“Dinner?” he asked Lock.
“Is that a problem?”
“Not at all.”
Grabbing two menus from the hostess, he motioned them past the extremely long line of those waiting to be seated, through the packed dining room, and into the back. She knew she was dressed badly, but were they going to have to eat in the alley?
It seemed, however, that the Van Holtz flagship restaurant was more than a dining room and a kitchen. It also had a huge reception hall, and several private dining rooms in the back.
As they passed one of the bigger dining rooms, Lock abruptly stopped, his head lifting, his nose casting for a scent. “Were my parents here?”
Ric stared at him for a long moment before finally answering, “Yes. Earlier. For dinner.”
“My parents came here for dinner? Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah. Why? There’s an IHOP down the road from their house. That’s usually all they need.”
“Um…your father was feeling…romantic.”
“What?”
“Frisky, might be a better word.”
“Okay, that’s enough. I don’t need to know any more.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. I do not need to hear about my ‘frisky’ father.”
With a shrug, Ric led them to a smaller private dining room with a small table and two chairs. Everything was draped in dark reds and browns, the furniture made of dark wood.
“Does this work?” Ric asked.
“Perfect.”
Lock held her seat out and Gwen stared at it. “What are you doing?”
“Would you get in the seat?” She did, since he snarled at her, and then he took his own seat.
Ric handed them both menus. “Whatever you want. Your waiter will be with you shortly.” He started to walk out and then said, “Oh. Wine?”
Lock and Gwen looked at each other and both shook their heads at the same time.
“Okay. Let me guess.” Ric studied Gwen before offering, “Sprite?”
She grinned. Shrugged.
And without looking at Lock said, “Big glass of milk?”
“Several.”
Shaking his head, Ric walked out. “An award-winning wine cellar at your disposal and you want milk. Philistine!”
The door closed and Gwen said, “What’s Ric’s full name?”
“Ulrich.”
Cute. “And last name?”
“Van Holtz.”
That’s what she’d thought! One of the richest and most powerful Packs in the world and Lock was best friends with one of the direct bloodline. “It never occurred to you to tell me that?”
Lock gazed at her. “Tell you what?”
And she got the feeling…he really didn’t have a clue what she meant.
Although Lock couldn’t shake the feeling Ric was hiding something from him, he would still remember this night as the best one he’d ever had at any Van Holtz restaurant. Perhaps the addition of Gwen had in fact made it his best night anywhere. Ever.
It didn’t take long for him to get out of her what had her so upset and even less time to get her to smile and stop thinking about it. He understood her frustration with her family, though. Understood it more than she realized. He also knew she was braver than him because she’d taken the leap while he was still working up the nerves and the cash.
But soon, instead of ruminating about their frustrations, they focused more on talking about their childhoods, swapping stories about growing up in Jersey and Philly. About his time working as a bouncer at one of the many bars on the Jersey Shore and her early days taking her school’s plumbing apart to see how it worked.
They had no idea how late it was until Ric finally stuck his head in. “Sorry to do this, guys, but we’re shutting down for the night.” That’s when Lock knew they were the last there; Ric wouldn’t toss him out unless they were.
So he took Gwen back to her hotel and they stood outside in the chilly night, the hotel still alive with activity, even at the late hour.
“Do you want to come inside for a drink?” she softly offered.
“No. No. No, no, no, no. No.”
Gwen stared at him. “One ‘no’ would have been clear.”
“Those ‘no’s’ weren’t for you. They were for me. I was simply saying them out loud.”
Smiling, her hands stuffed into the front pocket of her cargo pants, she said, “It seems like you’re fighting with yourself there, Jersey.”
“I am. Because I want to come up with you, but…”
“But…” she pushed when he didn’t go on.
“Something tells me not now.”
She blew out a breath and it was cold enough to see it. “Why not?”
“I have no idea where this is going, Gwen. But I’m not going to wake up tomorrow and find myself dismissed. And I think if I go upstairs with you now…that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”
“You’re that sure?”
“Yeah. I’m that sure.”
She nodded. “Okay. Then how about a date?”
Lock smiled. He couldn’t help it. “You’re asking me out?”
“I’m asking you out.”
“I’d love to.”
“Tomorrow? It’s Saturday.”
He winced. “I can’t tomorrow. Family thing at my parents’ house. Unless you want to—”
“For our first date?”
He shook his head. “Good point.”
“What about Sunday?”
“Sunday’s great.” And if it wasn’t, he’d make it great. “How about I pick you up here? Around one o’clock? We can get lunch, maybe catch a movie or something, and then dinner.”
“Perfect.”
“Okay. Sunday. One o’clock.”
“Sunday, one o’clock.”
Lock had no idea how long they stood there, grinning at each other like a couple of idiots, but when she turned to walk away, he snapped out of it.
Catching her arm, he pulled her back. “I said I wouldn’t go up with you tonight. I didn’t say anything about not getting another kiss.”
“Good. I was afraid you were going to leave me hanging.”
He leaned down and took her mouth gently, wanting to show her how much he liked her beyond the mere physical. But there was something about this woman that short-circuited every synapse he possessed. Because right there, in the middle of Manhattan, he pulled her close, his arms tight around her, his kiss moving from gentle to territorial in seconds.
And she gave it right back to him. Her arms so tight around his neck, an average shifter might be strangled, her mouth hot on his as their tongues met.
She was driving him crazy! How was this fair? And how was he supposed to make it until Sunday without seeing her again?
Pulling away and standing up straight, Lock let out a shuddering breath. “You’re trying to kill me.”
“Not yet,” she teased, stepping away from him. “But give me time.”
Her gold gaze moved over him, the tip of her tongue swiping across her top lip. Then she smiled and said, “Night.”
Without another word, she walked off, leaving him—and his hard-on—devastated.
Lock headed back to the sidewalk. He wouldn’t bother with a cab. He’d walk. The cold air would do him good and as late as it was, he never worried about anyone bothering him. Because no one ever did.
Well, except for…
“Hey, you bear son of a—”
Lost in thoughts of Gwen, the growling voice startled him and Lock spun around. Immediately the two lions stumbled back and Mitch shoved Brendon ahead of him.
“Take him!” Mitch ordered Lock.
Brendon glared at his brother. “What do you mean ‘take him’?”
“Well, bruh,” the lion explained, grinning, “I am the pretty one.”
“You betraying son of a bitch!”