She smirked at him, shaking her head, and he held out the bouquet of flowers he’d brought for her.
“Chase, what are you doing?” she sighed, taking them from him as she lowered her face to inhale their scent.
“Bringing you flowers.”
She looked at him over her shoulder as she turned to walk into the kitchen. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her voice both appreciative and reprimanding.
“Of course I didn’t. But I wanted to. There are a lot of things I want to do for you tonight, and I’d appreciate it if you’d just let me.”
Andie lifted her brow slightly. “Fair enough,” she said with a smile, laying the bouquet on the island counter. “Let me just put these in water and we can get going,” she added, turning around and standing up on her toes as she reached above the cabinet for a vase.
As she extended her arm, her lower back arched slightly, giving him an amazing view of her from behind, and he groaned softly.
Andie cocked her head over her shoulder, catching the way he was looking at her. “Well now, that’s a little bit forward for a first date, don’t you think?”
He laughed quietly, looking away from her. “You’re making this hard, Andie.”
“Pun intended?”
Chase laughed again before he straightened his expression and turned toward her, pointing at her in a playful warning.
She smiled and held her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay,” she said as she began arranging the flowers, and Chase watched her, her hands moving with precision, coming up every so often to tuck a strand of blonde silk behind her ear. Her brow was creased in concentration as she pursed her lips, fussing over the arrangement.
He’d seen her in an evening gown, he’d seen her in a T-shirt and jeans, he’d seen her in sweats, and he’d seen her in nothing at all; she never disappointed.
“Okay,” she exhaled, turning toward him. “I’m ready. At least, I think I’m ready. Is this okay? I wasn’t sure where we were going.” She gestured at the fitted sweater dress she wore over tight brown leggings.
“It’s better than okay,” he said. “And if this wasn’t our first date, I could find some other colorful adjectives to describe the way that sweater fits you.”
The corner of her mouth lifted in a smile. “I appreciate your gentlemanly restraint,” she said, grabbing her purse and planting a soft kiss on his lips as she walked past him to the door.
They walked down to his car and he opened the door for her, earning him another smile. He knew she was finding humor in his behavior, but he didn’t care. When he was interested enough in a girl to take her on a date, this is how he would treat her. Shouldn’t it follow then that he’d do at least that much for the girl he loved?
“So,” he said, sliding into the driver’s seat. “How were your parties today?”
“They both went really well,” she said. “The man they were holding the retirement party for was the cutest old man I’ve ever seen.”
Chase laughed.
“I’m serious. He must have been about seventy years old, and he was just fluttering around, thanking everyone for coming, for making his life so enjoyable. And he kept dancing,” Andie said, looking over at him with a smile. “He called all the waitresses darlin’ girl.”
“He sounds like my grandfather,” Chase said. “I used to spend a week with him every summer until I turned sixteen. He called any woman that crossed his path sugar, and I swear, he got a blush or a giggle almost every time.”
Andie smiled. “That’s adorable. Why did you stop going to see him?”
Chase’s expression straightened. “My dad wanted me to spend my summers working. To stop ‘living the life of Riley,’ as he put it.”
“How could visiting your grandfather possibly translate into you being spoiled?” she asked, and he shrugged.
“I have no idea. It wasn’t my dad’s father, it was my mom’s. So I guess my dad didn’t give a shit whether I got to see him or not.”
Chase looked over to see Andie’s face; there was the saddest expression in her eyes, and he smiled softly, reaching up and running his thumb over her cheek.
“Don’t look so sad. I had a lot of good years with him. He taught me a lot.”
“Like what?” Andie said softly, shifting in her seat so she rested her head on Chase’s shoulder. “Tell me about him.”
Chase smiled at the memory of his grandfather as he turned them down a side road. “Let’s see,” he said. “He taught me how to change a flat. He taught me how to make spaghetti.” Andie giggled next to him and Chase grinned, turning to plant a quick kiss on the top of her head. “He always used to tell me, ‘Remember, Chase, being a gentleman not only applies to how you treat your lady, but how you treat the people around you.’”
“So sweet,” Andie said softly.
“He also told me I should never get into a fist fight with an ugly person because they have nothing to lose.”
Andie burst out laughing, and Chase smiled as his favorite sound filled the car.
A few minutes later, Andie sat up and looked out the passenger window. “Where are we going, by the way?” she asked as Chase slowed the car on a side street, pulling into an open space.
“It’s a little restaurant I found a while back,” he said, cutting the ignition. “Kind of undiscovered. I think you’ll like it.”
He exited the car and walked quickly around to her side, opening her door and extending his hand to her.
“Thank you,” she said, stepping out onto the sidewalk, her eyes combing the street, and he saw the little crease form between her brows.
“It doesn’t look like much,” he said a little uneasily, beginning to second-guess his decision to bring her there. He’d been there more times than he could count, but now, he looked at the building and realized how it would probably look to someone else.
There was nothing residential or even commercial on this street; it looked like the back of a warehouse. The building itself was brick, the windowless door they stood in front of covered in chipped, maroon paint. Just above it was a tiny neon sign that said “El Hueco.”
She straightened her expression, smiling over at him. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I trust you. I just never realized there was anything on this street. What does El Hueco mean?”
“I’m not sure.”
“How did you find this place?”
Chase laughed quietly. “That’s another story for another time. Certainly not a first-date story,” he said with a wink, putting his hand on her lower back as he opened the door and guided her inside.
They walked into a dark corridor, and Chase could hear the faint sounds of music coming from the room they could not yet see.
“Are you sure it’s open?” Andie asked, her voice quavering slightly as she clutched his hand in the darkness, and he smiled, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“It’s open,” he said, walking ahead of her and pulling her gently behind him. “Follow me.”
They reached another door, heavy, black, and windowless, and Chase reached out, gripping the handle and pulling it open. Immediately, they were assaulted with the light coming from inside, the upbeat Mexican music, the smell of pico de gallo and guacamole and lime and chili peppers.
It was a small room, about eight hundred square feet, with a concrete floor and a handful of tables set up in the corner. There was a wooden bar along the left-hand side, painted bright green with different colored barstools lined up in front of it. The walls themselves were a deep red, with the exception of the far wall, which was a huge, colorful mural of some small Mexican town. From the ceiling hung multi-colored lanterns and strings of lights, and tonight, in the empty space between the bar and the tables, two couples danced what Chase assumed was the salsa, their feet and hips moving so quickly and fluidly that it was almost hard to follow.