Page 27 of Wild Thing
Pablo’s was a hole in the wall, dimly lit, moody and hella sexy. It was one of those restaurants where diners can sit at the bar, and that’s where we were seated since our table wasn’t quite ready. Sitting next to each other, so close that our thighs grazed, we were immediately handed the wine list.
Brax asked if I wanted to select the wine, but I declined, replying that this dinner was his idea, so the decisions were all on him.
He ordered an Italian bottle of Pinot Noir, and I was quietly impressed with the selection. I wondered where he had acquired his wine knowledge.
“So," Brax started with a slight grin. "You look good tonight.” My coat was on, but it was open, showing off the tight outfit underneath. I had one leg crossed over the other, the position hitching my skirt up high, baring my mid thigh.
I looked up at him through my eyelashes. I could play the part of a needy, doe-eyed woman for one second. “Only good?”
A mischievous glint sparkled in those midnight eyes. “You know you look sexy.”
He was right. I did know that.
The corners of Brax’s lips twitched upwards. His smile lingered, almost secretive. As if he knew something I didn’t.
The waiter returned with the bottle, asking if we wanted to taste it first. We both shook our heads indicating for him to pour the glasses.
Soft light illuminated Brax’s face and that vicious looking throat tattoo. I fantasized about what his reaction would be if I leaned over and dragged my tongue down his throat.
Proposing a toast, he pulled me out of my fantasy.
“To what?”
He paused, pondering. “To reconnecting with an old friend.”
He raised his glass, but I didn't lift mine to his. “We were never friends, Brax.”
“Okay then… To making up for lost time.”
I tilted my head to the side. I decided I could toast to that. We clinked glasses, each taking a sip as we looked at each other.
His ocean eyes were my second favorite part of him. I wanted to drown in them, over and over again.
My stomach had been in knots since we had arrived. Twisting and tightening as I tried to remain cool, despite feeling like a teenager on a first date. There were a million questions I wanted to ask him, yet I couldn’t verbalize one.
Thank god for the liquid courage the Pinot provided.
We made small talk, mostly about our day, before a waiter arrived and escorted us to our table in the very back corner. It didn’t get more romantic, or private, than that.
I wondered if Brax chose this restaurant for that very reason. So no prying eyes could see us together.
Pulling out my chair, Brax offered to take my coat, which I shrugged off and passed to him. As he draped it over the back of my chair, I noticed he stole a quick glance at my chest. My nipples were hard and even harder to ignore.
“Jesus, Dyl, you’ll poke someone’s eyes out with those things.”
Mission accomplished.
***
Once seated, we quickly found our rhythm of conversation, mainly centered around our careers. I was dying to know how Brax ended up as the sole owner of one of the biggest luxury builders in Grey’s Forest.
“So how did you end up owning Patch and Sons?”
“After you left me––”
“Stop. I didn’tleaveyou.”
“Yes, you did. You left for London.”
