Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
F ord
After a week of long-distance teasing, nonstop travel days, and Landyn’s voice in my head every time I close my eyes, I need her. Not through a screen. Not in a text bubble. Not at the office. Just us, together, in a place where we don’t have to pretend, we’re not halfway in love again.
The drive to her place is fast, the sky already dipping into shades of gold and copper by the time I turn down her street. I don’t bother running through what I’m going to say or do, I’ve been thinking about her too much to plan it out.
All I know is, I want tonight to feel different. I want more.
I want to take her out on a date.
Hold her hand.
Take things further.
I park out front of the little cottage and step out into the cooling air, the scent of the ocean immediately hitting me.
I take the stairs two at a time and knock on her door.
She opens it a moment later, and just like that my whole body lights up.
She’s wearing a soft blue dress that hits mid-thigh, her hair loose in soft waves around her face. I can’t stop staring.
“Hey,” I say, a little lower than I mean to.
She smiles—nervous, but real. “Hey.”
“You look…” I drag my eyes over her again, slower this time. “Like I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”
That gets a quiet laugh. “That must mean you like my dress.”
I nod, stepping forward, “I do. Very much. Can I kiss you?”
She blushes, her hand sliding up my chest as my hands move to her nape. “That would be nice.”
I touch my lips to her, humming as I kiss her.
I smile against her lips. “We should go before we’re late.”
It feels warm, familiar. I don’t know where this night is going but I already know I don’t want it to end.
Ten minutes later, we’re walking towards the front doors of the restaurant.
I picked Wave and Warf because it has a low-key vibe that felt perfect for tonight—dim lights, ocean views, and just far enough away from Deep Cove’s hot spots that we shouldn’t run into anyone from the office. I don’t want any interruptions.
I watch her slide into the booth across from me, dress hugging her legs, those soft waves brushing her collarbone.
She looks around the restaurant, one brow raised. “Wow. Tablecloths and everything.”
“I’m trying to win you over,” I say, shrugging out of my jacket. “I don’t mess around.”
“I remember that about you. Some things never change.”
“Apparently.” I lean forward. “So, is it working? ”
Her lips curl. “That depends. What am I in for?”
“Dinner. Wine. Me.” I pause. “Dessert’s negotiable.”
She lifts her glass of water, hiding her grin behind the rim. “You’re definitely not subtle.”
“Never claimed to be.” I pick up my menu. “But I’m very effective.”
She hums. “We’ll see about that.”
Our server arrives a few minutes later and we order right away. She takes our menus before leaving, and as Landyn hands hers over, her foot brushes mine underneath the table.
My eyes meet hers. “You playing footsie, Sinclair?”
She shrugs, all innocence. “Small table.”
“Sure.” I wink.
“Is that why you chose this place? For its close quarters? You always did do your research. Take a look if you want—I can barely cross my legs without my foot ending up in your lap.”
I arch a brow. “I’m not opposed to that. And believe me, I’ve been looking at your legs since we got here.”
She takes a slow sip of wine, which does nothing to hide the fact that her cheeks are suddenly flushed. “I thought you were always more of an eyes guy.”
“I’m a you guy.”
That gets her. She presses her lips together like she’s trying not to smile, but it slips out anyway. And I swear to God, that smile? I’d burn this place down for it.
“You’ve gotten better at this.”
“At what?” I ask, taking note of the way she’s leaned toward me, the way her eyes are locked on mine.
“The flirting. The teasing. The…” she gestures at me with a little wave of her fingers, “all of this. ”
“I’ve had a lot of time, thinking about what I’d do if I ever saw you again.”
She tilts her head, one finger slowly circling the rim of her wine glass. “And?”
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see. I’m still deciding which part to act on first.”
“Start with dessert,” she says, smirking. “Then we’ll talk.”
Just then, the server arrives with our food, cutting the moment short.
Landyn settles back into her seat like this isn’t the most sexually charged meal I’ve had in my life.
Her bare leg brushes mine under the table again, and I don’t move.
I want her to feel me. Want her to know I’m right here, watching her, thinking about how that mouth of hers looks around a fork.
She takes another delicate bite of her salmon, pausing when she catches me staring at her.
“What’s that look for?” she asks suspiciously.
I shrug. “Didn’t peg you for the refined type. You’re cutting that fish like we’re at a Michelin-starred restaurant. No offense to Wave and Warf.”
She lifts her chin. “I have layers.”
“You definitely do.” I spear a bite of my steak, lean forward, and offer it across the table. “You need to try this.”
Her eyes narrow playfully. “I thought you don’t share?”
“Just say ah , June.”
She rolls her eyes but opens her mouth. Slowly. Deliberately, and when she leans in and wraps her lips around the bite, I swear every muscle in my body locks up.
She hums as she chews, her eyes briefly closing. “Mmm. That’s so good.”
And just like that, my cock gets hard.
We go back to eating—well, she does. I mostly just sit here and try to pretend that I’m not three seconds from pulling her over the table and tasting that damn wine off her lips. She wipes the corner of her mouth with a napkin, eyes flashing. “You’re quiet.”
“Just working on my self-control.”
She leans back, slow and confident. “And how’s that going?”
I rest my forearm on the table, hand close to hers, not touching. “Ask me in an hour.”
She bites her lip, and for once, she doesn’t respond with a quick comeback. She just looks at me like she wants the same thing I do and it’s not just dinner.
Dinner winds down, but the energy between us doesn’t.
She finishes her wine with one last sip, tipping her head to drain the last of the glass, and I’m mesmerized watching the smooth column of her neck.
Her dress has ridden up just enough to show more of her thigh than is fair, and I’ve given up pretending I’m not looking.
The server arrives with our bill, and it’s not a second too soon for me. I pay for the meal, then stand and offer my hand to Landyn. She hesitates for just a second but then slides her palm into mine.
“Dinner was delicious. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
The noise from the restaurant spills out behind us as I push the door open.
It’s dark now, and the night is cool and quiet.
The restaurant is tucked away from the regular tourist haunts, so the street is deserted as we walk back to my car.
We don’t talk. We don’t need to. Her fingers are still laced through mine and her hip brushes against me.
Then again. When we reach the passenger side, I open the door for her, but she doesn’t get in right away.
She just looks up at me with heat in her chocolate eyes as the air between us grows thicker.
“Where are we going?” she asks, voice soft.
I step closer, entering her space without touching her.
“My place,” I say simply. “Unless you want to end the night here.”
She doesn’t answer right away, but she doesn’t need to when I notice the way her eyes drop to my mouth and stay there for a moment. Then she nods. “That sounds perfect.”
She settles into the passenger seat of my Porsche like she belongs there, and I close the door, round the hood, and climb in beside her. Silence stretches out between us as I start the engine, it feels loaded, heavy with anticipation.
The car hums low as I shift into gear, hand brushing the gearstick just inches from her thigh. She doesn’t move away. If anything, she shifts closer.
I glance at her, noticing the way she’s twirling the ring on her index finger. “You nervous?”
She turns her head slowly, deliberately. “Are you?”
I reach for her hand, lacing her fingers between mine, resting them against her thigh. “No. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.”
A beat passes, then the corners of her lips tip up.
She squeezes my hand in hers and I press the gas pedal a little harder.
By the time I pull into the driveway, I’m gripping the wheel with one hand like it’s the only thing keeping me in control.
I throw the car in park, cut the engine, and turn to her.
“You sure?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
Her lips part and she says the one word I’ve been waiting for. “Yes.”
I slide out of the car and walk around to her door, opening it and offering her a hand to help her out. She takes it, and I swear when her hand slips back into mine, I feel it in every single part of me.
Pushing open the front door, I place a hand on the small of her back to guide her inside. Stella barrels into the room the second we’re through the door, her nails clicking across the hardwood floor.
“Hi there, good girl.” Landyn crouches automatically, her dress sliding up her thighs, and Stella leans all her weight into her like she belongs to her. Landyn grins happily, brushing her fingers along her head.
“I think she’s your biggest fan,” I tell her, watching as she rewards Stella’s over-the-top display of affection with a belly rub.
Eventually, once she’s had her fill of attention, Stella gives a full-body shake, then trots to her bed in the kitchen, where she circles three times before flopping down with a dramatic sigh.
“She’s got a tough life,” I say, rolling my eyes, as Landyn stands and smoothes her hands over the hem of her dress. She laughs, and it’s so sweet and genuine that I feel it in my core.