Lucie gasped and stepped away from him as her cheeks flushed to match her ruby just-been-kissed lips. Apparently the idea of his hand on her ass was just the image she needed to scare her into compliance. Or was it? Upon closer inspection he swore he saw glazed lust in her eyes. Could it be that his innocent Lucie had a little devil in her?
Fucking hell. Just the thought had him hardening behind his fly. He needed to get out of there. Fast. When he spoke, he was surprised by the gravel in his voice. “I won’t be long.” Then he spun on his heel and strode out to find the closest men’s store…and enough time to lose the hard-on he was currently sporting for his friend’s little sister.
Chapter Six
Lucie couldn’t remember a time when her nerves were more frayed. Her stomach felt so twisted inside out she thought for certain if she looked down she’d see a knotted mess where her normally flat abdomen should be.
Reid led her gently with a large hand at the mostly bare small of her back through the maze of restaurant tables until the hostess indicated which was theirs. After holding her chair while she seated herself, he walked around the linen-draped square table to his place across from her.
She marveled at how graceful he moved and how at ease he was in the expensive clothes he’d bought for their evening out. His white, fitted dress shirt hugged his frame, clinging to his muscles with every movement. And even though they were at a five-star restaurant, she loved how he didn’t completely pander to the dress code, leaving the top few buttons undone and leaving the shirt untucked over dark dress jeans.
With his hair brushed forward and up, creating that hint of a peak down the centerline of his head, and his tattoos faintly visible through the material of his shirt, he was the epitome of a bad boy out on the town. The exact opposite of her taste in men. And yet somehow she found him utterly delectable.
Just like his kiss.
Lucie quickly picked up her menu to hide the heat flooding her face at the memory of his lips on hers. She knew he’d done it just to shut her up—that there’d been nothing sexual about it for him—but the moment his mouth touched hers the world around her became hyperfocused to exist solely on his lips. Her reaction to such a small, intimate gesture had startled her, to say the very least.
“So what are you in the mood for?” he asked.
Clearing her throat as delicately as possible she lowered her menu and picked the first thing she saw. “Chicken Marsala sounds good.”
“That does sound good, but I’m more of a steak man.” The waiter approached and asked for their drink order. “I’ll have a whiskey sour and my sister would like a bottle of your Moscato wine, please.”
The waiter couldn’t have been any older than twenty-two to her twenty-nine, but he gave Lucie an inviting smile, winked, and said, “My pleasure. I’ll be right back with your wine.”
Stunned, Lucie waited until he was out of earshot before she spoke. “If it’s so embarrassing to be seen with me in a place like this, you shouldn’t have brought me.”
The hand holding his water glass froze halfway to his mouth and his brows drew together. “Why in the hell would I be embarrassed to be seen with a beautiful woman?”
“Yeah, right.” She snorted and busied herself with unfolding the dark napkin from its impossible origami-style design. Why did restaurants want to make a person feel inept before their drinks even arrived? “I see the types of girls you and Jackson date. They’re the MMA’s equivalent of the rodeo buckle bunnies. Big-breasted bombshells who probably hold master’s degrees in Bedroom Acrobatics.” After placing the finally unfolded napkin in her lap, she looked up to see Reid still had the audacity to look perplexed. She sighed and explained, “You made it a point to call me your sister in front of that waiter because you don’t want your dating stable tarnished with a Plain Jane like me.”
Lucie swore she heard him actually growl and if the look on his face was any indication, it seemed as though she may have indeed poked the sleeping bear. “Let’s get one thing perfectly clear,” he said, setting his glass down. “I don’t want to hear the term Plain Jane in reference to you ever again. Any man, myself included, would be proud to have you on his arm.”
Though she recognized his reaction as a protective thing, much how Jackson would have been, the conviction in his voice touched her…until another thought reared its ugly head. Stephen doesn’t see it that way.
As if reading her mind, he added, “And soon that doctor of yours will get his head out of his ass and realize it, too.” He paused to flick his napkin into his lap without any trouble. “But for now, you need to flirt shamelessly with the waiter.”
“What?” she stage whispered while leaning over the table. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m dead serious. Did you see the way his attitude toward you changed the moment he found out you weren’t my date? He damn near drooled on our table.”