old clunker of hers, Rikki may have broken down on the way. He should have insisted on picking her up, but something in her tone of voice had made him back off and let her call the shots. He dug into his pocket for his cell phone and scrolled through previous incoming calls to find her number. Just about to dial, he glanced up.
Rikki stood in the restaurant entry in a whirlwind of color. From her gauzy layered skirt to the two-toned baby blue and brown vest top, she lit up the room. Copper-colored sandals that laced around her calves reminded him of a film he’d once seen on the Roman Empire. He smiled.
She quickly brushed her hair to fight off the windblown look and glanced his way. He pushed off from his barstool and walked closer. He adjusted his glasses to take a closer look at the pleasing sight.
There were no less than six bead bracelets on both of her wrists, alternating blues with browns, and a necklace of several strands to match just about anything in the world. His daughters loved to make their own jewelry with plastic beads, just like hers. And right now he could almost see her in one of Meg’s tiaras.
She blinked in recognition and her gaze skittered from his to around the lobby and back. In the upscale steakhouse, where women flaunted their highly insured gems, she stood out as “different.” Well, to hell with everybody. He liked how she looked.
Rikki’s quirky outfit tickled him. She was the most genuinely unique person he’d met in ages. A smile of admiration stretched across his face as he approached. Something about the intentional hint of brown lace from her bra peeking above her scooped neckline pleased him even more.
“Hi,” she said, with an insecure gaze upwards. “I had trouble finding parking.”
The expensive valet-only parking must have had her walking half a mile from wherever she’d left her car. Why hadn’t he thought about that? He should have put his foot down when she’d insisted she’d meet him here. No wonder she was late.
“No problem.” He reached for her hand and tugged her toward the hostess. “We’re ready for our reservation.” A surprisingly pleasant surge of energy started where he held her small, warm hand in his. He could get used to that.
She’d gone to trouble for him, and he liked the results. He glanced appreciatively into her delicately made-up eyes, more lovely than ever. Soft butterscotch waves tumbled over her shoulders, and she nervously used her free hand to flip her hair behind her shoulder. She smelled of citrus-infused lotion, and her tantalizing mouth glistened with lipstick, as if daring him to kiss her. Maybe he would…later.
Struck with a sudden urge to skip dinner and get right down to dessert, he swallowed hard.
“Your table is ready.”
“You ready?” He broke off his stare.
Rikki nodded. He gave her a gentle nudge at the small of her back to move her along.
Her dainty hips swayed as they snaked through the crowded and noisy restaurant to their table. He liked the swishing sound the skirt made and the natural herbal scent of her hair.
Content with the thought of sharing dinner with his intriguing date, he couldn’t help but think this could be the start of something. His mouth went dry and a quick response kept him from tripping on a chair.
When had been the last time he’d dared to think that?
Several patrons cast curious glances at Rikki. Maybe they thought she was some eccentric starlet, or a pop singer. Whatever their reasons for staring, she didn’t let it faze her. Instead, she held her head high and squared her shoulders until the hostess seated them. He liked her attitude.
Rikki had never felt more self-conscious in her life. She’d only seen restaurants like this in movies. Perfectly coiffed women and tailored men filled the tables. She even thought she saw an actor from TV in one of the booths at the back.
No gawking.
Her multiple foster-parents had frequently brought in children for the extra income, not purely out of the goodness of their hearts, and a place like this would never be in their budget. She and a few friends had once splurged and treated themselves to a swanky restaurant when they’d graduated from nursing school, but she honestly didn’t feel the food had been worth the price. She had her few favorite eateries, and they weren’t anywhere near this side of town.
Dane looked relaxed and in his element while he perused the menu. “I recommend everything except the seafood. Stick with steak tonight.”
“But I’m a vegetarian.”
He bore the look of a surgeon who had just amputated the wrong leg. He shook his head. “No wonder you’re so scra—er, tiny. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Bristling over his comment, she stared him down. “You never gave me a chance.” She closed her menu and put it on the table. “You didn’t give me a choice, or a say in where I’d like to go. You didn’t ask what I’d like to eat. You just said, ‘This is where we’re going,’ and ‘Be there.’”
Dane stiffened. He clutched the wine list and frowned, confused.
She saw the evening turning around the wrong bend, and that was something she couldn’t take. After all, it was her birthday. Didn’t she deserve a nice evening out?
She wanted things to be better than this, even though Dane had some explaining to do about the look he’d given her when he’d first seen her. Surprise? Horror? She wasn’t sure which. Well, get used to it, buddy, because this is me. I know who I am, how I dress, and what I eat. If he wanted to get to know the real her, she wasn’t about to pretend to be someone else.
Truth was, she wanted a chance to get to know Dane Hendricks too—a man who would most likely never have given her a second look if they’d passed on the street. For some odd reason she’d caught his attention at work, and now she’d like to see how long she could hold it.
“But that’s OK.” She smiled brightly, changing tack. “They’ve got lots of great side dishes and salads.” She picked up her menu again. “I’ll be fine.”
He studied her with a confused gaze a few seconds longer. “By any chance, do you drink wine? I was going to order a pinot…”
“Chardonnay?” She offered an apologetic smile. “I only like white wine. Sorry. But I can have tea, and you—”
“No.” He raised his palm. “Chardonnay it is. And for the record, I like petite women.”
Petite sounded a heck of a lot better than scrawny. Yeah, she knew what he’d meant the first time. But she’d give him a second chance.
Dane quickly made up for things. He became her hero when he withstood the snooty look the wine steward gave him when he ordered the bottle of white wine against the expert’s advice for a nice pinot noir. No two-buck house wine for him, which was Rikki’s usual choice when she was paying. He ordered the finest Chardonnay on the wine list. And he also suggested to the waiter that they should add a few more vegetarian entrées to their menu when they ordered their meal.
While they waited for their meal, Rikki skimmed her repertoire of conversational topics. The files were frighteningly thin when it came to holding her own with a man like Dane. What could they possibly talk about besides life at Mercy Hospital? An idea popped into her head. She adored kids. He had kids.
