“Thanks again,” I tell Claire.
She waves away my words with a smile. “No problem.”
“Be good, Liam.”
He replies with an automatic, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Be good, Finn,” Claire says, pointing a finger at him in mock severity.
He doesn’t answer but gives me a wink that brings more color to my cheeks, I grab his arm and pull him toward the door, Claire laughing behind us.
When we get to Finn’s truck, he points back toward the house, a wounded expression on his face.
“I think I’ve been replaced,” he says. “By a cartoon and my baby sister.”
I laugh, climbing into the passenger seat. “Don’t take it personally. Claire’s got five pounds of junk food in that bag. We never stood a chance.”
◆◆◆
Finn takes me to a little family-owned steakhouse about a half hour away. I’d half expected him to take me to Mack’s. While I love his brothers’ restaurant, I’m glad he chose somewhere we’re less likely to be recognized. It’s not that I care if someone sees us on a date. I just don’t want any interruptions. I’m not ready to explain anything to anyone. Not until Finn and I decide what this is ourselves.
The lighting is soft inside the restaurant and it lends a sense of privacy to each table, which I like. The place is elegant without being too upscale.
“I’ve never been here before,” Finn says, taking his seat across from me. “I’ve heard good things though. I hope this is okay.”
I smile. “It’s perfect.”
We spend the next few minutes studying the menu without much talking. Our server arrives with glasses of water and we order our drinks.
After he leaves, Finn and I go back to studying the menus. The silence between us borders on awkward, but it’s as though neither of us is ready to break it. Or maybe we’re not sure how. I’m just about to open my mouth to speak when I hear Finn let out a loud sigh. I look up from my menu to find him looking at me.
“What?”
He sets his menu down on the table and leans toward me across the table. “I need to say something.”
“Okay,” I say, wondering where this is going.
“I’m sorry,” he says, surprising me. I thought we were past this. I feel the heat of anger flare through me. If he apologizes one more time for what happened between us, I may scream. I open my mouth to tell him just that, but he holds up a hand to stall me.
“Wait,” he says, smiling. “Hear me out.” When I close my mouth, he goes on. “I am sorry, but not for the reason you think. I'm sorry that I did things out of order."
A rush of memories floods through me and I have to fight off a blush. I’m pretty certain he’d done everything in exactly the correct order the other night. At my look of confusion, he explains.
"I should have asked you on a date years ago.” His voice is low, and he doesn’t look away from my eyes. “I should have sent you flowers and told you how beautiful you are. How amazing and funny and smart and sexy you are. Because I’ve noticed all those things for years, Hannah.” My breath catches in my throat. I can’t see anything but sincerity in Finn’s eyes as he looks at me. I don’t know what to say to that, but Finn goes on, keeping me from forming a response.
His expression shifts to something darker, possessive. I’m reminded of the way he looked at me in his office before that first kiss.
“I should probably tell you that our first time shouldn't have been up against the wall in my office,” he says with a grin. “But I'm not sorry about that. I wish I’d never apologized for that, because I did not mean it. It was incredible and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
I feel my face heat this time and look around to make sure no one at a neighboring table heard Finn. His words take me back to that night in his office and I remember his mouth on me, his hands gripping my hips. I feel myself grow damp at the memory and shift a little in my seat.
Finn gives me a knowing look. "Everything okay?" He asks with a crooked grin.
I reach for my water glass, taking a deep drink of the cool liquid.
"Fine," I lie.
He reaches across the table and takes my hand. His thumb strokes over my palm, somehow igniting a fire inside me with that small touch.
"So, tonight," he says, his voice still low and sexy. "I want to fix that. I want to start over. Sort of." He smiles. "I want to romance you. Charm you. Flatter you. Show you just how sexy I find you. And maybe later, if I play my cards right, make you come again while you scream my name."
I suck in a shaky breath at his words and the picture they paint in my head. I can't deny that I want that too. I want it more than I can say. Still, part of me holds back.
I decide to address the most obvious obstacle. "What about work? I don't want whatever this is to interfere."
"Neither do I," he says immediately. "We're both adults. We can keep work and personal separate, I think."
I raise a brow. "Really? Because two nights ago, we screwed like bunnies in your office after a work function."
"Touché," he says, stifling a laugh. "I guess it's a work in progress."
We fall silent as we both consider everything we’ve said. I don't know if we can separate what's happening between us from our work, but I know I don't want to give him up. Not at work and not outside of it. Now that I've had a taste of what we can be together, I want more.
"Okay," I say. "Let's give it a try."
He smiles and opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand.
"But," I say. "There are rules."
His eyes narrow. "I'm
