Tattooed Emotions Part 4

I pivoted to face her and paused. "Hey. What are you still doing here at this hour?"

Kate looked up at me and smiled. "I had to finish filing, and then I decided to stay and finish up some memos for Cale instead of taking my work home with me." She rose from her desk and organized her paperwork. "I'm pretty much done though. I like to be home before Noah finishes at the gym, so I can prepare dinner."

"Okay." I smiled, watching as she grabbed her purse.

Kate was a rare find. She was kind and thoughtful, someone who always went above and beyond.

When Kate came to my side, I dug in my bag to retrieve my keys.

"Noah and I are going out to dinner on Friday night. Would you like to come with us?" Kate asked.

I hadn't had a drink since the tumor. A night out sounded heavenly, and surely, a drink or two wouldn't hurt me. It had been far too long.

"Sure." I smiled at her. "That would be wonderful."

"Great!" She beamed. "Tell Iris to make some time for us, too! She always knows how to have a good time."

"Yes, she does." I laughed.

Kate and I exited the building, and I locked the door behind us. We turned right on the sidewalk and strolled to the end of the building. I was grateful that, during the summer, it was still light outside as we took another right down the alley toward the parking lot.

As we continued through the middle of the brick buildings, I was reminded that normally Kate, Noah, Cale, Sage, Iris, and I would all go out together. Since Cale and Sage were separated, I wondered how that would play out. I wanted to remain hopeful because Sage was also my friend.

"Are Cale and Sage coming?" I asked.

"Uh, no," Kate drawled on a humorless laugh. "I was trying to be optimistic that they both would still hang out with us until things took a nosedive for the worst yesterday."

"Oh," I replied, feeling equally out of the loop and disappointed. I really wanted Cale and Sage to work things out.

"Yeah, I don't picture the two of them being in a room together at the same time ever again."

I watched the pavement as I stepped around a pothole.

"But Noah and I are so excited to spend some time with you and Iris, if she can make it. It will be great. I promise."

"Can't wait," I said with excitement, missing the last gaping hole in the ground.

I glanced up to locate my car, and my steps faltered. Damien was standing in front of my red Chevy Malibu with his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark suit as he leaned casually against the driver's side door of my car.

A deliberately slow smile began to spread across his face, all the way until it revealed a small dimple at the corner of his mouth. My feet moved of their own accord, closing the distance between us. Those gray eyes pulled at me in a way that no words could describe. I heard Kate's voice talking to me, yet it was a dull background noise. My attention was completely rapt on the man before me...and that smile.

G.o.d, that smile. It was like he knew that he had me.

I stopped inches in front of him, and I was forced to look up at him. "What are you doing here?" I blurted out.

That crease at the corner of his mouth deepened, making my heart beat erratically. "Picking you up for our date."

"You said dinner," I corrected him. "And no, you're not. I politely declined several times."

Kate s.h.i.+fted on her feet at my left and cleared her throat. "Well, I'd better get going. See you tomorrow, Raelyn."

I tilted my head to offer her an apologetic smile. "Good night, Kate."

She scurried off and jumped into her car before peeling out of the parking lot. I almost laughed at her urgency. After the way she'd been curious for information earlier, she'd sure left in a hurry.

I could feel Damien's eyes burning into me. My pulse thrummed with an uncontrollable fervor as I gazed back at him. "We are not having dinner," I reiterated, unsure of which one of us I was trying to convince as I blindly fumbled with my keys. I grabbed the keyless entry fob to unlock my car. "Please move."

Damien stood to his full height and inched his way closer to me. It did nothing to calm my reaction to his proximity. I silently tried to relax, but my heart rate just kept accelerating. He lifted his hand and set it at the base of my chin. Ever so slowly, he tilted my head to meet his gaze.

"One dinner, Raelyn," he said gently, the depths of his grays penetrating me.

His touch sparked something inexplicable within me, but I quickly tucked that thought away.

"That's all I'm asking."

I wanted to say no so badly, so I could protect myself from the possibility of the unknown, yet the way he was looking at me challenged me not to.

"Okay," I found myself saying.

His eyes lit up with pleasure. It was a stunning sight to see.

"Okay," he repeated in agreement with a genuine smile.

He lowered his hand to grab mine and gave it a slight tug toward his Mitsubis.h.i.+ R8 as he told me, "Come on. I'll drive."

With my files still in my opposing hand, I motioned to my Malibu. "But my car is here."

"I'll drive you back afterward. I want you all to myself for a few hours."

If my body wasn't humming from our connection, I would have had the right mind to protest. He unlocked his car and opened the pa.s.senger door for me. I lowered myself into the seat, placing the files on the center of my lap, and then I put on the seat belt as he came around the vehicle and entered the driver's seat.

Damien turned over the engine. It purred to life with a masculine throaty sound. He set his hand on the gears.h.i.+ft and then hesitated. His gaze, dancing with amus.e.m.e.nt, wandered to the doc.u.ments on my thighs. "Do you always bring work home with you?"

"Yes," I admitted, suddenly feeling shy about my lack of a social life. My work was my life.

"So do I"-Damien grinned-"but not today."

He slowly reached over and grabbed the folders. The movement caused the sleeves of his dark suit and white s.h.i.+rt to slightly slide up his forearm, revealing a black tribal-looking tattoo that wrapped around his wrist and disappeared beneath his clothing. Before I could make out more of it, a rush of his minty breath hit my nose.

I held my breath as he said, "Don't worry. They'll be perfectly safe in my backseat."

He lifted his arms and rotated toward the back of the car where he gently lowered my paperwork onto the seat. I forced myself to focus on the dashboard when he gazed back at me, still invading my s.p.a.ce.

From the corner of my eye, I saw his grin widen. It was as if he was reveling in my uneasiness. He knew he affected me.

d.a.m.n him.

"Uh, thank you," I fumbled to say at last, failing to conceal my nervousness. I was two seconds away from melting into a puddle on the floor.

"You're welcome."

With his foot on the brake and his hand on the gears.h.i.+ft, Damien s.h.i.+fted the car into drive. The sports car moved forward smoothly as we headed through the parking lot for the main street.

"Do you have a preference on where we eat?" he asked.

I gazed sideways at him.

"Steak, Italian, seafood?" he asked.

"Italian sounds good." I was starving.

"Fine by me," he said, reciprocating my expression.

Damien pulled into Caro Mio and slowly drove to the front of the Italian restaurant. The building was made of natural stone, all earthy tones, with lights beaming down on the sidewalk. I was immediately thankful I'd worn a cream blouse and black pencil skirt with matching black heels to work today, appearing somewhat dressy for such an elaborate place.

Damien parked his car under the intricate archway at the entrance of the valet section. He reached behind him and pulled out a black leather briefcase before exiting the vehicle to come around to my side to open my door. He reached for my hand to help me out of the vehicle.

A young blond-haired gentleman approached and gave us a friendly smile. "Good evening, sir."

"Evening." Damien let go of me and discreetly tipped the gentleman.

In return, he gave Damien a green ticket. "Thank you, sir." The man nodded before walking over to the double doors to open one for us.

Damien gently took my hand again and guided it to his forearm to escort me inside.

I was instantly in awe of the two large marble pillars on either side of the front desk. The inviting warm-colored walls were covered in elegantly framed artwork.

"Good evening, Mr. Heathman," the woman standing behind the front desk greeted us and pointed to her left. "Ms. Livingston will seat you right away."

I was surprised to learn there would be no wait as Ms. Livingston beamed welcomingly at Damien and me.

Her s.h.i.+ny red hair and bright blue eyes glowed beneath the lighting. "Right this way, Mr. Heathman." She motioned for us to follow her.

Damien slowly led me along as we skirted around the main part of the dining section, and then we made a sharp right where we pa.s.sed through a wooden archway. It appeared to be a secluded area meant for private dining.

We were directed to the corner of the room next, pa.s.sing a large electric fireplace surrounded by black-and-gray slate tiles. The flames yellow glow illuminated the s.p.a.ce, and the heat radiating from it faintly heated my already warm skin.

Damien pulled out my chair for me, so I could take a seat. As he walked to the other end of the square-shaped table, he set his briefcase on the floor and sat down. I couldn't help but observe his every move. Each one of his purposeful actions was deliberate and controlled. His presence seemed to suck all the oxygen from the room, and I felt breathless when he finally stared over at me.

I tried my best to read his eyes. They were completely indecipherable, and their darkness drew me in, captivating me, as if calling to me.

He smiled a dazzling smile at me, and with just that look alone, my pulse changed speeds and beat wildly in my veins. Understanding he had a profound effect on me that I was powerless to control, I was desperate to make this meeting quick, so I could escape.

My throat closed with my qualms, and I swallowed before speaking. "So, you had something you wanted to share with me?"

"Not yet," he answered, methodically shaking his head back and forth, as he kept his gaze locked on mine. "Dinner first. Then, work."

Right on cue, the waitress appeared out of thin air. She positioned herself at the center of the table and gave Damien and me each a tall gla.s.s of water, smiling brightly between the two of us. "May I take your orders?"

I scurried for my menu and scanned the contents.

Damien replied without hesitation, "Yes, please. I'll have the chicken and shrimp carbonara with a salad, paired with a gla.s.s of your finest Cabernet Sauvignon."

The waitress scribbled on her notepad before glancing down at me. "And for you, ma'am?"

Since chicken sounded lovely and it was my favorite, I said, "I'll have the chicken alfredo and also a salad with extra ranch, please."

"And to drink?" she asked as she made another note.

Given I viewed this as a business meeting, I would normally refuse any kind of alcohol. But, tonight, with the way Damien's presence affected me, I decided one gla.s.s of wine might put me at ease. "I'll try the Cabernet Sauvignon as well."

"Of course. I'll be back with your salads and drinks in just a few minutes." Her smile was unwavering as she dismissed herself.

Uncertain of what to say to the man in front of me, I reached for my straw and set about removing the white wrapper. I placed the straw in my drink and then picked up the long paper to fold it over and over again. I felt like I was in high school on my first date again. Only, this time, I didn't have braces and untamed bangs. That was what this man did to me. He reduced me into a tongue-tied ma.s.s while b.u.t.terflies swarmed in my stomach.

The deep throaty tone of Damien's voice pulled me out of my wandering thoughts when he queried, "Extra dressing, huh?"

"Oh, yes. It's a must in my book." I grinned over at him. "It makes the lettuce go down smoother."

As a kid, I'd been forced to eat whatever was on my plate, which hadn't been adequate nutrition for a growing child. I was trying to remedy my lack of taste buds as an adult. Ranch or cheese always made food more appealing.

"I take it, you're not a fan of lettuce?" His brows rose in amus.e.m.e.nt, and his lips twitched.

"No." I laughed nervously, twisting the wrapper in front of me on the table. "Unfortunately, I never acquired much of a preference for any kind of vegetable. It's one of my faults." I inwardly rolled my eyes at myself, unsure of why I'd told him that last part.

"Faults? I can't imagine you have any faults." He grinned mischievously. It was a sight to behold, a much better sight to witness than his normal indifference.

"Oh, I have a whole list," I corrected him.

He thoughtfully tilted his head to the side. "Care to share?"

Normally, I wouldn't divulge those tidbits of information to anyone. However, maybe it could work to my benefit, and he wouldn't ask me out again.

"Hmm...let's see," I drawled teasingly as the waitress quietly delivered our salads and wine before leaving. "I'm a bed hog. I love to sleep in the middle of it. Laundry is my worst enemy."

The more I pondered, the more my list increased, so I continued, "I'm ridiculously OCD when it comes to cleaning even though I dislike it. The idea of something being out of place puts me on edge."

He lifted his wine and hovered the gla.s.s in front of his lips while his eyes sparkled over the rim at me. "There is nothing wrong with everything having a proper place."

"Maybe." I shrugged. "Sometimes, I wish I could let the mess be, but my mind won't tolerate it."

"So, what about the good?" He took a drink from his gla.s.s.

"The good?" I took a sip of my wine. It was fruity and slightly dry, but surprisingly, it went down smoothly.

"Yes. What are your strong suits?"

His question caught me off guard. It was harder than the first. I placed my gla.s.s on the table. "I'm organized and prepared. When I need to be somewhere, I'm always on time."