Complications(7)

“I’m sorry. I just had one of those moments, you know?” She could feel the beginnings of a ramble slowly start to creep up on her. “This morning, for example. When I woke up this morning, I didn’t expect that after I closed my shop I would be having dinner at this nice restaurant with you, of all people. I expected to be in my pajamas, watching old TV show reruns, and cooking dinner.” The waiter returned with a tray, effectively interrupting her. A mixture of relief and embarrassment overwhelmed her. Olivia watched as the waiter presented the wine bottle to Alex, while he nodded. But as the waiter uncorked the bottle, Alex’s gaze returned to hers and she couldn’t look away.

The restaurant itself had rather dim lighting but there were candles placed on every table to make up for it. Olivia couldn’t help but notice that Alex looked even more devilishly handsome in their light. His eyes were darker and candlelight cut shadows across his face that accentuated his sharp jaw line and straight nose.

The waiter poured Alex’s wine first and waited for his approval before moving to fill her own glass. The waiter left and, once again, she found herself alone with him. “So, you would be in your pajamas right now? What kind would they be?” Alex asked, his tone deceptively innocent. She felt some nervous tension release from her shoulders as she managed a smile.

“Nothing as exciting as I’m sure you’re imagining,” she replied, shaking her head as though he was hopeless.

They both took sips of their wine. In Olivia’s case, it was more of a large mouthful in order to calm her nerves. But she noticed that Alex looked thoughtful when she returned her glass to the table. “I knew though,” he said.

“Knew what?” she asked, leaning forward a bit while she crossed her ankles together under the table.

“When I woke up this morning, I knew that I would be having dinner with you tonight,” he replied.

Shocked, she laughed. “That’s a little presumptuous of you, isn’t it? How could you have possibly known that I would’ve agreed?” But she couldn’t deny that his casual arrogance turned her on a little. Okay, maybe a lot.

His smile turned wicked and Olivia’s heart missed a beat when he leaned over towards her. Their table was already small, but he was so close that she could reach out a hand and brush the errant black lock away from his forehead. “I didn’t, but I can be very persuasive when I set my mind on something.”

“Or someone,” she murmured, her eyes locked to his. He grinned and leaned back right as the waiter returned to take their order. Slightly flustered, Olivia chose the first thing she saw on the menu. “I’ll have the spinach ravioli with prawns.”

“Chicken piccata. Thank you,” Alex said as he handed the menus back to the waiter. Olivia reached for her wine once again as she thought of something to say.

“So, Alex,” she started, testing his name on her tongue. “What do you do in order to be dressed up like that during the day?” she asked, gesturing to his clothes.

Alex looked down to his chest, with a mock frown, “What? You have a problem with my clothes?”

His tone was warm, so she knew he took no offense. Smiling, she said, “Not at all. I think you look very…” she trailed off, not wanting to say sexy, even though it was the first description that popped into her head.

He leaned forward again and his voice lowered, “Dashing? Handsome?”

“Formal,” she corrected, trying to hide a smile and failing. Whenever he lowered his voice that way, where it almost sounded like a purr, she felt light-headed and—heaven forbid—almost giddy. She felt like a little girl with her first crush. The idea was so ridiculous, she instantly sobered, not wanting to seem over eager to him. “And, not to mention, a little uncomfortable.”

“I think you may be the first person to say that to me,” Alex drawled, his dark eyes still locked to hers. “But as for the clothes, you get used to them when you wear them most of the day.”

“I couldn’t imagine having to wear high heels and skirts to work everyday. I guess it’s a good thing I work in a cupcake shop,” she replied. She could feel herself starting to relax. She figured the rich red wine was doing its job.

“And that you don’t have a boss telling you otherwise. Although, if I were your boss, I’d make you wear high heels and skirts to work everyday,” he said, his voice sinfully smooth. He smiled when he saw her responding flush.

“You’re a shameless flirt. Has anyone ever told you that?” she asked, trying to calm the redness of her cheeks with the back of her hand. But despite her embarrassment, she couldn’t stop the warmth flooding her lower belly.