“No.” Her eyes widened. “No. That’s not it at all. No boyfriend, no one. I just didn’t want to cause any problems for my job, or for yours.”
He seemed to relax. “Okay. Look, we’ll be spending all our time together while we’re here. It’s just natural that we’ll go out to eat together, and if I want to kick back and have some fun, I just assumed you’d want to get out of the house and come with me. You’re under no obligation to do so. If you don’t want to, I’ll get you back here and go about my business. Fair enough?”
“Definitely.”
She went into her bedroom to change clothes. That exchange had been awkward, but it had been her doing. Garrett didn’t see anything strange about hanging out with her. As far as he was concerned, she could be just another one of the guys.
In a dress.
She changed into a short-sleeved cotton dress and slipped on a pair of wedge sandals, then glammed it up a little with makeup and pulled the sides of her hair up in a clip, some of the tendrils spilling over and curling toward her face. She added earrings and a bracelet, for some reason needing to feel feminine, though she had no idea why. Maybe so he wouldn’t think of her as just one of the guys tonight.
Really bad idea, Alicia.
Ignoring that warning voice in her head, she left the bedroom and found Garrett on the back deck. He’d put on a pair of worn jeans and a long-sleeved button-down shirt. Even dressed casually, he took her breath away. So she inhaled another breath and let it out, determined to think of him as just one of the guys.
A really sexy guy she couldn’t touch except in a therapeutic way.
“Ready when you are.”
When he turned around, she caught the telltale appreciative look he gave her, and she couldn’t help but tingle all over.
“You look . . . really nice,” he said, giving her a head-to-toe once-over. More than once, actually.
“Thank you. So do you.”
He laughed. “Just jeans and a shirt.”
She looked down at herself. “Just a dress.”
“Women are prettier.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I have a much finer appreciation for men than I do for other women.”
“Good to know.”
She grabbed a shawl, and they climbed into the car. Garrett drove them along the beach highway. Alicia squinted to get a look, but it was too dark now.
“It’s too bad the sun’s already gone down,” Alicia said.
“Yeah? Why?”
“I would have liked to see the ocean.”
“We’ll be here for a while. I’ll take you out for a drive one day along the beach.”
She pulled her gaze away to look at him. “I’d like that. I love the ocean.”
“Me, too. I love taking beach vacations.”
“It’s my favorite kind of vacation. I guess because I’ve always been landlocked.”
“There’s the river in St. Louis.”
She snorted. “Not about to stick my toes in that, thanks. My idea of a vacation is warm weather, a beautiful blue ocean, and sand under my feet.”
“Ever been to the Caribbean?”
“I’ve never left the US.”
He glanced her way. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“You should fix that. There are a lot of beautiful places outside the US.”
“I always intended to go. I’ve just been busy with school and then getting a job after that.”
“Ever been to Hawaii?”
“No, not there, either. But hey, I’m here, and this is great.”
He frowned. “This isn’t a vacation, as you told me today.”
She let out a quiet sigh of contentment. “There’s a beach and an ocean. It’s close enough.”
He made a turn, then pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. The valet parked the car, and they went inside.
The restaurant was nice. Warm atmosphere, and oh, she could smell the bread already. Her stomach rumbled in delight.
The menu was extensive, and she had a hard time choosing.
“Would you like some wine?”
She looked up from the menu. Garrett was perusing the wine list.
“I’d love some wine.”
He handed the list over to her. “I’ll let you choose since I’m not a big wine drinker.”
“Thank you.” She went over the list, and when the waiter showed up, she selected a Chianti.
“Is that good?”
“I’m a traditionalist. I grew up having Chianti with my pasta.”
He cocked a brow. “As a kid?”
She laughed. “Actually, some Italian families do serve wine to their children, in moderation and mixed with white soda. I had some at an early age. My mother is very old-style Italian.”
“Interesting. I think I’d like your mother.”
She smiled. “She’d definitely like you.”
“Why’s that?”
“You’re an athlete, for one. She loves big, athletic guys. With appetites. Like my brother, Cole. And you like to eat. My mother loves people who love to eat.”
“So, my secret is out, after such a short time together.”
“I’ve been around you long enough to know that during your therapy, you’re always complaining about wanting to stop so you can get something to eat. Or was that just an excuse to get out of doing your exercises?”
He reached for the bread as soon as the waiter put it down on the table. “No, I’m always hungry.”