Because he already loved her. He knew that now, and even better? He wasn’t scared of it. Or of her. And by the end of the night, she would know just how much she meant to him.
His hands ached from his tight grip on the steering wheel. He forced his fingers to relax. “I thought we’d go to my hotel and drop off your bag, then go out to dinner. Sound good?”
“Sure.” She fidgeted with her purse strap. “Are you sure Erica and Jeremy are okay with the kids?”
“Yeah. They’re fine, sweetheart. You need to relax,” he said. “Maybe we’ll grab a little scotch at the room before we go.”
She nodded. “I’m just…nervous.”
“Why? We’ve been on dates before. Nothing new.” He rolled to a stop at a red light, ignoring the real reason she was nervous. He was nervous, too. “Only difference is we’ll have longer. And be alone all night.”
She paled. “Yeah.”
What if she was worried he was going to attack her as soon as they got upstairs? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d have done so. Maybe she was nervous about what he expected of her tonight. “Hey. We’ll go as slow as you want. Nothing has to happen and we can just relax. Hang out.”
His rampant state of arousal might not agree, but his libido could deal.
She nodded and drew a deep breath, but looked distracted. “Okay. Sounds good.”
Fuck. “Great.”
The light turned green, and he hit the accelerator. He spent the rest of the ride convincing his body to calm down and accept there might be no Brianna tonight.
It refused to listen.
He pulled into the hotel parking lot, stopped the truck, and slipped around to help her down from the passenger’s side. As they approached the room, the slight breeze wafted her perfume to him. Did she have to smell so damned tantalizing?
He held his breath and opened the door. “After you.”
“Thank you.”
Even the sound of her voice rocked him off his feet. Desire plagued him, made his chest tight, his breathing short. He could barely manage coherent words. “This way.”
She gave him an odd look and bit her lower lip. She always did that when she was worried, but right now it was driving him mad. “Are you okay? You sound…different.”
“Me? I’m fine.”
He cleared his throat and pushed the elevator button. When they walked into the elevator, he couldn’t help but think of the last time they were here and what they’d been doing. Right there, in that corner, he’d kissed her. He tore his eyes from the wall.
“So. Um. If you want, I can give you a tour of my suite. Last time you were here, it was a bit…rushed.”
She flushed and fidgeted with her purse. “You could say that. So…you’ll be looking for somewhere to live soon?”
He watched her from the corner of his eye. Thank you, Erica, for bringing that up. He didn’t want to talk about that until after dinner. When he had her slightly tipsy, relaxed, and happy. Then he could ask…
He jumped when she poked him in the ribs. “Hello? You in there?”
He flushed. “Yeah. Sorry.”
She gave him an unreadable look, fidgeting with her strap. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Of course. I just—” He bit down on his tongue. Should he tell her he already requested to stay on permanently? His boss had been surprised at his change of heart but he had been too thrilled to question Thomas much. The ink was barely dry on the contract—but he was staying.
But did Brianna want him to stay with her? She’d been decidedly closed-mouthed about her feelings for him. And about their future…if they even had one. He had no idea what she was thinking or feeling. But tonight would be the night he found out.
The elevator let them off into the hallway. She kept stealing little glances at him, enigmatic and dark. He knew she was waiting for him to answer her question, but he wasn’t ready yet. His pounding pulse echoed in his head, washing out the sound of the air conditioning whirring through the vents. He fumbled with the keycard and opened the door to his room. The same door he’d slammed her against. Kissed her against. Taken her against. His c**k rose to life at the memories.
Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea.
“So…since they knew I’d be here for a while, MotoTek paid for a luxury suite. All the amenities of home, none of the cleaning responsibilities.” He half shrugged with a wry smile.
He led her into the richly decorated room, with its open layout that combined kitchen, living area, and bedroom, with a stunning view through floor-to-ceiling windows. A separate door led to the bathroom, complete with a hot tub that he’d love to—
Down. Rein himself in. Right.
“You mentioned scotch,” she said, her voice soft, throaty with an edge of…was that desire? Or was he imagining that?
He licked his dry lips. “Scotch. Sure.”
He crossed to the marble-tiled kitchen and poured two tumblers of scotch with shaking fingers, then pressed hers into her hand and settled down on the couch next to her. Her softness pressed against his side. The late afternoon sun fell over her hair. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the light play over the liquid golden strands, and a hollow need punched him in the gut.
Maybe he should just drink the whole damned bottle.
Her gaze lingered on a portrait photograph of Vegas, lit up at night. “Erica and Jeremy seem so nice. I was stressing all day at work, worrying they would hate me at first sight.”
He toyed a strand of her hair between his fingers. “Not possible. How could they not love you like”—he clamped his mouth shut and cleared his throat—“like they love each other? They’re very happily married.”
And that was a pathetic recovery.
“I can see that.” She stole a look at him but didn’t question his complete failure of a sentence. “Despite the fact that you seem to think you kept them apart.”
“I did keep them apart.”
“You have to stop blaming yourself.” She sighed. “Do you miss them?”
He hesitated. Did he miss them? Hell yes. But a few months ago, he’d been ready to relocate to California permanently just to be near family. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
And the reason for his change of heart was looking up at him with those beautiful tawny eyes.
“Yeah.”
She drew an invisible path on her knee. “Do you plan to move back out there one day?”