She probably thinks she knows what’s going to happen tonight.
Lee tries to keep his grin from giving anything away as he steps out of the car to help her in. It’s chilly, as befits December, so she’s wearing a wrap over her dress. He only gets a glimpse of black stockings and heels.
For a long moment, his brain stutters to a stop. Is she wearing — ?
No, he decides. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Then again, the Amanda who’d teased him with a picture in the Q-Bureau earlier this week very well might have. It takes a bit of effort to keep his eyes on the road as he pulls toward the Interstate. Unfortunately — or maybe fortunately — traffic’s still busy enough to provide the rest of any distraction he might need. He fiddles around for some light music, just enough to set a mood without being suggestive.
Amanda apparently wanted to play. He was willing…as long as he got to set the rules.
The game starts less than ten minutes into the ride. “This isn’t the way to Spencer’s.”
“Not to our usual one, no,” he counters.
She thinks about that for a moment.
“Don’t worry,” he continues. “You’ll be home before you turn into a pumpkin.” Unless you don’t want to be, he thinks but doesn’t add. Then he shakes his head. Now isn’t the time to think that way.
He thought he’d kept the headshake subtle, but her eyes narrow just enough to let him know she’d noticed. Rather than calling him on it, though, she changes the subject to other things, lighter things. Nothing about work; after all, this isn’t two co-workers getting together for a drink. It’s a date. A date she’d asked him for, not the other way around.
It’s about an hour to Baltimore, and their conversation drifts from topic to topic — the music, what they might have to eat, places near enough to D.C. to visit but that somehow, neither of them ever had. It’s light. Pleasant. Non-confrontational. Utterly delightful. And it leaves him a tad nervous.
Especially after the Corvette’s heater kicks in and she lets the wrap fall open slightly. She’s wearing a black dress.
But is it the black dress? He can’t quite tell from the way she’s sitting, and by the time he gets out and flips his keys to a valet, he’s not sure if he wants it to be that dress or not. She draws the wrap closer as they walk into the building, leaving him wondering even more — and not just about what she’s wearing.
Then, with a decidedly saucy look, she lets the wrap slide off right into his hands once they’re inside, giving him a clear view of the pearl buttons down the back.
Lee can’t quite keep his breath from hitching. But he does manage to keep his hands steady as he hangs it up for her. “You look nice.”
Her answer is one of those heart-stopping smiles, but her eyes glitter. “Thank you.”
Was that look mischievous? Amused? Something else? He decides to test the waters. “And maybe a little like trouble.”
Now her smile becomes openly challenging. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Despite the exchange, dinner’s as pleasant as the drive was. Comfortable. Easy. Light. He wonders when he should bring up the other part of her request: and then, we’ll take it from there. Or if. Will she beat him to it? Will she try to forget she said it? What is the next move in this little game they’ve been playing?
Or have they even been playing a game tonight? Don’t overthink it, Stetson. On the surface, there’s nothing to suggest this isn’t a simple dinner date.
Even if it is in Baltimore.
While she’s wearing that dress.
He lets her choose her own timing for the next move.
She launches the salvo as they leave the restaurant. “That was so good. And I’m so full.” The words sound innocent. The emphasis — and her sideways glance — tell a different story.
Thinking quickly, Lee trails a finger across her bare shoulder as he helps her back into her wrap. The touch is light enough to deny or justify if need be. The muscle underneath Amanda’s skin tenses slightly, but she doesn’t otherwise react.
“It’s warm enough for a walk,” he suggests mildly. “And we’re near the Harbor.”
“Lead on, then,” she invites, slipping a half-step closer.
It’s perfectly normal to tuck her hand into his elbow, he tells himself. And not at all unusual for them, which is likely why she hadn’t asked first. They’re quiet as they make their way over toward Top of the World, but it’s an easy silence, a companionable one. He hears the water lapping softly against the bulkheads, the occasional burst of laughter from other people in the distance, the soft drone of traffic from farther away. It’s a beautiful night.
“Should we go up to the observation deck?” he asks as they get nearer.
“Sure,” she answers, leaning in slightly, and he finds himself wondering whether they’ll be alone in the elevator on the way up.
Easy there, he tells himself. You’re supposed to be staying in control. And it is a public observation deck.
Which, when they get there, is closed. The lights in the lobby have been dimmed, but there’s enough for them to make out the sign: Closed for the Season. A janitorial cart parked in front of the elevator doors drives the point home.
Lee inhales sharply. He should have checked. He should have asked.
But Amanda doesn’t seem upset; she just shrugs and turns around. “We’ll just enjoy the view from here, then.”
He can’t resist the opening. “View of what?”
“Oh, you know.” Her movement has brought them nearly face-to-face. “The Harbor. The water. The night.”
His eyes fall to her face, and the question comes out before he can stop it. “Do you like what you see?”
The corners of her mouth quirk up as she traces the line of his lapel with one hand. “I don’t know. Is there something worth seeing?”
It would be so easy to kiss her, he realizes. So perfect. Almost expected.
Which is precisely why he doesn’t. Instead, he just wraps his arm around her, steering them back out toward the sidewalk. “You’ll have to let me know.”
She makes a non-committal noise and, ever so slightly, rolls her eyes. But the smile at her lips, while softening the sting, doesn’t quite overcome it. Lee has to actively work to keep his breathing normal. It’s just restraint, he tells himself. After all, he still has to drive her back to Washington and her car. Pushing too far might have made that too awkward, or difficult —
Or exhilarating, his mind adds before he can stop the thought. And maybe a reason not to go back right away.
Lee bites the inside of his cheek. This is Amanda, damn it. He’s not going to think about her like that.
At least, not right now.
Or ever.
But maybe?
He shakes his head to banish the thought.
As he helps her back into her car, she’s the one who lets a finger trail across his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He closes his eyes and wonders when, exactly, he’d lost control over the situation. Assuming he’d ever had it in the first place.
With her? Clearly, that’s not always a safe assumption.
They’re completely quiet on the way home.