“Did they set a date?”
“Yeah, for early October.”
“Why so soon?” I ask, surprised. That’s only a couple months away.
“Who knows? This is my sister we’re talking about. She said her whole life she wasn’t interested in getting married, then she falls for a guy and now she can’t get married fast enough.” He frowns and pulls the car into a parking garage.
“Maybe she’s just ready to get married.”
“I guess.”
“Don’t you like Nate?” I ask and turn in my seat to watch his face.
“I do. He’s a good guy, and he obviously loves my sister.” He backs into a parking space and I smile widely at him.
“What?” he asks.
“So, you’re just being an overprotective big brother then?” I tease him.
He frowns and then grins. “Yeah, can’t help it.”
“Jules is good, Will.” I pat his thigh and he captures my hand in his and kisses my knuckles, one by one, and just like that my stomach clenches and my breath catches and I wonder how the fuck I’m going to hold out for two more dates.
“Your fingertips have little callouses on them,” he murmurs.
“It’s from the guitar.”
His blue eyes meet mine. “I’d love to hear you play sometime.”
“Sometime,” I respond and grin.
“I love that dimple in your cheek.” He leans in and kisses my dimple softly once, then again and backs away, still clutching my fingers, to pin me with those fiercely blue eyes. “Do you feel this too?” he whispers.
“Oh, yeah,” I immediately respond. It’s futile to deny it. I want him so much it hurts.
“Good. Come on, I’m hungry.” Will climbs out of the low car and briskly walks around to the passenger side, opens my door, and offers his hand to help me out.
“I seriously love this car.”
“I’ll let you drive it home,” he replies and links our fingers together.
“Seriously?” I gape up at him as he leads me down to the street.
“Sure, why not?”
“It’s a Shelby.” I state again, slowly, so he can understand the words coming out of my mouth.
“Honey, it’s just a car.”
“It’s a Shelby.” I shake my head. “I’m not driving it. If I wreck it, I can’t afford to replace it.”
“Do you get into many car accidents?” He narrows those eyes down at me and I giggle.
“No. But with my luck, this would be the time.”
“You’ll be fine. Besides,” he winks down at me, “I have insurance.”
He’s so confident. His voice, the way he walks, the way he carries himself. So confident.
And sexy as all get out.
That ass alone should be illegal.
But I really love his shoulders and arms. He’s perfectly sculpted, shoulders are broad, arms so strong. Hell, he lifted me like I was nothing.
And, thinking about that makes me go wet again.
Calm down, Meg. This is only Date One.
He’s led me into a sports bar in downtown Seattle. I recognize it. It’s upscale, full of professional sports memorabilia, televisions on various sports shows and games, and large, dark furniture.
Given the time of day, the place is pretty full of business men and other locals unwinding after a long workday.
Will leads me to a booth and sits opposite of me.
“Have you been here before?” he asks.
“A few times, yeah.”
“They make a good burger here.”
“You eat burgers?” I ask, surprised. I would think that with his rigorous training schedule he’d be on a strict diet.
“Not too often, but yeah, I do. I burn a lot of calories every day, so I pack a lot of food in.” He offers me a menu.
Instead of reading it, I gaze over at him and he meets my eyes. I run my eyes over his face, those broad shoulders and arms, and down to his long-fingered hands. He’s delicious in a gray t-shirt and jeans. When my gaze returns to his, his face is sober, his eyes molten blue, and I can’t tell if he’s pissed or just really, really turned on.
“Keep looking at me like that and the fucking three date rule will be out the window, Megan.”
Make that really, really turned on.
“Hey guys, what can I getcha?” A waitress sets waters down before us and takes out her notebook.
“What would you like?” he asks me without looking at the waitress, his eyes still on fire.
“Whatever you’re having is fine,” I respond and swallow hard.
“Two cheeseburgers with fries, please.”
“Hey, you’re Will Montgomery!” The waitress exclaims.
And before my eyes, Will transforms. He smiles his cocky smile, his eyes calm, and he immediately slides into celebrity mode. I’ve seen it on TV, but this is my first glimpse in person.
“How are you, sugar?” he asks her.
“I’m great. Good to see you again.” She winks at him and walks away, but our table is immediately surrounded by other patrons who overheard the waitress and now want to talk to Will and get his autograph.
“Hey, Montgomery! Great to meet you!”
And for the next fifteen minutes, Will doesn’t falter. He’s charming and smooth, answers questions, poses for pictures – many of which I’m asked to snap – and works the crowd in his arrogant, I’m-a-football-star way.