The Darkest Sunrise (The Darkest Sunrise #1)

I snapped my gaze back to his, a smile pulling at my lips. “Right? I almost fell asleep on him.”

He finally released my hand and took the menu from in front of me, moving it out of the way. “I’ll do what I can to keep you awake tonight. I retired from accounting a few years back.” He winked.

Shit!

I bit my bottom lip.

He chuckled. “Relax. I didn’t ask you to dinner for entertainment.” He dug into his pocket and retrieved a pen before writing something on a cocktail napkin. “I don’t need a song and dance. I said no faking it and I meant it. If you want to sit there and stare at the menu until you memorize it, I’m more than happy to sit here and watch you do it.” He flashed me a smile but kept his eyes aimed at whatever he was writing. Or maybe he was drawing? I couldn’t tell. “You want to talk, I’ll talk. You want to sit in silence, fine by me.” He finally slid the cocktail napkin toward me.

It was some kind of map. Arrows started at a small star at the top, continuing through the maze of lines before separating out into two different paths.

I was still trying to make heads or tails of his sketch when he folded his hand over the top of mine. A-GAIN!

What the hell was up with this guy and holding hands? I’d known Porter for less than twenty-four hours and I’d already had more physical contact with him than I’d had with anyone else in years.

“Charlotte, I would love it if you’d stay through the entire dinner. Maybe even through dessert and coffee too. But, if you decide to leave, I should warn you that there isn’t a window in the women’s restroom.” He remained serious as he pointed at one of the arrows. “Your best bet will be the emergency exit at the end of the hall.” He traced his finger across the napkin to the end of the other path. “Or the one at the back of the building.”

Covering my mouth with a hand, I tried to hide my smile, but it was a worthless attempt, especially when he grinned.

He continued. “Let me be the first to inform you. I’m boring too. And I haven’t been on a date in years. All kidding aside, you might need that map in an hour. But you’re beautiful. And smart. And, regardless of whether you think you are, you’re funny too. So I’m going to sit here for however long you’re willing to stay and hope like hell that cocktail napkin ends up in the trash.”

Jesus. Where did this guy come from?

We sat in silence, his left hand on top of my right, my heart racing, his gaze never drifting from mine, his blues locked on my browns.

When the waitress returned, she talked.

Porter answered.

But I sat there, reveling in the warmth that I hadn’t experienced since the chill of reality had devoured me.

“So, what do you say?” Porter asked as the waitress watched me expectantly.

“I’m sorry… What?”

“I asked if you were gonna stay long enough to eat?”

Damn it. I absolutely was. Porter might have wanted company in the darkness. But, with a single taste of the warmth, I wanted to bask in the sunlight.

“Depends. What kind of dessert do you have for after dinner?” I asked, turning my hand over to intertwine our fingers.

His eyes darkened as he purred, “Anything you want, Charlotte.”

“Chocolate cake?”

“World famous.”

Without a word, I crumpled his cocktail napkin map into a ball with my free hand.

He smiled. Mine was bigger.

“Okay, Megan,” he said to the waitress. “The lady will have the German Shepherd T-bone.”

A loud laugh sprang from my throat.

“What?” He feigned ignorance. “You seemed to like the Wagyu today. I figured we might as well stick with canine.”

“Uh…” the waitress drawled in disgust.

I laughed again. Real. Honest. Laughter.

And I felt it all the way down to the core of my soul.

That was the exact moment I should have realized Porter Reese was dangerous.

But I was too lost in his sultry eyes and his heart-stopping smile to give it a second thought.

For two hours, Porter and I talked, using actual words. And not a single one of them destroyed me. They were light and fun but no less life changing. It had been too long since I’d allowed myself a night like that. I turned my cell phone off, drank wine, and had a fantastic meal with an incredible man.

Porter kept his end of the bargain. He didn’t ask questions or cast any judgments.

And I kept mine by not faking a single smile. I didn’t need to. My cheeks were aching before I’d finished my salad.

For those two hours, the world kept spinning, only this time, I wasn’t frozen in place or sprinting to keep up.

Porter and I spun together.

At the end of the night, after a giant piece of chocolate cake with two forks and two cups of coffee, he walked me to my car.

Not surprisingly, he held my hand the whole way.

Definitely surprisingly, he brushed his lips against mine in an all too brief kiss.

And then, as I climbed into my car and waved at him from the wrong side of the windshield, that warmth didn’t just wash over me—it consumed me.





* * *





Porter: Did you make it home safely?

Me: I did. I just got into bed actually.

Porter: Funny you should mention that…how do you feel about tacos?

Me: In bed?

Porter: What? No! We’ve been on two dates. Do I look easy to you?

Me: You just said “Funny you should mention that…how do you feel about tacos?” After I said I just got into bed.

Porter: Ohhhh…see I thought you said, “I just got a burrito actually.”

Me: Uh…I typed it. I didn’t say it.

Porter: Fine! I didn’t have a good transition from bed to see if you wanted to go have tacos with me tomorrow.



I laughed and rolled to my side, kicking the covers off to combat the new warmth coursing through my veins.



Me: I don’t know. If you count the Spring Fling, that’s like four dates in two days.

Porter: I know. You can’t get enough of me. Don’t worry. I find it endearing.

Me: Well, that’s a relief.

Porter: Okay. Okay. You don’t need to beg. Yes, I’ll have tacos with you tomorrow at noon. I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy who can get us reservations at Taco Bell.



I smiled so wide I feared it would split my face.



Me: I knew dating a restaurateur would have its perks.

Porter: What can I say? I’m quite a catch. Now, say yes to lunch.

Me: Why are you always trying to force me into having meals with you?

Porter: Because if I left our dates up to you, we’d be eating tacos in bed. That’s at least a sixth-date kind of activity. Slow down there, Mills.



My laugh echoed off the bare walls of my bedroom. Closing my eyes, I sucked in a breath and sank deep into my bed.



Me: You’re right. My mind was clearly in the Mexican gutter. My deepest heartfelt apologies.

Porter: Forgiven. Listen, I just got a text from my guy who knows a guy who knows a guy and unfortunately Taco Bell is fully booked for tomorrow. However, he was able to get us a table for two at Antojitos.