He led her to a dark sedan parked at the curb, opening the door for her.
“This is your car?” she asked in shock.
“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re asking.” He arched his brow, waiting for her to get in.
She’d expected him to have a racy sports car, something sleek and sexy—not something that belonged to a family man. Trying to cover her confusion, she asked the first question that came to mind. “How did you manage to park right here?”
“Parking karma, darling.” He flashed her a grin. When she was settled in, he closed the door securely and went around to his side.
She liked having the door opened for her. It was probably very un-feminist of her, but she didn’t care. It had nothing to do with needing someone to help her and everything to do with someone showing he cared for her, the way a mother should for her child.
She’d never had that, from her mother or a man.
She wondered if Ben was the chivalrous type. Try as she did, she couldn’t picture it.
The driver’s side door closed, snapping her out of her thoughts. She looked around the car, inhaled the leather, and then looked at the gorgeous man next to her. This was what going to a hotel for an afternoon of debauchery would feel like. Exciting and decadent.
She did not belong here.
“I think you’ll like this restaurant,” Joe said, smiling at her. In the close confines of the car, the smile was much more intimate than any she’d ever received from him, and it dared her to be wicked.
Murmuring something incoherent, she strapped herself in and edged closer to the door.
They didn’t drive far, pulling up to what looked like an average home in a modest neighborhood. There was no sign or anything that suggested the posh sort of restaurant she’d expect Joe to select. He guided her to the door and pressed the buzzer.
They were let in by a motherly woman with a warm smile. She matched the décor: charming and cozy, nothing modern or pretentious about it.
It was quite busy for a Sunday afternoon, but they were seated quickly, in a warm spot by a fireplace. Em brushed a streak of dirt from her pants, glad she’d dressed cute instead of practical for gardening.
Joe handed her a menu. “You know what’s going to happen now.”
“We order food?”
“Ben will ask you on a date.” He arched his brow, focused on her instead of the menu in his hand. “He saw another dog sniffing around his discarded toy, and now he suddenly realizes he wants the toy for himself.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Am I supposed to be pleased being compared to a dog’s toy?”
“It’s the most apt analogy I could think of on the fly.”
Ben certainly had looked territorial—in his way. She should have been happy about it, but at the moment Joe’s concern over the situation thrilled her more.
That wasn’t good—at all.
And tomorrow she’d get her head firmly back in place, but for now she was going to enjoy his attention. “Have you eaten here? Is there something you’d recommend?”
“Em, I hadn’t realized how heartless you were until this moment. To think I once thought you were a good girl.” He lifted a hand for the waiter.
The waiter arrived and Joe ordered a bottle of wine before she could stop him. She didn’t like wine. She sighed. Now she’d have to pretend to drink some so he wouldn’t get offended.
The waiter returned with the wine and two glasses. Joe tried a small sip after the waiter opened the bottle and nodded his approval. The waiter poured some for her and took their order.
Joe lifted his glass to her. “It’s more of a summer wine, to have on a picnic, but I think of warmth and sun when I think of you, so it seemed appropriate.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you putting me on?”
“No, I’m not.” He smiled indulgently as he took a sip of wine.
She looked at her glass. It was a golden color instead of the pale color most wines were. She took a careful taste and blinked in shock. “This is delicious.”
He nodded, looking amused.
Alarms began to go off in her head. “What are you up to, Joe?”
“What do you think I’m up to?”
“Making another conquest.”
“A conquest?” He smiled, but there was nothing humorous about it.
Why did he look unhappy at that assessment? Confused, Em took another sip of wine. “I don’t see what else it could be. I’m just a receptionist, and you usually go out with exciting women.”
He arched his brow. “You keep track of who I go out with?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Maybe I’m not who you think.”
Em snorted.