Chase's strong jaw slid back and forth in consideration as he perused the pastries. "I'll take the lemon pastry, a black coffee and one dinner date."
I shook my head as I plucked the pastry from the tray. "You are persistent, I'll give you that."
"You don't get far in life without persistence."
Looking up at him was a huge mistake and caused the first crack in my resolve to not date him. He really did have one of those faces that could knock a woman senseless.
"One dinner, and if you hate it, you just say—Chase, I hated this night, and I only hope that I can someday wipe it from my memory. Sort of a money back guarantee. Then I promise to never ask again."
I had to work to keep from smiling. It was hard. He was pretty damn charming. I turned to the coffee pots.
"Do you like Italian?" he continued, unabated by my silence. "I know this great little restaurant with delicious pasta. Tonight? Say seven?"
I handed him his coffee. Turning down those green eyes would be like turning down a free trip to Paris. "Fine. But not seven. Eight. It takes me until then to finish with my baking."
I grabbed a napkin and picked up the pen I used for big orders. I scribbled down my address.
He placed it in his pocket and took his pastry. "See you at eight."
Chapter Nine
Macy
I had just finished cleaning the kitchen when Chase texted to let me know he was on his way. My preoccupation with my date, my first date with someone other than Trevor since high school, had caused me to over bake an entire tray of tarts. I'd had to start all over, and now I was running behind. It was a bad omen, I told myself as I dashed into the shower.
In my rush to get ready, I managed to stub my toe and break a fingernail. It had been so long since I’d dressed to go out somewhere that all my dresses were in the back of the closet. I dug one out that didn't look too wrinkled and pulled it over my wet hair. I stared down at the green sleeveless dress. The bodice buttoned up the front and hung a little looser than I remembered. I'd worked for months to lose weight for my wedding dress, a struggle when you baked sweets for a living. Still, I'd managed to lose the stubborn ten pounds I wanted vanquished before my wedding day. But after the nightmarish rehearsal dinner and the humiliation, anger and heartbreak that followed, I’d lost another ten pounds. It seemed I'd inadvertently discovered a quick way to lose weight for your wedding. Catch the groom cheating on you.
The hem on the dress was a bit shorter than I remembered, but I had no time to change. I pulled on sandals, hoping that the restaurant wasn't too fancy. I splashed on some mascara and combed my wet hair back into a ponytail. I finished up my hasty date preparation just as a car engine vibrated my small house.
I went to the side window and peeked around the blinds. It was some sort of expensive sports car, the kind that was low and flat with a big spoiler on the back. I wasn't versed in fast cars, so I had no idea what brand or make. But the man who climbed out of the driver’s seat was definitely one of a kind. At least in appearance. I was convinced this night would go just as I expected, and he would, in some way, disappoint me with some selfish jerk move. But I had decided to give this a try and go into it open-minded. Maybe they weren't all jerks. Maybe. One thing was for sure, I wasn't going to let Trevor's betrayal ruin the rest of my life and my chance for future happiness.
Chase knocked. I swung open the door. He'd pulled on a gray dress shirt, but he'd left the top button open and the sleeves were rolled up to show off the ink on his forearms and the expensive watch on his wrist.
I glanced down at my dress. "I hope this will do. The only fancy thing I own is a brand spanking new wedding dress. Still in the plastic and everything. But I decided white silk doesn't go well with spaghetti sauce."
"Probably a good call."
An awkward moment followed as he stood on the doorstep, and I blocked him from seeing into my tiny little house.
"It smells good in there," he noted.
"Thanks. Right. Well, come in and I'll give you the five second tour." I ushered him inside and thanked myself silently for vacuuming the night before.
"Stand right there." I pointed to a spot in the middle of the front room. "I can give you the entire tour from this one place. You won't even have to take a step. "Kitchen, where I bake and occasionally eat a meal or two." I pointed to the hallway. "Bedroom and bathroom, which are both a mess. Hence, the reason why you are standing here. And my great room, otherwise known as my closet sized living room. That's it."
He rubbed his chin. "I like it. It's cozy."
"Thank you. I'll get my bag." I walked into my bedroom and returned with my purse and house keys.
We walked out to the car. "Italian?" I asked.
"Yes and the best breadsticks this side of the Atlantic."
"Actually, I meant the car."
He laughed. "Yes, that too. But no breadsticks." Chase opened the passenger side, and I suddenly realized just how impractical my short dress was for climbing into a low car. I dragged in my second leg and pulled at the hem, but the angle that the seat was set at kept my knees high. The hem inched back up.
Chase tilted his head to the side. "See, that's why these cars cost so much money. They are designed specifically for short dresses." He shut the door. The warmth in my cheeks had barely cooled by the time he walked around and climbed inside.
Chase was a first class flirt, and if I was honest with myself, I didn't mind. Trevor had shaken so much of my confidence, I needed a little something to bolster it back up. And attention from a man like Chase might be just the thing.
The car was loud, but the inside was air tight. When the music turned on, the motor sounded more like a kitten's purr than a powerful engine.
He pulled out onto the street. "So tell me about the brand spanking new wedding dress, and I sure as heck hope it has to do with spanking and not with you having to call off a wedding."
"Nah, it's not a good story to start off with. Tell me about yourself. What do you do at Plaything?"
"Me? I guess you could say I'm the face of the company."
"Well, that explains the success."
"Thank you, but there's more to it than just this face. Or, at least that's what I keep telling Trey and Zane. I'm in charge of public relations, so there is a certain amount of charisma that goes along with the face."
"Ah yes, of course. Good looks, charisma and only a smidgen of humility. But I guess you probably hear about your looks so often, it would be hard not to let it go to your head."
Once we were on the freeway, Chase could take his hand off the shifter. He leaned back and draped his other hand over the steering wheel. "No, it really hasn't. Sometimes I feel like I have to keep up this cocky demeanor because everyone expects it of me, but I'm just a regular guy who wakes up with beard stubble, messy hair and morning breath just like everyone else.
I stared over at him. "Since I'm now picturing you with beard stubble and messy hair—I'll leave the morning breath out—I'm finding your argument almost laughable. I can only assume that beard stubble on that jaw line and that shiny black hair mussed up looks nothing short of breathtaking.”
"I'll take a different route then. Growing up, I had three brothers, each one bigger than me. I was the twerp of the family. When shit went south, like the time we tried to barbecue a pillow, I always ended up taking the blame. If I didn't, my brothers would give me noogies and purple nurples. My dad's punishments were much less painful."
"And your mom?"
"She died of cancer when I was six." The tone of his voice changed dramatically. "She was sick for a good portion of my time with her."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Well, it seems your dad did a good job on his own."
A laugh shot from his mouth. "He'd probably debate that point. At least he would have when we were growing up. But now, we've all done pretty well, so I think he's proud."
"I'll bet. And how does barbecued pillow taste?"
He shook his head once. "Can't tell you that. It went up in a toxic puff of smoke. Glowing feathers floated all over the yard, setting fire to a few of the dry bushes we had surrounding the yard. Almost lost the house. And, of course, my brothers had used my pillow, so I had to fold up a towel to sleep on."
Chase pulled off the freeway and headed towards a long road leading up a hillside that was dotted with large houses. I gazed out the window, watching as the city lights fell away. It seemed like a strange location for a restaurant. It was even stranger when Chase pulled up to a large house sitting at the top of a hill. It was a beautiful house with a turret and stone work that made it almost castle like. Dark ivy snaked along much of the facade. It was a new house built to look genuinely old, and the architect had done an amazing job.
"This is a house," I noted unnecessarily.
"Yep. I bought it for my dad and his new wife. They are in Europe for the month."
Chase parked at the top curve of a circular driveway.
"But you mentioned an Italian restaurant."
"Right. The chef is a friend. He delivered the food earlier. We just have to heat it up."
I sat still for a second after he opened the passenger door. "Are you mad? I thought it would be a nice, quiet place for a first date."