Frowning, he stopped walking and searched her face for…something. She wasn’t sure what, but hopefully he found it. “The second one.”
“Because this isn’t a real date. It’s an obligation.”
He let go of his hold on her arm, caught her chin, and tipped her face up to his. His fingers burned on her bare skin. There was no other word for it. “This feels pretty damn real to me.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “I think we both know it’s not.”
“Then let’s make it real.”
She shook her head, legs trembling. “Taylor—”
“I like you, Sam. A lot.”
A short laugh escaped her. She couldn’t help it. She was just too darn cynical for her own good. “You don’t even know me.”
“But I want to, and that’s huge for me. Really huge.” He stepped closer, and her breath shortened, as if she were sprinting. “Go out with me on a real date tonight. Dinner. Your choice of restaurant. It can be as fancy or cheap as you’d like. Puerto’s. Curry’s. Applebee’s. McDonald’s. I don’t give a damn, as long as you say yes.”
The world spun around her because he was asking her out on an actual date, and the way he studied her…it was like he saw all her secrets, all her shame, and didn’t care. That was impossible, of course, but still. For the first time in years, she wanted to ignore all the reasons she should say no, stop playing it safe, and spend a night in a rich, attractive, charming, charismatic man’s arms—screw the consequences. She bit her tongue. Saying yes, was horrible, stupid, foolish, selfish, idiotic—
“Yes. I’ll go out with you.”
Well, crap.
Chapter Six
You’re striking out, dumbass.
Taylor had taken a lot of women out, and he always knew just what to do. Flash his money at them. Buy them whatever they wanted.
But with this woman, none of that impressed her.
He’d never been an indecisive man, but with Sam…
It was an unsettling confusion. He prided himself on never losing his way, acting impulsively, or losing control. At a young age, he’d learned to hide his emotions. Life as the kid of the poorest single mom in an impoverished town had put a target on his back, and before he’d learned to control his temper, he had let some bratty kid get the best of him.
He didn’t give a damn what they said about him, but the second that little fucker turned his insults toward his mother? It had been game fucking on. Taylor had unleashed the fires of hell on his enemy and broken his nose. He’d been pretty proud of it, too, until his mother had sobbed in the principal’s office and he’d realized that his actions had only made things harder.
At that moment, he swore to never lose control again or make her cry. He’d been nine at the time. He had yet to break that promise.
But Sam threw him off.
He wasn’t sure why…but she did.
She rubbed her bare arms, stepping into the darkness outside the soup kitchen. They’d been serving food for three hours now and had finally cleared the room of all hungry occupants. The sun had set, and there was a chill to the air that hadn’t been there when they arrived.
Shrugging out of his flannel, he took a deep breath before sliding it over her shoulders.
Her mouth parted in surprise.
“You shivered,” he said.
A small smile teased at her lips. “I’m cold.”
“Hopefully not anymore.”
She hugged the flannel close, taking a deep breath. “I’m a little better.”
“Hungry?” he asked awkwardly.