Chapter 9
IVY
Before I got wrapped up in helping Lorna open The Color Loft, I’d been a social butterfly. I went out often—dinners with friends, family nights, and even to a few clubs after turning twenty-one—but this felt different. Probably because Saxon made my pulse race in a way I’d never experienced before.
“It’s just a date,” I whispered to myself when he knocked on the door.
Smoothing my hands down my skirt, I padded across my living room to open it.
His gaze swept over me, lingering just long enough to make my stomach flutter. “Damn, you’re gorgeous.”
In black slacks and a dark gray button-down only partially covered by his black wool coat, he was dressier than I’d ever seen him. “You clean up quite nicely yourself.”
He shook his head with a chuckle while I grabbed my purse and locked the door. “It’s the hair, right? The stylist who cut it did a kick-ass job.”
I flashed him a teasing smile. “You should keep her around. A great stylist is worth her weight in gold.”
“This one definitely is.” He settled his palm on my lower back, the heat of his touch practically burning through the coat I’d shrugged on over my outfit. “And I sure as fuck plan to keep you close.”
A shiver of awareness raced up my spine at the determination in his tone. “I like the sound of that.”
“Good.”
When we made it down to his SUV, Saxon opened the passenger door for me.
“Where are we headed?” I asked as I slid into the seat.
I tried not to think about everything we’d done in the driver’s seat last night, or I’d be red as a tomato.
He waited until he had snapped his belt on and started the engine to answer. “You’ll see.”
“A surprise, huh?” I asked, sneaking a glance at him.
“That depends…do you like them?”
I laughed softly and teased, “Only the good ones.”
He more than met the challenge when he pulled up in front of an intimate restaurant tucked on a quiet street with brick walls, low lighting, and the soft hum of jazz.
I tilted my head back to smile up at Saxon as he pushed my chair in. “You chose well.”
He sat down next to me instead of across the table, his knee brushing against mine. “Raiden recommended the place. He said they have the best pork chops in the city, and you mentioned the other day how that’s your mom’s best dish. Figured you could see how they measure up.”
I was touched by how he not only remembered something small I’d shared with him but also factored it into where to take me for our first date. “I’m impressed.”
That earned me another rare grin that I added to the growing tally that was stacking up during our time together. “You might want to save the compliments until we see if Raiden was right about the food.”
“Probably the right call,” I agreed.
“I make a lot of them.” His smile widened. “Like driving you home from work instead of letting you take the train.”
I snorted, shaking my head. “Cocky much?”
“Confident,” he corrected, his hazel eyes glinting with amusement.
After the server took our order—the pork chops for me and a steak for Saxon—I leaned my chin on my hand and studied him.
“You know, I used to go out a lot more before we opened the salon. Now I barely see daylight. Cole talked me into helping Lorna, and I swear I work more hours than I ever did before.”
He looked intrigued. “You regret it?”
“Not even a little,” I admitted with a soft laugh.
“It’s exhausting, but I love it. The vibe is different from the salon we used to work at, more relaxed.
We can take our time with our clients, and they walk out feeling like their best selves.
Reminds me more of how my mom let me brush and style her hair when I was little. It’s worth every sore muscle.”
His expression softened. “You make people feel good about themselves. That’s rare.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” I teased.
He shook his head. “Not flattery. Just a fact.”
His compliment made heat crawl up my neck. I looked down at my napkin, suddenly fascinated by the stitching.
To distract myself, I asked, “What about you? How did you first get into football?”
He nodded once. “Started playing flag when I was four. My dad coached me, and I never wanted to leave the field. Most of my best memories are from being out there with him on the sideline, all the way through high school.”
“Guess I was more right than I realized when I said he must be proud of you.”
“Always.” His gaze met mine again, steady and sure.
The server dropped off our meals, and for a while, we just ate, the soft clink of silverware filling the silence. I wasn’t sure what to say next, but it turned out I didn’t have to. Saxon set down his fork and said quietly, “Talking to you is easy.”
I appreciated how he was opening up to me when he wasn’t a big talker with other people. His sincerity disarmed me, and I smiled. “I’m glad.”
After dinner, he walked me back to his SUV, his hand resting lightly at the small of my back. The touch was protective and sent a rush of awareness up my spine.
When we reached my building later, he walked me to my apartment, his thumb brushing over my knuckles before he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was long and deep, leaving me dizzy and craving more.
“Want to come in?”
He drew back and shook his head. “After last night, I think this is the safest place to say good night.”
“So you’re being a gentleman?”
“It’s only our first date, sunshine.” He swatted my butt. “Get inside before I do something you’re not ready for.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, surprised to find that I wasn’t sure he was right about me not being ready. He was the first guy I’d ever really kissed, and we’d barely known each other a week, but I found myself wanting more.
“Tomorrow. Same time.”
I nodded, dazed. “Okay.”
Two dinners in a row, and we already had a rhythm. Easy conversation threaded with quiet intensity that made it hard to remember we were still getting to know each other.
We ended up at a different spot this time—a cozy bistro with tiny candles on the tables and an indulgent dessert menu I couldn’t resist.
“You going to order cake again tonight?” he teased, a gleam of humor lighting his hazel eyes.
“Don’t judge me,” I huffed. “Dessert is an essential food group.”
His mouth tilted into that slow, almost smile I’d learned to look for. “I didn’t say I was judging. Just wondering if I should start with the dessert menu next time since it’s clearly your favorite part of the meal.”
“Next time?”
His gaze held mine. “You planning on saying no?”
I wasn’t, and we both knew it.
Between bites of cake, I realized how easy it was to talk to Saxon when he was relaxed.
His sense of humor was dry and understated.
Half the time, his jokes were so deadpan that they only clicked in my head a few beats later, leaving me laughing long after he’d moved on.
And every time I did, I caught him watching me like he couldn’t help himself, his expression unreadable except for the quiet heat simmering just beneath the surface.
By the time we pulled up in front of my apartment again, that warmth had built into something electric.
When we reached my apartment door, I turned to say good night, and the look in his eyes stole my breath. He reached out, catching my wrist as I started to fish for my keys. “Not yet.”
Then he closed the gap between us until his body brushed mine, his cedar and spice scent wrapping around me. His hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as he crowded me against the doorframe and devoured my mouth.
The kiss was deep, hungry, and impossible to resist. My fingers fisted the ends of his scarf as his tongue brushed against mine, scattering my senses.
When he finally pulled back, his lips hovered over mine, and his breath was warm. “Get inside, sunshine. I’m not gonna do something you’re not ready for, no matter how tempting you are.”
I was still dazed when he swatted my ass lightly and stepped back with a satisfied smirk.
My laugh came out shaky, but my grin didn’t fade as I fumbled for my keys.
If he only knew how ready I was.