“Maybe you should adjust your expectations, Persephone. I’m trying to romance you, not just get in your pants.”
I shivered at his words, wondering what kind of alternate universe I’d slid into when I could be immediately turned on by my best friend, a man I’d known most of my life. Was this how it worked? One day, you were just friends, laughing and joking together, and the next, white-hot lust.
“To be fair, there’s no need to try to get in my pants. I’m a sure thing.”
Ryan’s lips curled into a sexy grin. “There’s no ulterior motive to this, just to make sure you know you are beautiful and sexy, and deserving of romance.”
Dammit, it was only our first date and he was making it difficult to keep things platonic—or as platonic as they could be when I hoped the night would end with orgasms. “The orchid was a nice, romantic touch, too.”
This time, his smile was wide and proud. “The color reminds me of your eyes,” he said in low, sexy tone. “And you won’t kill it within the next forty-eight hours.”
His words surprised a laugh out of me. “Another bonus to dating your best friend?”
He nodded. “One of many.”
The heat in his gaze sent a shiver through my body and a pulsing between my thighs.
“What’s another?”
He smiled and nodded at the approaching waiter. “I had them chill your favorite wine—and let me tell you how appalled they were about it.”
I laughed because I could only imagine what this fancy place thought of serving ice-cold red wine. “Sorry, but thank you. It just tastes better that way.”
I shrugged. “They don’t have to drink it.”
His words had a melting effect on my body that I worked like hell to contain. “Good point.”
The waiter approached with a nervous smile. “Good evening. My name is Thomas and I’ll be your server this evening.” His hands shook but he seemed to have a handle on it—and then he didn’t.
The tray wobbled on the edge of the table and the wine bottle tipped over before he could catch it, sending a deep, dark red wine arcing into the air before landing on Ryan’s sky-blue shirt.
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!”
Ryan waved off his apology with a good-natured smile but the kid was inconsolable. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Shit,” he muttered to himself. “I am really sorry, sir. I’ll have it dry cleaned. How much is dry cleaning, anyway?”
Ryan smiled again. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. My girl has the best stain remover in the world.” He winked at me before turning back to the waiter. “I’ll tell your boss I tipped the bottle because I couldn’t keep my hands off her. Think he’ll buy it?”
The waiter finally relaxed a little and flashed an uncertain smile. “I don’t know. He’s a stickler about not letting the customers touch the wine until after the first pour.”
“What happened to ‘the customer is always right’?”
Before the waiter could respond, an ear-splitting sound tore through the peace and quiet of the dining room.
“It’s the fire alarm, you folks should head for the exit. It’s that way,” the waiter shouted over the incessant buzzing.
Ryan looked back toward the kitchen and his eyes widened at the flash of flames before he put a hand to my back and guided me out of the fancy French restaurant. “You good?”
I nodded. “Yeah,” I answered, my lips twitching with a smile that turned into a giggle.
Ryan raked a hand through his hair and flashed a crooked grin. “Not exactly the night I envisioned for us.”
“Me either, but it’s kind of perfect, don’t you think?”
His brows dipped in confusion. “No. Explain.”
“This kind of craziness, the hilarity of the waiter spilling wine on you and the kitchen catching on fire, it’s us. It’s our life.” I couldn’t help but laugh at his sorrowful expression. “Remember junior prom when we didn’t have dates and decided to go together? My shoes slipped all over the place and your tie wouldn’t stay tied, and then we both got food poisoning from that discount sushi place we thought was so cool. Disaster, but we still had a good time.”
Ryan said nothing for a long moment, shuffling us off to the car. He didn’t speak until his seatbelt was secure and the car was in motion. “I guess you have a point. I hope you do, otherwise this feels like a bad omen.”
A bubble of laughter exploded out of me. “All of a sudden, you believe in omens?”
“Only when I’m at risk of losing something that matters to me.”
“That was sweet,” I told him with a gooey smile and leaned across the center console to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “It’s not an omen, Ryan. Probably a drunk chef.”
Ryan laughed and slowed down as we passed a squat brick building that looked like a tiki hut with the word ‘pizza’ emblazoned across the front in neon green letters. “Then they won’t notice I took this to go.” He opened his jacket and produced what was left of the bottle of wine. “Our little secret,” he whispered with a wink.