“Wow. That really is saying something, coming from you.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, you’ve seen and done everything.” She squeezed his knee. “At least it seems that way to me.”

  He smirked, sending her a look. “I’m hardly as well-versed in life as you think I am. But I appreciate your confidence in me.”

  She leaned over the center console to plant a kiss on his cheek. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  Their car ride to the business district took about a half hour. They chatted and listened to music, but Michelle’s nagging feeling persisted. Something was off with him. She didn’t know what it was. Had no idea how to even ask him. But it was there.

  Once they pulled up to the restaurant valet, Blake went into celebrity mode as he handed off the keys—a certain type of cool, calm and collected persona that he had in public spaces. She supposed it came from his lifestyle—or at least the types of people he usually dealt with. At any rate, it was one of many things that fascinated her about Blake. She couldn’t keep the grin off her face as he escorted her into the restaurant on his arm, feeling every inch the VIP at his side.

  The restaurant they’d come to was simply called VINO and featured a trendy, modern layout inside—low, rectangular booths around boxy, artistic tables. The air smelled like the most drool worthy food, even though she couldn’t pick out a single, individual scent. Blake pressed a hand to the small of her back as they followed the hostess through the restaurant, winding between tables toward a back room adorned with potted palms and sconce lights.

  Inside, Blake’s friends waited. The two men came to their feet first, wrapping him in hugs and friendly claps on the back, and then their significant others headed his way for hugs too. Once they’d all greeted him, Blake turned to Michelle.

  “You guys, I have someone special I want you to meet,” he said, slipping his arm around her waist. “Her name’s Michelle.”

  Michelle bit at her bottom lip, heat creeping over her cheeks. It was mildly embarrassing, but she loved it at the same time. Blake introduced everyone one by one. His best friends offered their hands, but their partners—Mila and Jackie—pulled her into hugs.

  “It is so good to meet you,” Mila said, guiding Michelle toward her seat facing Blake across the long table. “Honestly, with the way Blake talked about you, I wasn’t entirely sure you were real.”

  “Oh, no?” She laughed as she slid into her seat, finding a glass of sparkling water already waiting for her. Jackie raised her hand to summon the waiter, who arrived at the table a moment later.

  “It’s our best friend’s birthday,” Grayson said, who sat in the middle between Daniel and Blake. “Bring us your most ostentatiously expensive wine.”

  Michelle snickered as Mila rolled her eyes.

  “Red or white, sir?” the server asked.

  “Red. No, white. Blake, why don’t you choose?”

  “Red,” Blake confirmed.

  The server walked off and the table of friends grinned at each other. And truly—already—Michelle felt like she was among friends. She’d met Grayson and Daniel before at the stadium, and their significant others were incredibly welcoming.

  “We heard you gave Blake an incredible birthday present,” Daniel said, smiling over at her.

  “It was a poorly made pineapple upside down cake,” she countered. “Hardly incredible.”

  “And homemade lasagna,” Blake countered. “And balloons, and all those sweet cards.”

  Michelle grinned at him. “Okay, yes. It was an incredible birthday.”

  “Blake never cares when I make him lasagna,” Grayson teased. “That’s how we know this is for real with you two.”

  Michelle laughed, looking over to Blake for his reaction. But he was fully focused on his phone, frowning.

  “What was that?” he asked, putting his phone aside.

  “Just saying that you never got all excited when I made you lasagna,” Grayson repeated.

  Blake snorted. “You haven’t made me lasagna a day in your life. And if you tried, it would come out so badly I wouldn’t even recognize it as lasagna.”

  The friends laughed, and Michelle watched as Blake returned to his phone immediately. She wondered who it was he was texting, or what could be so important that he’d let it distract him from his birthday dinner. The server returned then with their wine, pouring each person a generous glass.

  “So Michelle,” Mila said, grabbing her wrist. “We heard you’re a trainer for the Seagulls!”

  “Are you best friends with all the baseball players?” Jackie asked, resting her chin on her palm.

  Michelle laughed, launching into an executive summary of her real role in the gym—professional mom and shin wrapper. The ladies were very curious, peppering her with questions until the server returned to take their orders.

  And once more, Blake buried himself in his phone, frowning down at the screen as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

  Michelle’s stomach went into a knot as she looked over the menu. Something was definitely off with him. She just hoped it wasn’t the growing confirmation that her fears were correct, that Blake’s commitment to her had lessened now that he’d gotten her into bed.

  “What are you getting?” she asked, leaning forward to snag Blake’s attention. The server had started taking orders at the other end of the table.

  “Oh, uh…” he pocketed his phone, looking down at the menu as though he’d only recently realized he was in a restaurant. “I haven’t even looked.”

  “I think I want everything.” She turned to Mila. “Any recommendations?”

  Mila pointed out the scallop dish that she planned to order, which made Michelle’s decision for her. “Done. But that means you can’t get the scallops too, Blake. You have to get something different.”

  He didn’t hear her at first and then jolted when she waited expectantly for an answer. Blake smirked, turning to Grayson. “Okay, then, Grayson. You’re picking my meal for me. Consider it my birthday present. Anything but the scallops.”

  “Wow. I got off easy with this one. How about…this?” He jabbed his finger at something on the menu, and Blake nodded.

  The server came around to Michelle, took her order, and as he turned to move, his elbow grazed the edge of Michelle’s glass of wine. It toppled, but Michelle caught it just in time before the entire thing emptied out onto the table.

  “Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry,” the server said, reaching for a napkin on the table to help sop up the spilled wine.

  “It’s totally fine,” Michelle said, waving it off. “Seriously, no worries.”

  The server took Blake’s order then, offering one last apology to Michelle before rushing off. As Michelle reached out to take another sip of her slightly-emptier glass, Mila gasped.

  “There’s wine on your jean jacket,” she said. Mila tutted. “We should clean it now. I’ll be able to get it out easily.”

  “Come on. Let’s go to the bathroom.” Jackie sprang to life, ushering Mila and Michelle to their feet.

  “It’s okay, I can—” Michelle started.

  “Nope. This is an official girl’s trip to the bathroom,” Mila announced, setting her cloth napkin on the table. “Let’s go.”

  Mila and Jackie herded her to the bathroom. She giggled once they were inside the individual bathroom, which was practically bigger than Michelle’s living room.

  “Okay. Now that we’re all alone,” Jackie said, grabbing Michelle’s hands, “Can I just say how cute you and Blake look together?”

  Michelle laughed, feeling the heat creep back into her cheeks. “Aw, thank you.”

  “That’s really what we came here for,” Mila admitted, leading Michelle toward the sink. “Well, that, and to get this stain out.” She pulled at Michelle’s jacket, easing it over her shoulders.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Michelle started.

  “Nonsense. This allows us to gush in the meantime,” Mila said.

  “So where did you two meet?” Jackie asked, her eyes alive with curiosity as she crossed her arms and leaned against the countertop.

  “At the stadium, actually. Daniel threw a fastball that clocked Blake in the head,” Michelle said with a laugh.

  Jackie gasped, covering her mouth. “I would apologize for Daniel hurting your man, but maybe you two wouldn’t have met otherwise.”

  Michelle grinned, watching as Mila tended to the jean jacket with cold running water and gentle, circular movements over top of the stain. Blake had told her that Mila worked with clothes and fashion, and if her sleek, fashion-forward ensemble hadn’t tipped her off, then Mila’s careful attention to the stain would have sealed the deal.

  “I’m just so happy Blake has found someone,” Mila said, grinning over at her as she turned the water off.

  “Yes, well, we’re happy to have found Blake, too,” Michelle said.

  “We?” Mila asked.

  “Mollie and I,” Michelle clarified. “Mollie is my daughter.”

  Surprise washed over Mila and Jackie’s faces in unison. The truth burned through her—for however much Blake had talked about her to his friends, he hadn’t mentioned her daughter. The center of her world—and hopefully a large part of his, if they’d make it that far. So what did that say about the state of their relationship?

  “I had no idea you had a daughter,” Mila gushed. “Grayson and I have a son, Ethan—he’s almost four months old. How old is she? We should organize play dates.”

  “Mollie is five,” Michelle said. “And she loves babies.”

  “That is too cute,” Jackie said. “Let me know when you schedule this—I want in, too. I’ll bring the dog.”

  “I knew Blake would do well with someone loving and supportive in his life,” Mila went on, smoothing out the wet spot on the jean jacket sleeve. “He needs something serious and stable. You two seem perfect for each other.”

  Michelle smiled, but it felt strained at the edges. Doubts were flooding her, seeking all the weakened cracks in her new relationship with Blake. Blake needed serious and stable, sure—but was he ready to offer some seriousness and stability in turn? Michelle couldn’t handle a half-hearted commitment—not when Mollie’s happiness was at stake.

  “We should get back, or they’re going to accuse us of doing our nails in here,” Jackie said, rolling her eyes. “I love these guys, but they’re predictable.”

  Mila snorted. “Even more so when the three of them get together.” To Michelle, she said, “If you haven’t seen all three together much before now, you’ll understand what I mean by the end of dinner.”

  Michelle grinned, but it fell quickly. She followed the ladies back out into the restaurant, immediately spotting Blake once more absorbed by his phone. Grayson even punched his shoulder as the three of them took their seats again, but Blake barely stirred.

  So this confirmed it. If Blake could be so detached, so emotionally absent, on the doubly big occasion of his birthday and her first meeting of his friends, then that didn’t bode well for the future.

  Michelle took a healthy gulp of her wine, vowing not to think about it much more. After all, it would only send her down a dark path, and she wanted to enjoy this dinner as much as possible.

  Whether or not Blake even noticed the world around him.

  13

  By the time Blake and Michelle headed back to her house, he could tell something was seriously amiss.

  “Babe, you okay?” He reached out to grab her hand in the dark car. The city lights blurred past them as he drove through the business district.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” She sniffed, which meant that she wasn’t fine.

  “You seem quiet.” In fact, he didn’t think she’d spoken for the last ten minutes. He’d lost track of time, that’s how lost in his own thoughts he was.

  “I am,” she said with a laugh. “In fact, I haven’t said a word. I was waiting for you to notice.”

  “Sorry. I’ve been distracted tonight.” He sighed tersely, dragging a hand through his hair.

  “Yeah,” she said dryly. “I’ve noticed.”

  He ran his tongue over his teeth. Shit. He’d really tried to be present and engaged. It was just so hard when the stress of a possible delay with the club opening was hanging over his head every second of the day.

  “I really didn’t mean to be a jerk. I’ve just been so hung up on the club issues. I’ve been in constant contact with the contractor, and we’re working basically every second to get things on track again.”

  Michelle seemed to soften slightly, but he couldn’t tell if all was well or not in the dark car. Not until he could get her alone, and hopefully undressed. “I wish I could help with that.”

  “Well, I’m hiring extra crews to install the new electrical system so we can satisfy this damn permit. You don’t have to do a thing.” He picked up her hand and pressed her knuckles to his lips. “I’m hiring all the best, and then extra on top of that. I will open on time. I bet you a million bucks.”

  She smirked. “I don’t have that kind of money laying around. I can’t join in on the bets like your friends.”

  “You wouldn’t want to bet against me on this one anyway,” he said. “That’s how serious I am.”

  “If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” He kissed her knuckles again, easing the SUV onto the freeway. They chatted about other things—how amazing dinner was, how sweet and nice Mila and Jackie were—on the way back to her house. And when he pulled into her driveway, he realized he was more than ready to head inside and up to her bedroom…but he wasn’t sure if she wanted that.

  He cut the engine, drinking her in once the interior lights flicked on. She avoided his gaze, reaching for the door handle. His gut turned into a tight knot. Something still seemed off, but he had even less of an idea what it might be now that the previously palpable tension had eased.

  “What are you feeling like, babe?” he asked, squeezing her shoulder. “I want to take you inside and have my way with you, but only if you’re up to it.”

  She sent him a smile over her shoulder but didn’t respond right away. In the half seconds of deliberation, he worried that she’d shoot him down. And what would that signal between them?

  “Come inside,” she finally said, and he let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Relief trickled through him and he pushed open his door, following her inside the house. Once the door clicked shut behind him and she was toeing off her heels, Blake swooped over to her, bringing her against him.

  “I’m sorry for being distracted at dinner,” he said, truly meaning it. He felt like he’d ignored her, and that wasn’t cool. But hell if he knew how to execute this precious balance of being with someone and making sure they stayed. Blake was only good at wining, dining, and fucking. He had no tools in his tool belt for holding onto a woman long term. He’d never done this shit before. He’d only ever actively avoided getting here.

  So probably recognizing that he was occasionally an unintentional asshole would help.

  “I get it,” she said, smoothing her hands along his shoulders. “Don’t worry.”

  He swiped his thumb over her cheek, searching her blue gaze for the deeper truth, but she was incredibly difficult to read. He’d have to take her at her word. If she said not to worry, then he wouldn’t. Simple as that.

  He dipped down for a kiss, tasting the sweet tang of the dessert wine still on her lips. She parted her lips, allowing his tongue to meet hers in the middle. She gripped his hand cupping her cheek, a soft moan escaping her as the kiss deepened.

  At the very least she still wanted it. Wanted him. And he’d make sure that that didn’t change.

  Blake traced the curves of her body through the dress that he’d been admiring all evening, slowly easing off the jean jacket until it crumpled to the floor.

  “Where shall we explore each other tonight?” he asked, pressing his forehead to hers. “Maybe the dining room table this time?”

  She laughed. “I was thinking something a little more traditional. Like my bed.”

  He grunted, squeezing the apples of her ass cheeks. “Great idea. Let’s go there now.”

  She led the way, holding his hand as they sped up the stairs together. Inside her neat, orderly bedroom, outfitted in varying shades of gray and purple, he kissed her as he guided her backwards to her bed, toppling her to bounce softly on the mattress. She grinned up at him as he made quick work of his dinner jacket and the buttons of his shirt.

  “Is this birthday dessert, round two?” she teased.

  “Round three or four, maybe.” He shucked his shirt, and then got to work on his belt buckle and pants. “I’ve lost count. Too many delicious things that I’ve eaten in celebration. Both human and otherwise.”

  She pressed the back of her hand to her nose as she snort-laughed. He fished the three-pack of condoms out of his back pocket before tossing his pants. Once he was down to his underwear, he pushed her dress up to her hips and clambered onto the bed. Eyeing her sexy cleavage in the dress, he said, “What would you say if I said I wanted to fuck you fully clothed, and then again in just your panties, and then again buck naked?”

  “I’d say you have a lot of endurance.”

  “Oh, I do.” He pressed his lips to her collarbone, lowering himself so that the thick ridge of his cock lined up with her already-damp panties. “When it comes to you, I want it to last as long as fucking possible.”

  Her head rolled back as he moved himself against her, enjoying the splay of emotions across her face.

  “Mmm.” He thrust against her again, able to feel the heat and dampness of her even with two layers of underwear between them. She was desperate for it—again. And he couldn’t wait to sink into that juicy heaven.

  He didn’t know if it was the fact that they’d taken things slow, building up anticipation, or the fact that he’d actually gotten to know her so well beforehand—but he’d never had sex this good before. And that was saying something. Especially as one of the foremost playboys the San Francisco Bay Area had ever seen. Or rather, ex-playboy.