”
I arch an eyebrow.
“You don’t scare me, beautiful.”
A slow smile pulls at the corner of my lips. “You’re lying. ”
His expression mirrors my own. “I am.” Straightening, he adds, “But the way I see it, you have two options. Either you can tell me what you want, or I’ll get you the same thing I order.” He gives me a sideways glance. “I’d love to see you down three tacos and a lager.”
My lips purse. “You know I don’t like beer.”
The line moves ahead of us, and he takes a step. “Which is why you should hurry up and tell me.”
With a shake of my head, I purse my lips. “Fine. Get me a chicken double-decker and a margarita with salt.”
A satisfied smile stretches across his chiseled features. “God, I love it when you’re bossy.”
“Unbelievable,” I huff with a shake of my head before ducking out of line. I take a seat in one of the chairs he pointed to earlier and try to wrap my head around the night I’m having. I’ve been in this taco place more times than I can count, and yet, being here with Chase makes it new.
He pays for our food and heads toward me with paper trays, a plastic cup holding a margarita, and his bottle of beer tucked under his arm. We’re severely overdressed, and the sight of him in his well-pressed clothes has a smile tugging at my lips.
As nice as he looks, being here with him makes me wish he were in a T-shirt like he was when we got coffee. There’s something sexy about seeing him more relaxed. This is the version of himself he always has on display. I want access to the lesser-known Chase—the version he reserves for weekends and those closest to him.
But the thought of taking polished Chase and turning him into a disheveled mess of a man is sexy, too.
Catching myself, I blink and refocus.
Chase moves his chair from across the small table so that it’s right next to mine before he settles into it. “Not close enough for you?” I tease .
He winks as he places my margarita and taco in front of me and rests his hand on the back of my chair. His fingers send little jolts of electricity across my back, leaving my skin buzzing in their wake. “At the party, you and I will be next to each other like this. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to get some tacos and see how it goes.”
“Tacos never hurt.” I take a bite and close my eyes for a moment as the perfect combination of flavors hits my tongue. When I come back, he’s watching me with a twinge of a smile.
“You look amazing.”
“It’s the power of the dress,” I say with a hand covering my mouthful. Swallowing, I sit up straight. “I promise I don’t look like this in anything else I own.”
“No,” he says with that same faint smile. He leans in closer. “Don’t get me wrong, that dress is . . .” He blows out a breath. “Certainly something, but you with a taco is where the real magic happens.”
A laugh escapes me, but I shake my head and go for another bite. “Eat, Chase.”
He does, watching me with amusement the entire time. “When are you going to cut my hair?”
Wiping my hands on a napkin, I stare at his brunette locks. They’re starting to have some wave to them. Reaching up, I run my hand through his hair, getting a feel for what he’s looking for with my fingertips. It’s something I do at work all the time, so I didn’t think anything of it. But the way this man melts at my touch brings me too much delight. I let my fingers trail down the back of his neck as I pull my hand back. “Don’t you have someone who usually cuts your hair?”
“Yes, but I like you more.”
My eyes snap to meet his. “I’m not cutting your hair.”
He shakes his head, bewildered. “Why? I’ll pay you. I’m not looking for a handout. Let me schedule an appointment, and I’ll come to the salon like your other clients. ”
I take a sip of my margarita to buy time and hope the tequila will hit me in a matter of seconds. He isn’t my client. He’s a man I’m fake dating for a Christmas party, who I am so undeniably attracted to it scares me. He’s someone I won’t be able to stay friends with if these feelings don’t go away, so the last thing I need is for him to come in every six weeks for a haircut. “I think your hair looks great the way it is, but if you want it cut, go get it cut. It just won’t be me who does it.”
He gives me a teasing smile, beautifully ignorant of how serious I am. “I guess I’ll wait then.”
I roll my eyes and take another sip. “Aren’t we here to practice something?”
He keeps his eyes on me a beat too long, his expression unchanging. “You’re right.” Moving his chair a few inches closer to mine, he says, “This is about how close we’ll be sitting at the party. It will be a large round table with a few other people from my department. We’ll have to sit through some end of the year ceremony bullshit, but there will be plenty of Chardonnay to get you through it.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
“Good.” He nods. “And I probably won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”
I force out a laugh. “Right. Because these people know you well, and that’s what history has proven.” I give him a sideways glance.
He holds my gaze. “Something like that.”
I go to look anywhere else, my heart pounding, but he leans in closer, and his magnetic force demands my full attention.
His eyes are sincere when he says, “No one would believe I’d be able to keep my hands off you because no one would believe any man could keep his hands off you. I’ve been struggling with it all night, and we’re not even really dating.” He shakes his head. “If you were mine, there’s no way we’d be sitting here like this. ”
I swallow hard, and when I go to speak, my voice comes out quieter than I intended. “What would we be doing?”
Chase’s warm, brown eyes search mine, but I have no idea what he’s looking for. “Well,” he finally says as he moves his hand to the inside of my knee. “I probably would have had my hand here most of the night.” His fingers drag over my skin in slow, teasing circles.
My leg falls open a little wider on instinct, and Chase’s fingers slowly circle higher. My breathing shallows, and I clasp my hands in front of my mouth with my elbows on the table and force a steadying breath. This dress won’t hide the way he affects me. My chest and back are too exposed, my shallow breaths too evident.
His touch lights a fire through me, and every time his fingers circle higher, the heavy heat between my legs intensifies. When he reaches the middle of my thigh, I’ve lost all hope of controlling my breathing. My eyes dart around the busy restaurant, and Chase says, “No one’s watching.”
He’s right, of course. Everyone is too busy with their own plans to care about the couple sitting close in the corner. I tilt my head to look at him. “What else?”
His mouth quirks, and he pulls his hand away from my leg. Moving it to the back of my neck, his feather-light touch caresses the nape, sending tingles down my spine. He guides me closer to him, bringing his lips to my ear. “I’d whisper all my filthy thoughts in your ear.”
My breath catches in my throat, and when he massages his thumb up the side of my neck, I naturally tilt my head to give him more access. Without so much as a warning, he presses his lips to the spot just below my ear in one slow, torturous kiss. Before I can stop it, an audible sigh leaves my lips, and I feel him smile against my skin. “And you definitely would have made that sound more than once tonight.”
He slowly pulls away, and I blink like being roused from a dream. Shaking my head, I hope my bemused smile hides how turned on I am. “You’re despicable.”
He grins. “You don’t know the half of it.”
I believe him. The way he just made me feel, in a matter of seconds, in the back of a taco shop, is probably a fraction of what he could do if given the . . . opportunity. There’s no way a man like him doesn’t know how to make a woman feel good. Miles’s advice to sleep with Chase echoes in the back of my mind, and I take a larger sip of my margarita, swallowing down my temptation with it.
“And are you?”
My eyes dart to meet his. “Am I what?”
“Despicable?” He gives me a roguish smile. “Because tonight you’ve been acting like nothing short of a saint.”
Setting down my drink, I shift to face him and give him a leveling look. “Chase.”
“Candace.”
Slowly, I lean toward him. “Are you worried I won’t deliver?” Before I can even think about what I’m doing, my hand is on his chest, my fingers trailing over every muscle beneath his shirt. We’re close enough to kiss like this, and my tongue instinctively wets my bottom lip at the thought. Chase’s eyes track the movement and stay locked on my lips. My hand continues to trail until I reach the top of his belt. My fingers lightly brush his crotch as I pull my hand away.
He isn’t smirking anymore. He isn’t even smiling. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s flustered . With a shake of his head, he swallows. “I wouldn’t doubt you for a second.”
I give him a side-long glance, desperate to touch him more but fighting it. “Good.” Smiling at him, I add, “I promise to pull out all the stops for your party.” Because if I do much more right now, I won’t be able to stop.
Regaining some of his usual confidence, he eyes me up and down without shame, challenge brewing. “I look forward to it. ”
“I bet you do,” I say with a laugh, and his smile only stretches further. “So, how did we meet?” I need to get this conversation back to safer territory.
He gives me a funny look. “I accidentally asked you out, and it was the best mistake I’ve ever made.”
Something comes out of me halfway between a scoff and a laugh. “That’s the story you want to go with?”
He looks mildly offended. “It’s a great story.”
My nose crinkles. “Yeah, if you want to make me look pathetic.”
He sets his bottle down mid-sip. “What?”
I shift to face him. “What type of self-respecting woman dates a man who not only had no intention of asking her out, but also went back to ask out the right girl the next day?” I lift a dubious brow.
Amusement dances in his eyes like he knows he’s playing with fire. “One who can’t resist my charm?”
I playfully shove him and turn to face forward again. “You’re not that pretty.”
He brings his hand to his chest with a wounded expression. “First of all,” he says, holding up a finger. “I am exactly that pretty. And second”—he holds up another finger—“you could never be pathetic. Look at it this way, a man thought he knew what he wanted until you came along and showed him otherwise. What’s wrong with that?”
I shake my head. How can he not see this for what it is? There’s no way anyone would think this is a good story. “Says the man who also went back to ask another girl out after meeting me, and when he got turned down, he settled.”
A slow smile stretches across his face. “Well, men are stupid.”
“ So stupid.”
His lips twist. “Okay, fine. We can meet however you’d like, but I will warn you, I’m a terrible liar, and I’m known for going off-script.”
“Noted.” I shrug. “We can just meet at a coffee shop then. Let’s just leave out the part about the barista.” I give him a sideways glance.
“Layla,” he gently corrects.
I wave him off. “Yes, yes. I know her name.”
His head tilts, those brilliant eyes inspecting me. “Are you . . . jealous?”
My heart hammers in my chest. I’m not sure jealous is the right word. Do I wish he had asked me out instead? Sure. But that’s about as far as my feelings toward her go. I lean back to get a better look at him. “The only thing I’m jealous of is the fact that she doesn’t have to use dating apps anymore.”
His eyes narrow like he doesn’t believe me. “Okay,” he says. “We met at a coffee shop, and you were way out of my league.” Widening his legs to make room, he slowly inches my chair closer toward him. “I couldn’t see why you would ever be interested in a guy like me. I was about to leave, but at the last minute, I wrote on my receipt asking for your number. And by some fucking miracle, you actually gave it to me.”
By the time he finishes, the side of my chair is flush against the front of his. I’m hanging onto his every word, completely in a trance being this close. And who smells this good? Like Christmas trees with a dash of spice. All I want to do is climb into his lap—which wouldn’t be a stretch from where we’re at, considering I can feel the warmth of his thighs on either side of me.
The corner of his mouth quirks, and he quickly adds, “Then I grabbed your hand, dragged you home, and we had the best sex either of us has ever had.”
“Chase!” I push him away from me, laughing. But with our chairs this close, there’s only so much space for him to go. “You’re . . .” I shake my head, still laughing .
He cocks an eyebrow. “Despicable?”
I nod. “Yes, among other things.”
That beautiful, easy smile covers his face. “One day, I’d love to hear all the things you think I am.” His fingers brush over my exposed back, and his touch has my heart racing. “But I should probably get you home.”
“Probably.” I don’t want this night to end, but I know he’s right. If this were a real date, our night might be just beginning. Maybe he would take me back to his place and—no. I shut the thought down before it runs away with me.
Chase holds my hand for the walk back to his car, he touches my leg twice on the drive home, and by the time we’re standing outside my front door, it all feels like it went by too fast. This date has been a dream, and it’s not even real, but there’s still a chance he might kiss me at the end. My head spins, trying to keep up.
“Thanks for tonight.” I reach for my keys. “I don’t think I’ve ever had food as good as that.”
“The company wasn’t bad either.”
“No.” I smile. “I guess it wasn’t.”
He leans in, and even though my heart feels like it stops, everything else is in overdrive. I force myself to breathe, and when his lips find my cheek, I freeze. A kiss on the cheek? Leave it to Chase to be modest now. When he pulls back, he keeps his face close to mine. “I promise to kiss you properly before the event. I’m just afraid if I kiss you now . . .” His gaze is fixed on my mouth.
“It will be too soon.”
He blinks. “Yeah.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “We might forget.”
Despite my disappointment, my mouth pulls upward. “We wouldn’t want that to happen.” Turning, I unlock the door and slip inside. Before closing it, I say, “Goodnight.”
Chase nods. “Night, Candace. ”
As soon as I’m fully inside, I lean my back against the door for support. Miles is watching some type of gruesome horror movie, but he pauses it when he sees me. “So . . .” he says hesitantly. “How did it go?”
What a loaded question. How did it go? Great. Easily the best date I’ve ever been on. I didn’t want it to end. It felt too short, too fun, and for a man I’m not actually dating, he knows how to turn me on way too much.
So, in another sense, the date was terrible. Nothing about him turned me off like I was hoping, I’m no closer to finding his fatal flaw, and he left me wanting more—a lot more.
I walk over to the couch and lie down, my head landing just outside Miles’s lap and my legs up on the couch even though I haven’t taken my heels off. Staring up at the ceiling, I sigh. “I am so fucked.”
He just laughs and pets my head. “I know, honey. I know.”