Home is not a Place

44• Leather

VANESSA

Ethan gets us a nice lift to take us to the restaurant, and as soon as I step out, I realize I could never afford to eat a single meal here. It's a beautiful building with a blooming garden and lampposts leading up to the glass front doors.

Classical music plays from hidden speakers, and as I stare in awe, Ethan laces my arm in his.

My breath is taken away. "This place is beautiful."

Ethan must've learned in DC that I appreciate extravagance, though I can't afford it.

"You're more beautiful." He tells me, making me roll my eyes.

"That's too cheesy." I give him a look and he lifts his eyebrows.

"So, I'm going to have to try harder if I want a kiss from you by the end of the night?" He says, and adrenaline surges through my veins, tickling my heart.

I nod with a smile, and his serious expression lightens a bit. "Okay. Okay. How about this. Of all the stars in the night sky, you're the brightest."

"I've heard that one, too." I say as we almost reach the door.

He smoothly nods. "How about this?"

He stops walking and peers into my eyes with his precious gray ones. "Vanessa Creech, you're the only woman I've ever seen who holds the brilliant night stars in your eyes. I could make any wish upon any of those stars and know that they will come true as long as I'm with you."

My heart blooms, heat burning my cheeks. "That was pretty good, E."

A smile captivates his thick lips. It falls though, after we get inside and are seated in the corner under a gorgeous silver chandelier. "I am sorry we haven't had time to talk as much in the last couple of weeks."

"It's okay." I tell him. I mean, it's normal.

This whole "date night" is abnormal, but it's amazing. I wouldn't rather be doing anything else than sitting across from Ethan Turner wearing his suit and tie for me.

The waitress comes to order our drinks, and she hands over a wine menu. I don't even glance at it before Ethan says, "Would you like to try my favorite wine?"

I glance over into his glittering eyes. There's something in them that tell me he's never had a chance to share his favorites with anyone special to him.

I nod. "Of course."

He grins, handing the lady the menus and ordering us both glasses of a wine I've never heard of. And then he orders us a plate of shrimp Alfredo—my favorite. He remembered from DC.

"Only one meal? I'm a bit hungry." I tell him with a chuckle.

He nods, his eyebrows bouncing. "Oh, trust me, you'll be full. Their portions are fantastic."

"So, do you come here often?" I ask as the waitress brings us our fizzing drinks in wine glasses.

"Yeah." He says, and lifts his glass to me.

I pick up my wine as well, tapping his cup with mine. His gray eyes look so spectacular under this lighting. If I could paint, I'd paint him—handsome and cunning.

"You come alone?" I query, and he shakes his head.

"My father joins me sometimes." He explains.

I keep my face blank, not knowing how to react. "Are you two close?"

"Not really." He says casually. "We talk sometimes, but it's not like we call each other every day and ask how each other are."

There's a pause before he says, "You're much more interesting to dine with."