Your One True Love (The Bennett Family 8)

“Caroline, hey.” Leaning forward, he kisses my cheek, grazing my skin lightly, one hand on my waist. He ignites my skin at every point of contact. As skillfully as possible, I step away and look around.

“I love the view. You don’t spend a lot of time in here, though, do you?”

“No. I like being outdoors, in the middle of the action, but I do need an office for meetings and paperwork, so naturally I took the best room in the building.”

I grin. “Naturally.” Grinning, I hold up the bag. “Here’s the delivery. Your sister’s shoes and a gift for baby Maddox.”

He takes the bag from me, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb.

“How’s dinner sound? Give us time to catch up, and I’m starving. There’s a restaurant serving delicious enchiladas just around the corner.”

My grin fades as I consider this. On the one hand, I love enchiladas. On the other hand, being around Daniel is dangerous.

Daniel leans in closer, bringing his hand to the small curve in my lower back. I wish he weren’t so touchy-feely. And I wish I didn’t enjoy it so much. “You love enchiladas.”

“I do,” I admit on a sigh, my mouth watering just at the thought of a juicy enchilada, and all those flavors exploding in my mouth.

“Perfect, that’s a yes. Let’s go.”

“You’d twist anything I say into a yes.”

The corners of his mouth twitch. “Summer is going to ask for a report on tonight, and there’s a real risk I’ll stop being her favorite brother if I don’t even convince you to go to dinner with me.”

I put both my hands over my chest theatrically. “I don’t know what shocks me more: that you still live under the impression you’re her favorite brother or that you fear her questionings so much.”

“Well, if you’ve learned to shut my sister down, by all means, tell me how.”

I drop my hands. “I just have evasive maneuvers, but those don’t always work. Okay, lead the way.”

After grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair, he leads me out of the room and the building.

“It’s just around the corner.”

Daniel’s office building is on Hyde Street, and we pass the famously crooked section of Lombard Street with its hairpin turns, red brick paving, and bright green hedges. I love this city to no end. When I was in Europe for my year abroad, I traveled as much as I could afford. I went to London, Paris, Prague. Each city had a charm of its own, but I couldn’t wait to return to San Francisco. Between the cable cars and the crooked Lombard Street, my hometown always seemed magical to me.

Not five minutes later, we arrive at the restaurant. There’s a long line to the entrance, but Daniel walks with me right past it to the front.

“Mr. Bennett,” the waiter greets him as if they are old friends. “Your table is ready.”

“You made reservations?” I whisper. “What if I said no?”

He brings a hand at the small of my back, guiding me inside. “I was optimistic.”

The waiter leads us to a table smack dab in the center of the room. Normally, I wouldn’t mind it, but the tables are so close to each other, it feels claustrophobic.

Daniel doesn’t miss a beat. “We want a more secluded table.”

“Certainly!” the waiter says, leading us to a table in the back. As soon as we sit, I immerse myself in the menu, and my mouth waters just reading the offerings. Their make-your-own-enchilada option is particularly appealing. You can pimp it to your stomach’s desire. The problem is that when I’m left to my own devices, and I have an empty stomach, I tend to take the pimping to a ridiculous level. Which is why I end up ordering an enchilada with twice as many ingredients as needed. A pang of guilt rears its head, but I push it away quickly. I was supposed to be on a diet, but between my dad’s dinner and this... I’ll start again next Monday.

“You come here often?” I ask.

“Often enough. It’s a hit with many clients. Even the high-profile ones, and they’re picky.”

“You don’t like working with them?”

He shrugs. “They’re high maintenance. But they bring in a lot of business. It wasn’t my focus when I first set up the business, but I did have a lot of contacts in the scene from my....”

“Wild years?” I supply because he seems to struggle with finding the right words.