Chapter 2
HELL’S HOTTEST PEPPERS.
DARCY
A twelve out of ten.
A complete knockout.
The woman who just agreed to have dinner with me is completely out of my league. Elizabeth. The name suits her. She’s a classic beauty, but also something… more. I can’t put my finger on it yet.
Apparently, shooting my shot was the right call when I saw her looking for an escape from whatever hell she was enduring at the bar.
I clocked her the moment I sat down to wait for a table, and when she turned away from the woman next to her for the third time, I requested that my table for one be changed to a double.
I can’t believe my fucking luck, and I hope she can’t feel the tremble of my hand on her back. As soon as we reach our table, the host moves to pull out her chair, but when I glare at him, he casually clears his throat and mumbles something about our server being with us shortly.
As I push Elizabeth’s chair in, her scent floats up. It’s entirely unexpected, the fruity, sweet aroma, but it instantly makes me smile. She smells like summer.
Across from me, she watches with pursed lips and curious eyes, our menus untouched. “Where are you from?”
I laugh at the question, which makes her shoulders relax and her lips turn up into a soft smile.
“Shit. What gave me away? Do I have Toronto stamped on my forehead, or something?” I ask, not at all surprised she knows I’m not from here since people in Halifax seem to have some sort of outsider radar no one can see.
“We’re not having dinner. We’re having supper,” she responds matter-of-factly, still smiling. “I know other provinces tend to use both, but out here, it’s supper. Always.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Of course. How could I forget? Just like here, people sit on a coach, not a couch, and live in a hoase not a house, right?” Her eyebrows lift, and she eyes me unblinkingly.
“Shit,” I mutter. “Sorry, is that like completely offensive? I swear I didn’t mean it to be.
I think it’s interesting, dialects changing from one province to another. ”
Just as I’m about to start sweating, her lips curve into the widest smile I’ve seen from her so far, and she laughs. It’s a husky sound at first that morphs into something melodic. She reaches for her menu while I remain still, watching her nose crinkling and her eyes sparkling.
“You’re funny, Peter,” she says, still laughing and meeting my eyes.
“And you’re right.” She winks at me before looking down at her now-open menu, not clarifying whether I’m right about the pronunciations or the fact that what I said was offensive.
I feel equal parts relieved and turned on at her response.
She’s easy to talk to, that much is already clear.
“And you, Elizabeth, are you from here?”
“Not Halifax specifically, no. Nova Scotia, yes. I live about an hour away. I was here for a work thing and made a long weekend out of it.” She shrugs, closing her menu and setting it next to her.
Our server arrives then, pouring us water and introducing himself as Jace.
When he asks what we’d like to drink, I wait for Elizabeth to go first.
“I’d love a Caesar, please.”
Jace smiles politely, turning to me. “I’ll have the same,” I respond, though I don’t know why, because I do not do spicy, and there’s a good chance for that with this drink. Whatever. Maybe it won’t be that bad.
My eyes roam over the menu, in search of anything that sounds remotely appetizing. I haven’t felt hungry lately. Not really. I don’t know whether it’s the meds or the general weight that always seems to settle deep in my gut, but eating doesn’t appeal to me these days.
“Literally any pasta is amazing here, but so is the salmon.” My dinner companion breaks the silence, and I close my menu. Fish sounds great.
“Salmon it is, then. What are you having?”
“Steak frites. It’s what I always get.” She takes a sip of her water, eyes not leaving mine over the rim of her glass.
“I only know what the other dishes taste like because whenever I come here with my best friend, she tries something new and I always have a bite. I, on the other hand, found what I like, so now it’s all I get. ”
“Why mess with something good, right?” I ask
“Exactly.” She lifts a hand before smacking it down on her lap. “You get it.”
When Jace comes back with our drinks, she takes a long pull of hers, humming as she licks her lips. It is entirely innocent yet indecent.
She nods to my untouched glass, and I take a sip from the rim, nearly spitting out the small amount of Clamato, vodka, and hell’s hottest peppers when I cough ungracefully into my forearm.
My eyes begin to water, and any chance I might have had with the beautiful woman across from me evaporates into the atmosphere.
When my vision clears, I find her narrow-eyed, with a smirk tugging at her pretty pink lips.
“You don’t like spicy things, eh?” She giggles, and I wonder if I can remain hopeful that our time won’t be cut short due to how incredibly uncool I seem to be.
“I have no fucking clue why I ordered the same drink as you. I can hardly handle barbecue sauce if it has even a hint of spice in it.” I let the truth come out because it’s too late to pretend this was a fluke. There’s no way I can have another sip of this.
“Here.” She motions to my glass, and I push it across the table so she can reach it. And that’s when all the air leaves my lungs, because Elizabeth runs her tongue along the rim, licking the seasoned salt there.
“The real spicy stuff is on the rim. It’s their signature on this drink, since they make the salt in-house. You should be able to drink it now.” She hands me back my glass, and our fingers brush, her smile widening a fraction.
I spin the glass until the spot she just had her tongue on faces me and take another sip. I don’t nearly die this time, which I consider a win. The real prize, however, is the delight on Elizabeth’s face when I say, “Yep. That is much better. Thank you.”
Our server comes back to take our orders before she can respond to my cheeky, loaded statement. Once he’s gone again, she sits back in her chair, eyes assessing the guy who spontaneously got a dinner date with the hottest woman in this city. I’m glad I get to be that guy.
“So,” she starts, “how did you know I was struggling back there?” Her long, lean arm reaches for her drink while she waits for my answer.
I shrug, willing my mouth to cooperate, rather than admit I had been watching her closely.
“Your body language said it all. You seemed disinterested, looking around the place, leaning away from the person next to you. I’m pretty sure at one point, you closed your eyes long enough that it could be considered a nap. ”
Well, shit. So much for not giving away that I was staring.
Her response is a hearty laugh. “You saw that, eh? Damn. I know I wasn’t being subtle, but she couldn’t take a hint. Anyway, thank you for noticing and getting me out of there.”
I nod in response, ready to ask more about her life, what she does, all the typical first date, get-to-know-you stuff, but she beats me to it. “Were you going to eat alone before you swooped in to save the night?”
“Sure was. So I should be thanking you.”
“Well, Peter, don’t thank me yet. You should know I was on a mission to get laid tonight.
More specifically, I was planning to sleep with a woman, but I’m open to changing that plan for the right man.
” Her shoulders lift, causing her straight blonde hair to bounce on her shoulders, and all I can do is grin at this mystical creature in front of me.
“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” I sense this is an understatement of monumental proportions.
“Oh, you have no idea.” Her knowing grin matches mine, and we stare at each other, all wide smiles for several seconds before she licks her bottom lip. “Where are you staying, Pete?”
Pete. I’ve never loved being called that unless it was by Leo, who is practically my brother, or my parents.
“Right upstairs. What about you, Lizzie?” I taunt her with the nickname, and she scrunches her nose adorably.
“Same. How long are you in town for?” She wastes no time getting to the point.
“Not sure yet. I’m booked here until Monday, though.
” I don’t bother lying. I bought a one-way ticket, not knowing if I’d last twenty-four hours or twenty-four days away from my desk and the life that’s become simultaneously too much and not enough for me over the past couple of months.
Or maybe it’s been longer than that and I haven’t noticed.
I don’t dwell on the momentary doom settling in the pit of my stomach, however, because Elizabeth’s eyes sparkle as they roam over every inch of my body she can see, pausing on my left hand where she’ll find no trace of a ring.
“Well then,” she starts with sass, “the night just got a little more interesting, didn’t it? ”