Wherever It Leads(9)

The table is a small, dark wooden circle with numerous candles in varied sizes sitting in the center. It’s beautiful and romantic and so elegant that I have to pinch myself to believe it’s for me.

He sits as a knock raps on the door. A few seconds later, two impeccably-dressed servers slip inside. With just a nod, they place heated trays in front of us and fill our glasses with a deep red wine. I watch with amazement at their efficiency. They are almost gone before Fenton calls out.

“I’ll call if we need anything else,” he says.

The one girl turns and looks at Fenton. She does a quick read of his features before nodding. “Yes, sir.” And then they’re gone.

He lifts the lid in front of him and I follow suit. A small cut of steak, a lobster tail, and steamed vegetables are artfully arranged on a plate.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I ordered a variety,” he says.

“It looks fabulous.”

I watch him slice his steak, the way his entire body moves captivating me. He’s so intentional with everything he does. And when he looks up at me, I feel the same intent. He doesn’t just glance at you, he sees you. You know it. You feel it. It’s impossible not to acknowledge it.

I’m caught in the moment and am grateful when he breaks the silence.

“Did you have a good rest of your day?”

“I did,” I say, finding my footing. “Right after I made sure you didn’t tamper with anything in my phone.”

His hands pause mid-air until he realizes I’m joking. “Funny.”

“I wasn’t entirely kidding,” I laugh.

“Brynne, I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Unless, of course, you wanted me to.”

I gasp. My jaw hangs open for a split second before I can recover.

Fenton grins, a twinkle in his eye. “I’m only teasing. But I will admit to looking at a few of your photographs. It was only so I could identify you. Well, that was the reason at first. And then I realized how beautiful you are.”

“Thank you,” I say, still getting my wits about me. He’s throwing so much my way—compliments, overtones, insinuations—that it’s hard to stay focused. Even in the chaos, I feel a smile stretching across my cheeks. “I suppose I can live with that.”

“You did change your password, right?”

I bite my lip.

“For the love of God, change it. Or just hand it here and I’ll change it for you.” He quirks a brow and I can’t help but giggle.

“I bet you’d love that.”

“I can’t say I’d hate it,” he laughs. “But in all seriousness, do it. You don’t want some random person breaking into your information.”

“Someone random like . . . you?”

“I’m not a random person.” He watches my brows shoot to the ceiling and sighs. “Okay, I am kind of random in this situation. But I’m a responsible, trustworthy man. The world smiled at you when I found it and not some undersexed teenager.”

My cheeks flush and I take a sip of my wine to try to bide myself some time. He watches the glass lift to my lips, my tongue licking the moisture off them as I place the crystal back on the table.

“So,” I say, feeling brave, “It’s safe to assume you aren’t undersexed?”

His lips twitch and I wonder if he’s fighting a smile or a smirk. Either way, I struggle with my own to prevent them from lurching across the table and planting them on his.

“At this moment,” he grins, “I feel a little . . . needy.”

“No one likes a needy man.”

“Is that so?”

I nod, watching him feel me out.

“What do people like?”

“People in the biblical sense? Or people like . . . me?”

My heartbeat pounds so hard that I feel a touch lightheaded. I’m usually not so forward, especially on a first date. But he makes it so easy, so natural, that I fall into step with his banter without even thinking about it.

His features light up, his head cocking to the side. “Let’s go with you.”

“Okay, then,” I say, surprising myself with the confidence in my voice. “What do I like in a man? I’d have to say I’m partial to alpha males that make me laugh. And confidence and intelligence are always, always hot.”

“I’m four for four.”

I laugh. “I’ll agree that you don’t seem to be lacking in confidence.”

His laughter mixes with mine and I love the way it sounds melting together. He notices it, too, because our voices ring out longer than necessary, and when they die out, we both seem to miss it immediately.

“So,” he says, sitting back in his chair and taking a sip of his wine, “what did you do today after you cleared me of wrongdoing?”

“Presley and I looked at some getaways. We’re thinking of going away for a weekend before I go back to school. Someplace fun and relaxed.”

“Those are my favorite places. When I go away, I want to shut down and zone out.”

“Don’t we all,” I sigh. “That’s exactly what I need right now. Just to get away from the craziness in my life and have some fun.”

“Traveling is one of life’s simplest pleasures. I do it as often as I can. It’s in my blood, a nomad’s heart.”