“Hi,” he said, gifting her with a sexy grin that all but had her melting into her tiled floor. “You look amazing, Lauren.” His voice was velvety soft and full of welcome male appreciation.
“Thank you,” she said, her own voice a bit hoarser than it should have been, but then, it wasn’t often a girl had a man like this at her door, ready to take her to dinner while looking like he wanted to eat her for dinner. She stepped back into the hallway. “Come in.”
A moment later the door was closed, and they stood toe-to-toe, the scent of him, spicy and male, wrapping around her, teasing her senses. Delicately, she cleared her throat. “I should get my purse.”
“It can wait,” he said, his hands settling around her, pulling her close. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you all afternoon.” He nuzzled her neck. “So, can I?” His lips brushed her ear. “Can I kiss you, Lauren?”
Her hands settled on his shoulders and she laughed softly, surprised yet again by this man. She didn’t remember Roger, or any of the other men she’d dated for that matter, ever making her smile this much. They darn sure didn’t make her warm all over like Royce did. “You’re asking? After last night?”
With an easy step, he managed to back her against the wall, spreading his legs and pinning her with his body. “Last night was driven by champagne and emotion. Tonight is just about you and me.” His eyes were hot, his voice warm, gentle. He leaned toward her, intending to kiss her, and she couldn’t wait. She lifted up on her tiptoes to meet him halfway, but he didn’t let her have his mouth. He pulled back just enough to tease her with what might have been, what she hoped would be, and asked, “Is that a yes?”
Lauren responded by reaching for his mouth with hers again. This time he didn’t stop her. At first he didn’t move, and for the briefest of moments, she felt nervous about her actions. But she’d come this far last night, tonight. No way was she backing down now. Instead, she pressed into him, wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her tongue across his bottom lip in a sensual move that, to her delight, made him moan.
Suddenly, he was devouring her mouth, kissing her as if he were trying to possess her. And God, she wanted to be possessed. Her hands went to his waist, and she tried to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t move. He nipped her bottom lip and pressed his cheek to hers. “Dinner first,” he said and this time, he sounded hoarse, his voice raspy with desire. “Then… we’ll talk.”
She jerked back and he laughed. “You have a real thing about talking, don’t you?”
He kissed her. “Get your purse and let’s go eat. Wait. I mean please go get your purse so we can eat.” He grinned. “I did say I’d work on the bossy thing.”
She laughed. “Yes. You did. And good thing you added that ‘please’.” She turned on her heels, and headed to the bedroom, thinking that she might let Royce give her an order or two under the right circumstances, under the most pleasurable of circumstances. She smiled and snatched her purse, heading back to where Royce waited, looking forward to both dinner and what came after dinner in a way she hadn’t looked forward to anything in a very long time.
***
Thirty minutes later, with her arm linked with Royce’s, Lauren walked into the door of "Eden" and stopped at the hostess booth. Her gaze traveled the dimly lit restaurant, decorated in rich green colors with plants running around high ledges that lent to the tropical-island ambiance, that Royce said he couldn’t wait for her to try.
“It’s such a cool place,” she murmured after he put their name on a list.
“I thought you’d like it,” he said, but before he could continue they were greeted robustly by a friendly thirty-something couple, with a baby on the way, who not only obviously knew all three of the Walker brothers well, they owned the restaurant. With energetic, friendly conversation surrounding her, and Royce frequently touching her, Lauren felt a new kind of warmth fill her. She was realizing the significance of his actions. He’d brought her to a place that was so clearly a part of his life, after he’d taken her to his apartment and invited her to be nosy.
“Let me get you two a table,” Shannon, the wife, a pretty, petite brunette, every bit of eight months pregnant, said before she grabbed two menus and motioned for them to follow her.
“Don’t let Royce get out of line, Lauren,” John, Shannon’s husband a tall blond who looked more lethal weapon than the lethal chef she’d been assured he was, warned. “Bust his chops freely. You have my permission.”
Lauren laughed and exchanged a look with Royce who quickly explained, “I call him ‘Shannon whooped.’ He doesn’t like it.”
Shannon rubbed her belly. “Oh, he likes it.”
Lauren laughed again, pretty sure her cheeks were going to hurt if this night continued as it was, something that normally only Julie and a rare girls’ night out, could do for her.
Shannon led them down a hall to a private dining area and circular booth, waving them forward. “Our VIP seat.” Once they were seated, Shannon placed the menus on the table. “Enjoy.”
Lauren reached for her menu, when Shannon’s gaze caught on her wrist. “What a gorgeous watch.”
“Oh,” Lauren said, wondering why she’d worn the darn thing. “Thank you. A gift from my father.” And that recognition of her father she’d just delivered, was probably why he gave her the flashy diamond studded piece of jewelry, she thought. The gift, the many gifts, weren’t about her at all. They were about making himself feel, and look, like he cared, even if his actions said otherwise. A point driven home today quite clearly. She’d left his house obviously upset, claiming to be sick, and he hadn’t even called to check on her.
Royce’s hand slid to her leg under the table, and her gaze met his. Her chest tightened at the understanding in his expression, at the awareness that somehow, she’d let emotion seep into her reply to Shannon in a way she normally would not, and he’d noticed. The sincere concern she saw in his eyes touched her, while the contrast it held to the insincerity of her father’s gift clawed at her.
“Well it’s spectacular,” Shannon said wistfully and glanced at Royce. “Give me one of those as a gift and we’ll talk about me working at Walker Security.”
Royce chuckled. “None of those in my arsenal, but I have a desk and sturdy chair with your name all over them.”
She snorted. “You really don’t know the way to a girl’s gun, I can promise you that.”
A waitress appeared with a bottle of wine. “From John,” the woman said, and set two glasses in front of Royce and Lauren.
“I’ll leave you two to enjoy,” Shannon said and smiled at Lauren. “Nice to meet you, Lauren. Maybe next time we can chat more.”
A few minutes later, Lauren and Royce sipped a rich, sweet red wine, each having ordered a pasta dish. “What was all that about Shannon’s gun and your desk and chair?” Lauren asked.
“The restaurant is really John’s baby. Shannon’s an FBI agent I used to work with, and a damn good one, at that. We’d be lucky to get her for Walker Security. And it would be a safer job for her too, which is why John wants her to leave the agency. I can control what jobs she gets and watch her back. And I can make sure the job doesn’t destroy her family. The Agency won’t do that.”
“Do you ever regret leaving the Agency?” she asked, sipping her wine.
“Not once in two years,” he said, but she didn’t miss the sudden flex of his jaw muscle or the tightness of his voice. “I had some bad stuff go down at the Agency and by the time it passed, I was one foot out the door.” He sighed and tapped his fingers on the table, as if drumming out tension. “Right about the time I was contemplating leaving the agency, Blake lost his fiancée in an undercover ATF mission. He was ready to go vigilante and there’s no good in that. I needed something to distract him, a way to keep him under thumb, and Walker Security was born. Truth be told, I suspect Blake’s walk through hell was the real reason Luke went civilian. Otherwise, I think he would have been a career Navy, like our father was career Army.”