Giving In(23)

But he knew. Damn the man, he knew. At least he wasn’t smug. He didn’t look triumphant. He just stared tenderly at her, like he always did, as if he knew exactly the battle she waged with herself. Saw every fear. Heard every doubt. And yet he still wanted her.

It baffled and awed her all at the same time.

“It’s just a date,” he said mildly. “Dinner. Maybe a movie. We could rent something and relax on the couch. I won’t try and get into your pants. Yet,” he added with a sly grin.

His teasing should infuriate her, but she was grateful because his levity took the burn from her eyes and lessened her need to weep.

It was just dinner. What was the harm? Even as she asked that stupid question she knew the answer. Giving in to him would be like opening the gates to an invading army. Give him an inch and he’d take the whole bloody mile.

“You’re starting to bruise my ego,” he said dryly. “Surely I’m not so terrible.”

“No,” she said quietly, not willing to let him think so. He’d done too much for her. Been too kind, understanding. He’d seen her at her worst. How could she ever think he was horrible?

“Well, that’s something,” he said, breathing out with exaggerated relief. “Now, about dinner. I promise not to take you back to the place that caters to rich old farts. Is it a date?”

She laughed, unable to prevent her reaction to him. He could be quite charming when he wasn’t all broody and intense—which was most of the time. Why was it she thought that she was the only person who saw this side of him? It was awfully egotistical of her to assume and yet the thought took hold and wouldn’t go away. She’d seen the way he was with others. Polite, but distant. Observant. Ever watchful.

“All right,” she finally conceded.

She’d vowed she was through being a coward, and to turn him down would be the height of cowardice. Especially after last night. She refused to tuck tail and run even if that’s what her instincts were screaming at her to do. But it was time to start refashioning her outlook on life and stop cowering at the least bit of conflict. She couldn’t avoid the rest of the world forever. Perhaps going out with Jensen would give her back a little of herself in the process.

Or maybe she’d end up losing every part of herself to him.

“Oh crap,” she murmured, her eyes closing.

“What?”

She reopened them, hoping he could see how earnest she was. “I can’t go to dinner with you Friday night.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

She sighed. “I promised to have dinner with Chessy. Tate is entertaining an important client and with Joss gone, she’s been lonely. I can’t ditch her, Jensen. Tate’s been so busy with work and I worry about her.”

Jensen smiled at her. “You’re a very loyal friend. She’s lucky to have you. I’ll let you off the hook if you’ll give me Saturday night.”

Relief rushed through her veins. “Deal.”

“Perfect then. I’ll pick you up at six thirty. Dress casual. You want to watch movies at your place or mine?”

It was stupid that panic frayed her nerves at the idea of being in Jensen’s space. Of being alone with him in his home. He’d been alone with her in hers! Hell, he’d slept in her bed, wrapped solidly around her.

“My place,” she said quickly, hoping he didn’t pick up on that sudden surge of panic and take it personally.

But he only smiled that same damn smile that told her he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling.

“Your place it is. If you’d prefer not to go out, I could cook you dinner at your house and then we can watch movies,” he said in a casual tone.

She frowned. “That hardly seems fair. Shouldn’t I be cooking for you?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I invited you on a date and if you’re giving me your hospitality, the least I can do is cook a meal for you. Besides, I’m an excellent cook, if I do say so myself.”

She held up her hands. “Okay, okay. You win. Give me a list of everything you need and I’ll run by the store Saturday morning.”

He shook his head. “I’ll take care of it. All I ask is for you to sit and keep me company while I work my magic in your kitchen.”

“It certainly appears I’m getting the better end of this deal,” she said dryly.

“On the contrary,” he said softly. “I get your company. I find that’s worth a hell of a lot more than one cooked meal.”

She was speechless again, an affliction she seemed to suffer on a regular basis around him. And the hell of it was he sounded absolutely sincere.

“I swear I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Jensen Tucker,” she said in a bewildered voice.