Heat crept up my neck. My heart fluttered. And as I crossed the street and passed through Winston’s main entrance, I dared only admit to myself that I could barely wait for tomorrow night at six p.m. to arrive.
Nerves clawed at my insides. All the sisters were out, Murphy and Josh had already left for curry, and I was alone. Almost as if I felt as though I were doing something wrong, I paced as I waited for six p.m. to arrive. I had a bad case of the jitters. For the hundredth time, I glanced at the clock on the wall in the common room. The minute hand tick-ticked so loudly, I almost wanted to cover my ears. Five forty. A little longer. If Corinne Belle finds out about this…
It had rained during the night, and this morning when I’d awakened the temperature had dropped. A cold front was moving through and the high for the next several days would be in the low fifties. Lows at night in the mid thirties.
Kane must’ve checked the weather when he’d advised me to dress warmly.
Kane McCarthy. Businessman. From Boston. Are you out of your mind, Harper? You’ve never even been on a date in your life and this is who you choose to be your first? A shady numbers man? All for a dare?
I passed by the entryway mirror, and glanced at myself. I didn’t really know what I was doing. A first for me, actually. Everything was usually so well-planned out—whether I planned it, or someone else did. The latter was usually the case.
I didn’t own fun clothes. I owned…Belle clothes. Sophisticated, successful, tailored clothes. They’d been chosen for me and purchased for me by my grandmother. So the best I could do was a pair of olive fleece-lined leggings that I’d borrowed from Murphy, my tall black leather Frye boots, and a ribbed black turtleneck. My designer black wool pea coat lay draped over the hall tree, along with a light tartan scarf and black gloves. I glanced at the clock again. Pulled on my coat, scarf. Grabbed my gloves and shoved them into the pockets.
Hopefully, warm enough.
I’d twisted my straight hair into a single French braid, and out of nervousness applied one more swipe of lip balm. Paced. Waited. Something in my gut warped; I knew deep down that just being with Kane wasn’t going to get me into any sort of trouble. I’d have to actually be physically caught gambling to be in jeopardy. Was it that I knew I was doing something completely forbidden in Corinne Belle’s eyes? What if I got caught? I cringed at the myriad of punishments running through my mind.
Maybe it was the fact that Kane was doing something illegal that frightened me? Somehow, I wished he was…better than that. To have more integrity.
Maybe I could convince him.
A knock at the door sounded and startled me from my thoughts. My boots clicked against the hardwood floor as I pulled open the door. Standing there, wearing that smoky gaze, was Kane. He regarded me silently, intimately, completely, without barely a shift in his facial expression. Behind him, the sky had turned dark, and the light from the porch cast a ginger glow against his skin.
With his legs braced wide, he held out his hand; easy, inviting. Tempting. “Do you trust me?”
My breath caught in my throat. “Not exactly,” I answered. Hesitantly, unused to physical touch, even with my friends, I placed my hand in his. It was big, callused, warm, and he tugged me through the door. A completely foreign feeling, I found I sort of liked it. We descended the porch steps and crossed the yard to the parking lot in silence. At his vintage truck, he stopped, unlocked the door and looked down at me. His usual leather jacket covered a dark plaid undershirt, a pair of dark jeans, and boots a shade lighter than his jacket. He looked comfortable. Beautiful. Like something out of an outdoor catalogue.
“Hop in,” he urged softly.
Strangely enough, I did just that. I hadn’t even ridden for weeks with Murphy until we’d gone to Karma. With my chin held high and my shoulders straight, I eased into the driver’s side and scooted across the bench seat. The vinyl was cool through my leggings. I buckled up, crossed my ankles and folded my hands in my lap. I couldn’t help scanning the parking lot, searching for anyone who might be watching. Who would tell on me.
Kane slid in behind the larger-than-average steering wheel, pulled the door shut, and looked at me. Shadows from the yard light cut across his face, making him look even more mysterious than I thought he was. His eyes softened. Turned liquid.
“Relax, Harper,” he said in that unique, oddly soothing voice. “I’m not dangerous, you know.”
I drew in a deep breath. Eased it back out. “Maybe.” I looked at him. “Does Brax know you’re taking me out?”
His smile was crooked. “He warned me to leave you alone,” he confessed. Then his eyes softened again, seemingly drinking me in. “I just couldn’t seem to help myself.”
My skin flushed at his words, and I barely knew what to say. I twisted my hands together in my lap. “But you’re not even from here,” I offered. “How do you know where to go?” I looked at him then. “Where are we going, anyway?”
His laugh was gentle, easy. “You’ll see.” He started the truck, and it roared to life. “Olivia told me about this place,” his smile was crooked. “Thought I needed to see it at least once.”
“Oh.” I glanced out the window. “Why with me?”
Kane was silent for a moment. “Why not with you?”
I pondered that for several seconds. Maybe minutes. My gaze hung onto the passing signs as we faded out of Killian and headed north. Trees were dark, lurking giants crouched just out of reach. Cars were few; Sunday evenings, things were slow on the road. I couldn’t help but wonder if Kane could tell I’d never actually been out on a date before. Twenty years old, on my first official date, and I had to keep it to myself. Hide it. Prayed it didn’t get out that I’d been lying all those other times. Made up dates. Made up guys. Made up loves. A big fat made up life.