“Can I have a hint?”

“It’s hot.”

“Do you mean spicy?” I ask, and I see his lips twitch like something is funny. “What?”

“Do you not like surprises?”

I think about it for a second, then answer honestly, “Not really.”

“That’s a surprise.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask, adjusting in the seat.

“You read, and judging by the number of books you own, it’s a lot. I doubt you go into each book wanting to read it because you know how it’s going to end.”

Darn, he has a point. Still, he’s also kinda wrong. “When I’m reading and get to a point in a book that makes me nervous about how things will turn out, I skip to the end just to make sure everything ends up okay.”

“Really?” He glances at me.

“Really. In my mind, I can’t move on with the book if I don’t know there is a happily ever after coming.”

“That doesn’t ruin the story for you?”

“No, it’s kind of like biting into a sandwich. The bread tastes good, but the meat, cheese, mayo, and mustard is what make it delicious. I never read much of the ending, just enough to feel good about what I’m going to get before I continue on.”

“Oddly, I get that.”

“You do?” I ask, knowing I sound as surprised as I am.

“I do, but still, I like being surprised.” He stops at a red light and turns to smile at me. “Imagine thinking you grabbed the same sandwich you’ve eaten every day, but then you bite into it and realize it’s actually something you’ve never had and better than anything you’ve ever tasted.”

“But what if it’s not?” I ask, holding his stare. “What if it’s gross and you have to toss it in the garbage and feel hungry for the rest of the day, because you didn’t stick to what you know?”

“That’s life.” He looks away when the light turns green. “We can plan all we want, but at the end of the day, some things are out of our hands. One day, you might feel like you’ve got it all figured out, and then the next day comes and something unexpected happens, knocking you down or shoving you forward.”

“That’s kind of deep for sandwich talk,” I say, half joking and half serious, his words resonating with a part of me I’m still trying to figure out. A part of me that wants to be brave and take chances.

“You’re right, so we should go eat,” he replies, and I notice then that we’re pulling into a parking lot that is packed full of cars.

It takes me a couple of seconds to figure out where we are, and when I do, I shake my head. “It’s hot,” I repeat his earlier clue, and he grins as he rolls into an empty space and shuts down the engine.

“Surprised?” He turns toward me after putting the engine in Park and shutting it off.

“Very.” Flame has been the talk of the town since it opened, and everything said about it has been good, which is why you need to call months ahead for a reservation. Or at least that’s what my dad said when he mentioned wanting to bring my mom. How did he get us a table?

“I know the owner,” he answers my unspoken question, and I raise one brow. “I’ve done some work for him.”

“Tattoos?” I ask, and he shakes his head.

“No. Besides Flame, Mack, the owner of this place, has an online luxury car dealership. He made his money by purchasing vehicles from auctions for less than market value and then fixing them up and selling them online for less than what they are worth but more than what he paid. I’m one of the mechanics he uses to make whatever repairs are needed on his vehicles before they go up for sale.”

“That’s smart.”

“Yeah,” he agrees then asks, “Are you ready to go inside?”

“Yes.” I unhook my belt as he opens his door and hops out, and when I open my door to do the same, I pause. Logically, I know the distance to the ground isn’t that far. Still, I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it without spraining my ankle or worse.

“I got you.” He appears in my open door, holding out his hands.

I don’t think about what I’m doing. I lean toward him and wrap my palms around his shoulders, feeling his muscles bunch under my fingers. His hands curve around my waist and he carefully lifts me from the seat. When my feet touch the gravel, I tip my head back toward him, feeling off balance by our closeness. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” He doesn’t step back. Instead, he lifts his hand and touches my temple with a finger before slowly sliding my hair away from my face and tucking it behind my ear. I hold my breath as I stare into his eyes and fight the urge to use my hold on him to lift myself up and press my lips to his. “We should go in before they give away our table.”

He takes a step back, leaving me off balance once more, even with his hand on the curve of my hip still holding me steady. With no other response, I nod as he lets me go and lift my purse over my shoulder, stepping away from the door so he can shut it. I take his hand when he offers it, and try to ignore the zap of electricity that zings through our connected palms as our skin makes contact. There is no denying there is some serious chemistry between us; I just hope we have something deeper than sexual attraction. Otherwise, this thing between us will burn out quickly. When we finally make our way through the crowd that is gathered around the front door, Gareth stops at a podium where three women, all dressed in black, are gathered around the tablet in the middle one’s hands. It doesn’t take long for them to look up, and when they do, I recognize one of them immediately as the mother of one my students from last year.

“Miss Mayson.” She smiles at me.

“Hi, Lina. Please, call me December,” I return, and she nods then looks at Gareth. Her eyes fill with appreciation before meeting mine once more. “This is Gareth,” I introduce, then ask, “How has Tiffany been?”

Her face softens at my question and my heart warms. Lina is a single mom, and the relationship I witnessed between her and her daughter was something special. “Good. She loves her new school and her teachers. Though, she still talks about you all the time.”

“I think about her often.” It’s not a lie. I think about all my kids when they are no longer under my care. Normally when they graduate from my class, they stay in the building I work in, so I’m able to check up on them from time to time. But Lina was forced to transfer Tiffany to a different school when the zones were changed. “I’m glad she’s doing good. You should bring her by the school sometime. I’d love to see her.”

“I’ll have to do that. She’d enjoy that,” she says, and then glances at Gareth quickly. I notice he hasn’t said anything, but his fingers around mine have gotten tighter. “Sorry.” She shakes her head, looking a little embarrassed. “We’re not here to catch up. Do you two have a reservation?”

“We do,” Gareth puts in, letting my hand go to wrap his arm around my waist. “Under Black.”

Lina looks at the two women still standing next to her listening to our exchange, and the one in the middle types quickly on the tablet then looks up at us with wide eyes. I don’t know what to make of her expression, or have time to ask about it, before Lina is grabbing long sheets of paper out of a holder at the side of the podium. “Your table is ready.” She starts to walk away then looks at us over her shoulder. “Sorry.” She smiles. “Please, come with me.”