“My guess was a trust-fund baby, or something similar,” he said. “You’re obviously wealthy.”
Holy shit.
I stared back at him. I took slight exception to what he said. Well, as much as I could, considering it was all true. “Oh really? Based on what?”
He leaned forward and locked eyes with me. “Well, you drive a Mercedes S550 Coupe. The shoe you lost by the door the other day was a Louboutin, and you’re sitting in Starbucks shopping at NET-A-PORTER on a Wednesday night. You’re single—or at least you do a damned good job of acting like it—and you’re wearing, oh, I’d say that’s about a one-and-three-quarter carat diamond on your wedding finger.”
I nervously covered my ring with my right hand and stared back at him in shock. Or maybe I was impressed. Whichever it was, I sat in my seat and glared at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.
He leaned away from the table and gestured toward my lap. “My guess is it’s to keep guys from trying to hit on you.”
I continued my openmouthed stare.
He paused and cocked an eyebrow. “How am I doing so far?”
Wow.
“How...” I shook my head in disbelief. “How’d you know what I drove?”
“You drove off in it the other day, remember?”
He was right. About everything. In spite of his observations, he still felt I was worthy of his time, and I appreciated it. With him driving a $100,000 BMW and dressing the way he did, it was obvious he wasn’t after me for my money, and I sure wasn’t after him for his.
I was after him for other reasons. And it appeared the list was growing.
“My dad bought me the ring. He said it would keep the creeps away. And, you were right about everything. That’s crazy that you caught all that.”
“I stay pretty conscious of my surroundings. Sometimes I think it keeps me from living a normal life,” he said.
“How so?”
“I develop opinions based on what I think, and not necessarily what I know to be fact. As far as I’m concerned, if I believe it, it is fact. So, I walk into a room, survey the people and the situation, and then make decisions based on what I see. Some might call it arrogance. I say it’s confidence. There’s only a hair that separates the two, you know.”
He was becoming more interesting with each passing minute.
The woman in me needed to know more. “So, what decisions or opinions or whatever did you make based on what you’ve seen with me? The other day when we met, and tonight?”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m positive.”
“Remember, I’m blunt.”
There was nothing he could say to scare me. I wanted to hear it, even if he was direct in his response. “I’m a big girl,” I assured him.
He smiled.
I relaxed and waited for him to express his opinion.
“First. Let me say this. I’ve never had much interest in being in a relationship. With anyone. In combat, it’s believed having a woman in your life will cause you to lose focus, and that lack of focus will get you killed. I realize I’m not in combat, but old habits die hard.”
My heart sank. I swallowed what little self-pride I had developed over the course of our conversation and slumped in my seat.
He studied me for a short moment, then grinned a guilty grin. “But. After I saw you the other day, I couldn’t get you out of my mind. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t. That night I drove back here hoping to see you. Then, I did the same thing the next few mornings. Hell, tonight I came here hoping to find you. There was something about you. I didn’t know what it was for sure at first, but I decided it was because you were an adventurous little bitch. And I liked thinking that. That’s what I thought on the day we met.”
He locked eyes with me, leaned against the edge of the table, and moved so close that I could taste his breath. “Tonight? Tonight I decided I want to devote a portion of the time and effort needed to eventually earn the right to watch you get dressed in the morning. And when that time comes—when I’ve finally earned that right—I want to sit back and enjoy watching you pull your panties over your thighs and up on your hips until you get them situated just right. Then, I want to watch you wrap your bra around your perfectly shaped breasts and reach around to clasp it while you’re watching me watch you.”
I may or may not have licked my lips. The temperature instantly rose thirty degrees. I pressed my knees together. It made matters worse.
I blinked.
He drew a shallow breath.
“And then I want to watch you button your shirt, pull your pants over those long legs of yours, and reach down for your heels. And then, Terra-I’m-sexy-as-absolute-fuck-Wilson, after you put on your heels...”