“With me.”
“Alone.”
Brow arched, he cast her a glance. “Are you not confident in your ability to resist me?”
No! Even now she burned for him. To distract them both, she said, “If we go on a date tonight—”
“If?”
“We have to actually go out,” she continued. “To dinner, at the very least. And you have to pay for everything.”
“Pay for everything? Baby, I only ever go Dutch.”
Hardly. “Everything,” she insisted.
“Fine. I’ll pay for everything. Do you see how accommodating I can be?” He released a heavy sigh. “If only you were as easygoing as I am, willing to compromise about the room.”
She swallowed a grin. “Very well. You can stay in the room with me, but you’ll have to sleep on the floor.”
“Certainly. After we have the most amazing sex of your life.”
Incorrigible male. “I don’t put out on first dates.” Instead of stopping at the very room under discussion, he dragged her out of the inn. The sun was in the process of setting, the big ball of fire turning the sky into a canvas lit up with different shades of pink, purple and gold.
As they strolled down the sidewalk, realization hit. “Wait,” Harlow said. “Where are we going?”
“On our date, of course.”
She dug in her heels. “We can’t go on our date right now. I’m wearing scrubs.”
“It’s not my problem you decided to dress down for the occasion.”
Note to self: when Beck goes to war, he fights dirty. “As I’m sure you know, a girl is more likely to fall for a man’s seduction if she’s feeling sexy.”
“Since you’ve already decided not to put out, that hardly matters in your case.” He paused in front of Two Farms, peering down at her with sizzling hunger he couldn’t quite contain. Voice low and husky, he said, “Have I told you yet how sexy you are right now?”
“Incorrigible,” she muttered.
“Just desperate for you.” He lowered his head, feeding her the kiss every girl dreamed of receiving, deep and intense, as if he’d never tasted anything so sweet and he had no intention of ever stopping. But just as she reached for him—so weak, not even trying to resist—he pulled away to lead her inside, leaving her panting, reeling.
“Table for two in back. Preferably a shadowed corner so no one will be able to see what I’m doing with my hands,” he told the hostess, a girl in her early twenties who stood there staring at him for several long, embarrassing moments.
Know how she feels. Harlow tapped the girl on the shoulder and in a stage whisper, said, “He has gas.” She shrugged then, as if to say, What can you do?
The girl withered with disappointment. “This way, y’all.”
Beck tapped Harlow’s butt cheek as they followed, whispering, “Really, darling? You went with noxious odors?”
His next tap had a bit more bite, and she giggled like the carefree girl she’d never before been.
Several of the patrons noticed Beck and waved him over. He pretended not to notice.
The hostess motioned to a small round booth in the corner. Harlow slid to the center, and Beck moved in close beside her; they accepted their menus. Though Harlow had lived in Strawberry Valley all her life, she’d eaten here only once, with Brook Lynn and the girls. She remembered nothing about the food.
Beck’s heavy arm wound around her shoulders. “I’m sure you’re dying to know how my dates usually go and lucky for you, I’m going to tell you. I order for both of us, I ask questions about your past, and then we go back to your place or mine.”
“Mostly yours,” she grumbled.
“But that isn’t how this date will go down.”
Insulted, she gasped out, “Well, why not? And just so you know, this date is now shaping up to be the opposite of awesome and I will share my review with all the women in town.”
The waitress was close in age to the hostess and arrived with an overbright smile, doing her best to keep her distance while still being heard. “What can I get you guys to drink?” It was clear she’d pulled down the collar of her shirt and pushed up her boobs to accentuate her massive cleavage.
Beck’s attention went straight to her eyes. “We’ll start with your best red. We’ll have today’s special, whatever it is, and other than the delivery of each item, assume we’re fine and stay away.”
The girl appeared relieved as she ambled off. Harlow couldn’t believe Beck had been so rude to a female. He hadn’t even laced his words with innuendo.
Did he have a fever?
“I thought you weren’t ordering for me,” Harlow said.
Beck cupped the back of her neck, a possessive action she loved, toying with her hair. “Here’s how this evening is going to go. I’m placing my balls in your court, and yes, I hope you take that several ways. You can question me about my past, and I will answer truthfully, no matter how personal you get. You may continue until the end of the meal, when I will take over.”
Unrestricted access to his past? Even for a limited time? Yes, please. “I agree to your terms. But you only get to ask me one question a day.” That way, he would have something new to look forward to—other than sex.
“Two questions.”
“Zero.”
His lips quirked at the corners. “All right. One question a day.”