Chapter 15
Tenny
As I climb the stairs to Alex’s hotel floor two at a time, my heartbeat thuds in my ears.
I’m more amped up than I was for my first game in the majors.
Equal parts excitement and panic sprint through my veins.
Logistically, I know that I’m a catch and any woman would be happy to date me… blah, blah, blah.
Those are the well-intentioned things my sisters would say to settle my nerves.
But they’re also used to my…my extra-ness.
Heck, Arizona even profits off it with her social media account.
I’ve always had the need to be liked, but I want to be understood by Alex.
If that means I need to subdue some of my tendencies for her to stick around long enough to really get to know me, so be it.
I’m glad I texted the guys earlier when I’d been spiraling about what to do tonight.
It didn’t feel right, buying out all those places last minute.
It would mean displacing everyone who was looking forward to enjoying their Friday night.
What if there’s another sucker like me, standing outside his date’s door with his hands shaking, looking forward to nothing more than taking her bowling?
There’s no way I wanted to ruin that guy’s night.
My knuckles rap the door as I force myself to take a deep breath.
When Alex answers and her smile instantly drops, my heart falls three stories. “I didn’t realize we were getting dressed up.”
She glances down at her cute t-shirt dress and sneakers, frowning.
“I can fix it.” I tug off my suit jacket, tossing it on the floor. My fingers fly over the vest buttons, halfway down when Alex splays her hands over mine.
“Tenny, no.” She steps so close I catch her calming eucalyptus scent. “Don’t change. You look—” Her gaze slides over my open collar and down my chest as a swallow bobs her throat. “Can you put your jacket back on?”
“You’re sure?”
She nods, gaze fixed on where my necklace rests over my collarbones.
“Yes, um—” Her eyes finally find mine as she licks her lips. “Yes, please.”
There’s something about the way she says please that sends crackling electricity running backward through my body. I’m two seconds from crashing my mouth over hers when Mags comes out of the bathroom in a cozy lounge set.
“Don’t you look handsome.”
“Thank you,” I say, not looking away from Alex.
We’re stuck in another one of those eye-contact contests, but unlike when Alex glares at me, her gaze slowly hazes over. My fingers twitch beneath hers.
“Give Alex a minute to put on another dress,” Mags says.
“Yes.” She backs away in a daze before giving her head a little shake. “One sec.”
Then the door slams, and the absolute chaos, audible from the hallway, makes my entire day. The sounds of someone sprinting around like a maniac is peppered with fragments of hushed conversation.
Shoes hit the wall—or maybe the back of the door?—as Alex whispers, “I am hurrying.”
There’s more shuffling before she groans. “Please don’t use the term ‘smokeshow.’ You’re nearly seventy.”
At this point, Mags doesn’t even attempt to lower her voice. “My vision is still twenty-twenty. Don’t forget you got those good genes from me.”
There’s hopping, and then a crash of some sort, and a murmured, “Sonofabeesting, that hurt.”
“Maybe I should offer him a water since you’re—”
“No!” Then a whispered, “Just wait.”
I relax against the wall with the biggest grin on my face, nodding to a middle-aged guy who’s carrying a toddler to their room. Apparently, I’m not alone in being excited for this supposedly fake date.
When Alex opens the door a few moments later, in a slinky dress the color of the night sky, I nearly swallow my tongue.
It has a high neckline and cascades down to her exposed toes, but the silky fabric fits her like a second skin.
I stand straight, tugging at my cuffs before slipping my fingers through my hair.
“You—” I blow out a breath. “Wow.”
Alex’s smug smile graces her lips as she steps over the threshold in black slingback heels. “Will this work?”
My hand rubs my jaw as I take her in again. “That will absolutely work.”
Mags appears in the doorway, handing Alex a small black purse. “You kids have fun.”
“Thanks, Mags.” I can’t help myself; I swallow her into a hug.
I know I’m supposed to be keeping things calm, or chill, or low-key, or whatever the opposite of Too much is, but I’m bursting with gratitude for this sweet woman for caring about her granddaughter so much that Alex invented a fake boyfriend—without which, I’d never have this opportunity to take Alex out to dinner.
Mags rubs my back before releasing me.
“Smells good too,” she tells Alex.
“Grandma!”
She throws her hands up. “Oh, I’m in trouble now. I got called by my proper title.”
I chuckle as Alex shoots daggers at an unashamed Mags.
Extending my elbow to Alex, I give Mags a parting smile. “Thanks for letting me borrow her tonight.”
The tension crackling between us on the elevator, as I help her into my truck, and while I drive us to the restaurant feels capable of shutting down the power grid.
We chat amiably the whole time—mostly about today’s game and how the relief players did, but I seem incapable of keeping my eyes on the road.
Whenever I steal a furtive glance, Alex’s gaze is fixed on my hands, or throat, or chest. As much as I’m glad I reined in the flood of over-the-top plans for tonight, clearly, a three-piece suit is never a bad idea.
Alex’s brow quirks when we forgo the valet stand, continuing around the back of the restaurant, before she releases a low hum of understanding.
“Right. We can’t be seen together.”
I try—and fail—not to feel overjoyed by her disappointed tone.
My grin feels gargantuan as I back into a parking spot. “Our table will be even better than the ones in the dining room. You’ll see.”
I’ve never eaten on the private terrace that this restaurant has tucked away for celebrities, but I’ve heard about it.
When Kai and Mallory started dating after she broke up with a blockbuster action star, he reserved this table if Mallory was in the mood to avoid the paparazzi—which was almost never.
Leading Alex to the kitchen door, I give it a shave-and-a-haircut knock.
A young man in chef’s whites lets us in before calling to a woman in a sleek navy pantsuit over the din of the bustling kitchen. “Your VIPs are here.”
She glides over, extending her hand. “Tenny, so glad to meet you in person.” After a hearty shake, she offers her hand to Alex. “I’m Katherine, the manager of Sol & Saffron. Let me show you to your table.”
Alex gives me a quizzical glance as we’re directed to a back stairwell off the kitchen.
After climbing three stories, we’re led onto a breathtaking patio surrounded by lush planters full of bright California poppies mixed with purple Mexican petunias.
Manicured pink bougainvillea vines cover trellises on the nearby walls.
The space feels intimate yet expansive with the views of the nearby mountain range.
And with its position outset and above the dining room and outdoor seating below us, it’s completely private.
“It can get chilly up here after the sun sets, so I’ve set a cashmere throw over the back of your chair for later.” Katherine smiles warmly at Alex. “We can also bring out gas heaters.”
“This should be fine. Thank you,” she says.
Alex forgets to glare at me as I pull out her chair, enraptured in the view of the mountains and the city beyond. With tiny wisps of clouds accenting the gently pinking sky and the warmth of the day still clinging to the dry desert air, I couldn’t have asked for better weather for our date.
“I’m told it only gets better once the skyline starts to glow,” I say after we’re left to peruse our menus.
Alex finally pulls her gaze away from the view. “You’ve never been here before.”
“Nope.” I take a sip from my short water glass.
She twists her lips to the side in a gesture I’m becoming familiar with.
“What is it?”
“What do you mean?”
I nod toward her gorgeous lips. “You always scrunch up your mouth when you’re holding your tongue.”
When she holds absolutely still, eyes slowly widening, I laugh. “It can’t be that bad.”
Alex ducks her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “This is all really nice, Tenny, and I’d rather—”
“I’d rather us be able to have honest conversations with each other. Don’t get me wrong, I like the teasing and the bickering—”
“We don’t bicker.”
“Yes, we do.”
“No, we don’t.”
“We’re bickering right now,” I say through a chuckle.
Alex narrows her eyes before we’re interrupted by our server, notifying us of the meal and drink specials.
“Would you be okay with the tasting menu?” I ask Alex.
Her shoulders settle. “That would be great.”
Our server takes our menus. “Would you like to add the wine pairings?”
“Not for me, thanks.” I glance at Alex who’s surveying me again but this time with that analytical focus.
“No, thank you,” she tells the server.
Once alone, Alex fingers the condensation on her water glass. “You don’t drink?”
“Not in season.”
“What about off season?”
A short breath punches from me. I was the one running my mouth about honesty, so I might as well lead by example.
“Not then either.”
The slight twitch at the corner of her lips tells me she got the nugget she was digging for.
“Ask me why, Alex. I know you want to.”
“Why?” When she unabashedly leans her elbows on the table and sets her chin on her thumbs, I laugh.
I relax back in my chair, more comfortable than I probably should be bringing up this topic. “It’s just tied in my mind with recklessness and bad choices. I prefer to stay clearheaded.”
“Your own or someone else’s bad choices?”
Man, leave it to Alex to cut right to the bone.
“My dad’s.”
She nods, sitting up when the amuse-bouche is presented—a mini chile-lime shrimp ceviche in a tiny tortilla cup.
“Wow,” she says once we’re alone again. “This is incredible.”
I swallow the delicious mouthful. “Kai has never led me astray. He’s quite the foodie.”
As we start on the soup course—a mouthwatering roasted carrot and saffron velouté with a hint of cardamom—we settle into easier topics.
Her sister’s tormenting job at the law office.
My sister’s ability to get me to do any social media dance or skit with little prompting.
We even gossip about a few mutually disliked players from other teams.
I desperately want to bring up the purple elephant in the room but remember how Alex shut down the topic of our mutual past in the parking lot weeks ago.
Instead, I bide my time, grinning at her happy food dance as we enjoy a baby green salad with roasted cactus pads, seared scallops with a masala beurre blanc, and saffron-inspired risotto with roasted vegetables.
When Rhett suggested I focus on Alex, one post-dinner idea trumped all the rest—surfing.
Luckily for me, they just opened a surf wave park not far from here, which should be closing right about now. We’ll have private access to the man-made ocean without displacing anyone, and Alex can surf to her heart’s content beneath a blanket of stars.
I hide my smile behind my fist, imagining the delighted look on Alex’s face when I surprise her after dinner.