Having just returned from a medical meeting of some sort in Little Rock, Joel was still dressed in a dark jacket, a gray shirt and tie and charcoal slacks. He looked very much the successful young professional. He’d come straight to her place when he’d returned because he’d been held up by freeway traffic and was running late for the dinner date they’d planned.
He’d found Nic just getting out of the shower, having lost track of time herself when a group of off-duty coworkers had taken advantage of a beautiful Saturday afternoon to play in an area park. He’d caught a glimpse of her latest injuries when the robe had parted as she’d walked across the room toward him. And he hadn’t stopped fussing since, she thought with a sigh.
“If we’re going out to dinner, I’d better get dressed,” she said, grateful to change the subject. “You can run home and change if you want. We’re not in any hurry.”
He shrugged. “I’m okay. I’ll just wear this.”
Which meant she wouldn’t be wearing the jeans and sweater she’d laid out on her bed, she thought, reluctantly putting them away. She could hardly wear jeans when Joel was dressed like Mr. GQ.
Pulling out her black slacks and black-and-purple sweater—the infamous Penderville Pirates outfit—she threw them on the bed and slipped out of her robe. “How was your meeting?”
His gaze was focused on her as he answered, and it would have been nice to think he was admiring the way she looked in her bra and panties. He probably did, but she was well aware that he was glaring at the deepening bruise on her right calf when he answered absently, “It was okay. Kind of dull.”
“Sorry to hear that.” She stepped into her pants, hiding the offending bruise from his sight, though she knew it was still in his mind.
Since they were dressed up, he drove her to a nice restaurant in North Little Rock, just over a twenty-minute drive away, where he encouraged her to order anything she wanted. “I’m having the steak and lobster tail,” he informed her when she frowned at the prices listed on the right side of the menu. “You like seafood, don’t you?”
She loved seafood, actually, but her budget rarely extended to these prices. Anything over ten bucks was an extravagance to her—and these meals were well over ten bucks.
“Look, they have Alaskan king crab legs,” Joel pointed out helpfully. “I know you like those, I’ve heard you mention it to Aislinn.”
“Well, yes, but…”
“That’s settled, then. Want to split some stuffed mushrooms for an appetizer? If we’re going to indulge tonight, we might as well go all out. Besides, I’m sure you worked off the calories today,” he added in a mutter.
Putting the prices out of her mind, Nic set the menu aside. “I love stuffed mushrooms.”
“Good. We might even save room for dessert. The key lime pie here is the best I’ve had in this state.”
Nic could almost hear the echo of her coworkers’ teasing in her mind as she listened to Joel rattle off their food order without seeming to even care that the tab was going to be higher than her monthly electric bill. And it wasn’t even a special occasion, she mused, reaching for her water glass. Just dinner.
She told herself that Joel wasn’t trying to impress her. He had been in the mood for surf and turf and he could afford it, so why not treat himself—and her—if he wanted?
Their conversation was just a bit more stilted than usual, maybe because of the atypical formality of their surroundings. They talked about his meeting, and about her game with her friends—though that seemed to be a rather sticky subject, for some reason. Finally they just concentrated on their meals, agreeing occasionally that the food was delicious.
It wasn’t late when they returned home, so Nic invited Joel inside. It occurred to her as he entered that they never went to his house. She wondered if there was any significance to that or if it was just coincidence. She seemed to be trying to read too much into everything tonight, she told herself with an impatient shake of her head.
She assured herself that she wasn’t being cowardly when she wrapped her arms around Joel’s neck and smiled flirtatiously up at him. She wasn’t really avoiding any further awkward conversation. She just missed touching him.
“That,” she told him, “was a truly delicious meal. A real treat. I owe you a special dinner in return. Maybe I’ll cook my famous shrimp-and-asparagus casserole for you soon.”
He looped his arms loosely around her waist. “Famous, huh?”
“I’ve taken it to two department potlucks and gotten rave reviews both times.”
“Then I’ll definitely have to try it.”
“In the meantime…” She rose on tiptoes to brush her lips against his.
“Oh, yeah. In the meantime…” He gathered her close.
They moved to her bedroom, and the nice clothes were thrown in a careless heap on the carpeting. Mouths fused, hands roaming, they rolled on the bed, heat building rapidly between them.
Nic flinched instinctively when Joel’s shin scraped over her freshly bruised calf. He stilled immediately, making her silently curse herself for revealing her momentary discomfort.
“Did I hurt
you?”