Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
“Oh, okay.”
He didn’t typically get rentals in Freddy, either. The half of a dozen cab companies and car services on his contact list made travel simple, and an easy write-off at the end of the year for his accountant. He’d made an exception with the two-door Lexus he rented to take Delaney out.
Not that he planned to tell her, of course.
It was just a car.
This was only the first date.
Lucas was still trying to feel this girl out beyond the four walls of the salon where he met her, but he wanted to. That was a damn good start.
He chanced a glance over his shoulder.
Delaney didn’t miss it. “She’s not moved, has she?”
“Not one inch,” he confirmed.
She only laughed.
“It’s good to have someone looking out for you,” Lucas added as they rounded the car to the passenger side.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Sometimes, eh?”
Delaney shrugged, muttering, “Sometimes.”
He opened the door for her, and waited until she was comfortably inside before closing the door. On his way back around the front of the vehicle, he waved to the woman standing beyond the entrance doors.
Bexley waved back.
Once inside the Lexus, his new passenger handed over the cell phone that had been in her seat, and then asked, “Any reason you asked for my shoe size this morning?”
Lucas shot Delaney a smirk while he put the car in reverse. “That, sweets, is a surprise.”
One he had planned for later.
“Sweets?”
She didn’t sound offended.
He took that as a win.
Lucas tried to keep his gaze on the rearview mirror while he backed out of the spot, but he couldn’t stop it from cutting to her once or twice. The bit of pink color heating Delaney’s cheeks and the way she watched him below the long sweep of her dark lashes stopped the sudden should I or shouldn’t I game he found himself playing in his head.
Why not?
He wanted her to know he was interested.
In everything.
Anything.
“If you taste anything like you smell, it’s appropriate,” he offered.
Delaney guffawed in the seat next to his, but her grin melted into something sexy all the same. He reveled in the fact she didn’t shrink away at the suggestive comment. “You’re going to have to work for that.”
So be it.
All he knew was work.
Chapter 11
Manger—the name a nod to the French chef heading the kitchen—happened to be one of maybe three restaurants in the city that required a dress code of its patrons. Nothing crazy. Blazers and ties for men, and appropriate dress for their counterparts. It meant the usual diners tended to be professionals or someone looking for a step above the norm for their dining experience. Quiet people enjoying a good meal while discussing business or life.
The menu varied from extravagant dishes the chef learned while training in France to the steak and potato dishes that Lucas preferred when he dined. The curated list of desserts changed depending on the time of the year, but the infamous cherry cheesecake Manger was known for remained at the top regardless of the season.
Cozy tables surrounded by tan suede chairs with clam shaped backs faced windows overlooking a central part of town; or depending on the room, diners sat in front of digital fireplaces with water features dropping down from the ceiling that created partition walls for privacy. Dark colored stonework made hearths around the fireplaces and added to the calming ambiance of the place.
Lucas tried to get a table for lunch or dinner whenever he ended up in the city, but it always depended on his schedule. Especially when dining at Manger meant waiting a good while to actually eat, but that would give Lucas and his companion a chance to talk without food between them.
When he did get the opportunity to drop by the place, he typically ate alone, and had only met up with someone in passing that he recognized who was also dining at the same time. Perhaps that was why the host who greeted Lucas and Delaney at the front of the restaurant, one of three whom he recognized that rotated shifts, smiled a little wider at the sight of him stepping beyond the entry doors with someone at his side.
A woman, no less.
“Mr. Dalton,” Curtis welcomed with hands stretching over the stone podium he would stand behind until directing them further beyond the entrance alcove. “And his guest—hello. I hope you’re both having a warm night. It’s cold out there.”
“So far, not bad,” he told the host. Lucas encouraged Delaney to head in front of him to shake the man’s hand first with a press of his palm at her lower back, and she moved forward without hesitance. “Miss Reed, Curtis.”
The host passed Lucas a knowing look and a smile as he shook Delaney’s hand, still warm in mittens, with both of his. “Welcome to Manger, Miss Reed. Is tonight your first time at the restaurant?”