Chapter 9
Nine
Her eyebrows rose, and his shoulders started to creep toward his ears when she opened her mouth.
Before she could ask any questions that would dredge those memories back up, their waiter chose that moment to appear with their meals stacked up one arm.
That impeccable timing alone had earned him a big tip.
Ciaran thought for sure that Jal could see the heat working up his neck and resisted the urge to run a finger under his collar.
But she just accepted her plate with a smile and went straight for her silverware and dug in.
Though maybe dug in was too strong a term.
She used her knife and fork properly, unlike most Americans, taking small bites, using her knife to push the food firmly onto her fork and lifting each bite carefully to her ruby red lips as if afraid that she’d ruin her dress.
By Christ, that dress.
If she’d meant for the blue dress she’d worn the first time to “kick his ass,” as she had so delightfully put it, the sight of her sweeping in like shadow and smoke , her hair tamed into an elegant twist revealing a long neck encircled by a glittering diamond, had punched him in the gut, hit him over the head, and almost brought him to his knees.
Last time, she had dressed up only because he’d told her to, and she had ultimately used it to her own advantage.
Part of him couldn’t help wondering what she intended this time.
Could he be crazy enough to think that she’d dressed up because she’d wanted to look nice for him?
The twinge in his balls gave him that answer.
At least they remembered how she had treated him, the rest of him better follow suit soon.
Ciaran looked down at his own plate and his eyebrows rose.
He had only given the menu a quick glance to confirm the cabbie’s recommendation was still on the menu, and his rudimentary Italian telling him it was some kind of seafood.
Sure enough, a dozen small clams were scattered across a plate of light-yellow risotto, A white wine sauce heavy on the parsley and chopped garlic pooled around each tasty pearl in their shell.
He plucked a clam from its shell and popped it in his mouth where it seemed to melt away, leaving a hint of garlic behind. The first bite of risotto left a burst of lemon on his tongue in an almost effervescent way. That cabbie had been spot on with the recommendation.
The waiter returned halfway through dinner to check on them and refresh their drinks.
The silence stretched endlessly between them, punctuated only by the clink of silverware on plates, a bubble of quiet in an otherwise noisy dining room.
It wasn’t very long before their plates held only a smear of sauce and empty shells.
Just as the waiter started clearing their plates, there was a buzz of a phone.
He reached for his jacket draped over the chairback as Jal reached into the clutch purse in her lap.
She raised her phone to signal that it was hers and started typing furiously, one corner of her mouth quirked up in amusement at whatever she was reading.
“Do you need to be somewhere?”
Jal glanced up and smiled. “My friends are waiting on me to join them.” But she didn’t make any move to leave.
Ciaran leaned back in his chair and covered an irrational wave of relief with a sip of whisky.
Her phone buzzed again, and she laughed out loud at whatever was on screen.
The sound went straight to his gut.
She covered her mouth with her hand, an adorable flush coming to her cheeks when the party at the table beside them glanced their way.
She typed out a rapid response and tucked the phone away again.
“Sorry about that,” she said as she reached for her half-empty glass of wine.
She caught his eye over the rim of the glass, her eyes still twinkling.
He made an inquiring noise in his throat and raised an eyebrow.
Her smile turned coy. “Woman of mystery, remember?”
“Fair enough,” Ciaran replied with a chuckle. “You’ll have to tell me about whatever it was sometime.”
The noise she made in response could have been an agreement or non-committal. Their eyes met and held, and it was like an electric current passed through his body, stealing his words.
“Do you want dessert or another drink?” The waiter appeared just as his hand started inching across the table towards hers. He jerked it back and the sensation fizzled out. This man was either a savior or the worst wingman ever.
She picked up her glass, looked down at the sip remaining and cocked an eyebrow at him. For a moment, he couldn’t move or think. Their first time here, she couldn’t get out of there fast enough, and now she was leaving it up to him?
He glanced at his watch, though the fact that it was almost ten p.m. had about as much influence on him as two a.m. or noon would. “Fancy the tiramisu?”
Jal tipped her head slightly as she considered, the movement landed a second punch low in the gut, and then nodded.
“Two tiramisu, please.” Ciaran said, suppressing the urge to shift in his chair.
“One is fine,” Jal responded quickly. “Two spoons.”
The waiter glanced at Ciaran for confirmation, and he nodded woodenly.
The waiter tucked his little handheld machine back in the pocket of his apron and went to check on other tables.
Jal pushed her seat back and tucked her purse under her arm.
“While we’re waiting, I’m just going to go to the restroom.
” They rose together and the corners of her mouth tightened, but it was gone so quickly he wasn’t sure if it was a cautious grimace or a small smile. “I’ll be right back.”
A cool breeze from an air vent in the hallway landed on her heated skin and made her shiver as she pushed open the heavy restroom door.
The room inside was also cool, a welcome reprieve from the fugue of the dining room and its occupants.
She used the facilities and studied her reflection as she washed her hands.
Her hair and makeup were still in very good shape, and there was a bit of color in her cheeks.
She dried her hands on a towel and then ran it under the water and had just pressed it to the side of her neck when the bathroom door opened, and Elena and Lexi clattered in, clutching each other and giggling.
Elena had clearly gone home after work because she was wearing a cobalt blue top that bared a narrow strip of tan skin above a fitted white skirt.
Her hair was down in a cascade of cinnamon streaked ringlets and her makeup highlighted her already stunning features.
The clothes were modest by her usual clubbing standards, but her sky-high heels were plenty scandalous for an upscale restaurant like Amicetto.
She released Lexi when she caught sight of Jal and let out an appreciative whistle. “My, my, my… I haven’t seen you this dolled up in years.“ She perched a hip on the countertop next to Jal and threw a wink over her shoulder. “Nice work, Lex.”
Lexi ducked her chin, pink coloring her cheeks.
She turned back to Jal and waggled her eyebrows. “And how’s your date going with the ‘thieving asshole?’” she asked. “That is what you called him, right?”
“I never called him that.” Jal protested half-heartedly, though the name had certainly crossed her mind a time or two.
“Oh yeah, you’re right,” she waved a hand in the air between them, then pointed to herself. “That was me.”
Lexi chuckled as she stepped up to the mirror and smoothed the line of her bottom lip.
“Well?” Elena asked, impatiently.
Jal dabbed at her neck but the towel wasn’t as cool as it had been. Or her skin was suddenly warmer. “It’s going just fine,” Jal replied. She didn’t bother correcting her friends that this dinner was more of an apology than anything. Probably because she would be lying if she did.
“If you need an SOS call, just let me know.”
Jal laughed. “Lexi tried that already,” she replied and nudged her with a hip. “Fluffy McFluffpants is wandering the hall? Really? I don’t even have a cat let alone one with such a ridiculous name.”
Elena threw back her head and howled with laughter. “You didn’t tell me that’s what you said!”
Lexi made eye contact with Jal in the mirror and grinned as she continued to adjust the pins in her hair.
Jal tossed the towel in the basket and headed for the door.
“I need to get back before Ciaran thinks I’ve run off again.
” Her tone had been light but, inside, there was a part of her that regretted letting panic take over the first time.
Despite the reason they had come together, she found that she was eager to get back to the table.
“We’ll be at the bar if you need us.”
Jal took a step out into the small hallway and froze. She put a hand to her lips and realized why her cheeks felt so tight. There was a broad smile on her face.
The door closed behind her and almost immediately opened again.
Elena drew up short so she didn’t crash into her, but Lexi was not paying as close attention and sent Elena stumbling into her after all.
They clutched at each other, wobbling on their heels until Jal caught her balance with a hand on the wall, and Elena was able to steady herself.
The smile still plastered on her face, if anything, was even bigger.
Elena released her and glanced meaningfully over her shoulder at Lexi. The two women exchanged a quick, pleased look before Elena shooed Jal back into the restaurant. Clutching each other and laughing, her friends headed back to the bar area.
Jal laughed with them, even as the sound of theirs faded into the din clustered around the bar. She quickly checked her hair and dress before returning to their table. Ciaran rose to his feet as she approached and helped her back into her chair.