If the prospect of launching a podcast for Chicago Pulse wasn’t distracting enough, having dinner with Dalton yet again was enough to make Hannah a loopy-minded mess. Time slowed to a crawl as she tried powering through writing up the basic structure for the Thunder Club article, then burned some time researching the history of CATE. If she was going to get the chance to walk along the hallowed halls of Chicago's most exclusive college prep school, the least she could do was learn the ins and outs of how the place got started.
The day dragged on for eons, but when quitting time finally rolled around she was the first one out of her chair, her heart pumping so hard she could feel it. It was crazy, to be this excited about meeting someone for dinner, she tried telling herself as she all but ran to her car. It was just a freaking dinner date, for crying out loud. She’d gone on dozens of these. When had she ever been breathless with anticipation, or had her hands shake ever so slightly just because of a stupid dinner date?
Never.
But this wasn’t just any date. This was a second chance with the most gorgeous, compelling man she’d ever encountered, and she wanted it to work this time around.
No, not just wanted.
Something in her needed this date to work with Dalton. Because if it didn’t, she had this gnawing feeling that she’d be missing out on something profound, life-altering.
Magical.
That excitement—or madness, depending on how she looked at it—carried her all the way through the journey to the texted address. But when she wound up in a posh residential area in front of a contemporary house full of slanted rooflines and large picture windows looking out at much more conservative-looking houses of Colonial or Federal architecture, she figured her GPS had somehow led her astray. Just as she grabbed up her phone to see where she’d gone wrong, the front door opened, and Dalton stepped out onto the wide, covered porch.
What in the world...?
“This had better be a steakhouse,” she announced the moment she climbed out of her car. “My new policy of keeping myself safe includes never—repeat, never—going over to a stranger’s house.”
“I approve of that policy.” He seemed to nod in agreement as he moved down the slope of shallow concrete steps to meet her, then reached out to casually pluck her car keys from her hand. “It’s a damn good thing I’m not a stranger.”
She sighed, not fighting it. Why would she? She was exactly where she wanted to be. “You still haven’t given me an answer about this being a steakhouse.”
“Does that mean you’re hungry?”
She looked at his mouth and tried not to bite her lip. “You could say that.”
“Good, because everything but the steaks and salad are ready to go. I was just waiting on you to show up.”
“Excellent.” She gave him her best smile as he guided her back up the stairs toward the front door. “But don’t think I’m a meek little pushover, pal. I’m just hungry enough to overlook this little bait-and-switch you pulled to get me here.”
“I promised you the best steak in town, and that’s what you’re going to get. Can’t call that a bait-and-switch.” He stopped on the porch and turned to her, cupping his hand along the side of her jaw in a gesture that was becoming all too familiar, before he bent and threatened her mouth with his. “Can you?”
“As long as I get a steak, I guess not.” The last word was whispered against his lips as he closed that last bit of distance between them to give her a quick, yet thorough kiss. When he raised his head and looked down at her like he was searching for the meaning of life, she tilted her head in bewilderment. “What?”
“What if I did decide to lure you into my home just to keep you here with me? Would that be a bad thing in your book?”
A flash of alarm zipped through her, and she covered it by a half-laugh while simultaneously stepping away from him. “You wouldn’t be able to get away with it.”
“Yeah?” A shutter seemed to drop in front of his eyes even as a corner of his mouth curled. “Why the hell not?”
“I texted Zenni about our dinner date tonight and specifically asked her to ask your pal Talon if you were a man I could trust—to which he responded, I guess, if you’re desperate. Point is, my sudden disappearance would definitely be noted. Now, about those steaks?”
He shook his head before gesturing he toward the open front door. “I guess that answers my question. Let’s see about feeding you before your hungry turns into hangry.”