All About You (All Series Book 6) (8 page)

Within seconds, his phone vibrated.
Sounds good.

Step three down. Now he just needed to make it to Friday night.

Cultured

Olivia finished the last bit of work on her latest piece and rushed out of the door. She wanted to get a manicure and pedicure before running home to get ready for her date.

And she wanted to get out of the house before Sophia came home, too.

As luck would have it, the nail salon was slow in the early afternoon. It wasn’t Olivia’s first choice of places to go, but none of the spas around had any openings on such short notice and she didn’t want to risk going a day or so earlier and chipping her nails while working. She wanted to look perfect for her first date in months.

Satisfied with how her nails came out, she drove home in a hurry, dashed in the door, and took a quick shower. She’d told Finn she’d give him something to look at, and that was exactly what she was going to do.

Arriving back at her store at five thirty, she found it locked up tight, exactly as she hoped. Only she still had thirty minutes before Finn arrived.

Rather than waiting in the car, she walked around and let herself in the building, locking the door behind her and making her way to the back room.

Not having a lot of time to really do anything, she picked up a sketchpad and started to draw out a design she’d been thinking of the last few days.

Before she realized it, she heard footsteps in the front of the store, set her pad down and walked out the door to see Finn striding confidently toward her.

Wow, she wasn’t prepared for the sight of him so cleaned up.

He walked a few more feet and stopped in front of her. She shifted her gaze from his clean-shaven face—the smell of his aftershave hitting her like a ton of bricks. Soft, mellow, musky and all male. His crisp blue oxford shirt was tailored to fit him, the blue and silver tie expertly knotted, mixing nicely with the dark gray trousers he wore.

“You clean up well.”

He laughed at her, then leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. “So do you. Then again, I had little doubt about it.”

“That’s always nice to hear.”

“I could have picked you up at Phil’s. We didn’t have to meet here.”

“I thought you didn’t want anyone to know.”

Besides, she wasn’t sure she was ready for him to pick her up at her sister’s house. Not that she was really hiding it from Sophia, because she wasn’t. But Finn seemed to want to keep it a secret, so she was just following his lead.

“After tonight, it might be a moot point. I guess it’s not as big of a deal as I thought.”

“Then we’ll see how tonight goes,” she said and slid her arm through his. “I’m ready for my early night on the town.”

He’d already explained he had to pick Trey up at his sister’s, so she knew it was a short date. She was fine with that, knowing he’d been away from Trey for two nights already.

That he was willing to spend a few hours with her warmed her. She’d been honest when she told him Trey came first, but it was nice that he was willing to maybe put some effort in with her too.

***

Finn parked Olivia’s Porsche and walked around to open the door for her. He’d been shocked she handed the keys over to him even though she’d previously said she would.

“I don’t know where we’re going and this dress isn’t conducive for me to climb into your truck.”

Yes…the black dress she had on. The tight black dress that was leaving little to the imagination and doing one hell of a job on his libido.

A high neck, sleeveless, and showing off her toned arms. Arms that were most likely contoured from working on metals. She had strength behind her, even as soft as she looked.

The rest of the dress was simple, and probably cost more than most people brought home in a week. Just because he was a blue-collared worker from a middle class upbringing didn’t mean he didn’t know quality when he saw it. It fit her too well, and had probably been tailored to her body.

The slim but fit body that was testing his resolve, and they hadn’t even had dinner yet.

That sexy dress stopped mid-thigh on her, showcasing those long thin but muscular thighs and calves. She looked like someone who worked out, but he couldn’t picture that. Then his eyes rested on her feet—her pretty French manicure peeking out from the spiky, black strappy heels she was sporting.

He held the door open for her at the restaurant, then placed his hand on her lower back and ushered her toward the hostess. “Abraham,” he said.

“Follow me,” the young woman said, eying him longer than he felt comfortable with.

Did she recognize him? He hoped not, even though he remembered her. She was younger than him, closer to Becca’s age and one of the little cronies in the group Becca hung with.

The group that had caused trouble back then and made his life hell. Since he only met this woman once and couldn’t even remember her name, he was hoping she’d think he was just another customer.

They were escorted to a private table in the back, out of the way just like he’d requested. Not having a lot of time for their date, he wanted to make the most of it.

Holding the chair out for Olivia, he watched as she gracefully sat, and then he walked around to the opposite side. “You look like royalty today.”

It wasn’t just the dress either. It was the jewelry. He knew it was handmade, her pieces he’d bet. They were too unique not to be.

“So did I succeed in giving you something to look at?” she said, her eyes sparkling at him.

“Oh, I look at you all the time.”

“Do you now?”

“You know I do.”

He was studying her face. She was wearing more makeup than normal, but still not a lot. Just enough to make her eyes stand out against her porcelain skin. Her hair was down, straight and parted in the center, flowing like silk behind her. It felt like silk when his hand grazed it on her lower back too. “I can’t tell if you look older or younger with your hair down.”

“Is that your polite way of asking how old I am?”

It had crossed his mind a time or two. When he originally met her, he thought she was just a few years younger than him, still in her early thirties, but now he was having serious doubts. Not to mention he’d heard she was younger than Phil’s wife, who he guessed was younger than him. “If you want to share.”

“I’d ask you to guess, but I don’t want to know your answer. If you say I’m older than I am, I’ll think I’m aging poorly. And if you say I’m younger, I’ll assume you think I’m immature.”

“I don’t think you’re immature. I can assure you that.”

“Well then, I’m twenty-seven.”

Wow, much younger than he thought. He’d done his best to stay away from anyone in their twenties, yet she didn’t act it to him. Too late now, he couldn’t let it cloud his judgment…wouldn’t let it. He had to remind himself she wasn’t Becca or any of Becca’s friends. She didn’t have a hidden agenda—at least he hoped she didn’t.

“Twenty-seven is a good age.” He wasn’t sure what else he could have said.

“You seem surprised. I guess it’s only fair I ask how old you are.”

“Thirty-six.”

“Older than I thought.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I wouldn’t be here with you if I thought it was. Age is just a number, isn’t it?”

She was right, it was. “You’re putting a lot of responsibility on yourself opening a store.”

“For my age, you mean?”

“That didn’t come out right.”

“It’s okay. You aren’t the first person to say that. I’ve been on my own, you could say, for a long time. I won’t lie and say I haven’t done my fair share of partying and acting like other women my age, but deep down, I’ve always known where I wanted to be and decided it was time to do it. Again, age is just a number. I was ready now.”

He stored that information away for another time, wondering what “other things” she was referring to. Instead he asked, “I know you said you haven’t seen your father in years. What about your mother?”

“Is this where we learn more about each other?”

“I guess it is.”

“I’ll give you the condensed version; no need to bore you. I went to boarding school in Switzerland, so as you can imagine I didn’t see my family much. I talked to my mother quite a bit and she visited, but it’s not the same as living with her. I know I spoke ill of my mother jet setting around the world, and that was wrong of me. That was how she used to be, but she’s been married for quite a while now. She splits her time between California and Naples. Her husband owns wine vineyards.”

So not only did her father have money, but it seemed her mother did also. Completely out of his league, and he was wondering how he ended up sitting across the table from her right now.

“And after boarding school?”

“I went to college and studied gemology.” She stopped and smirked. “You don’t have to look so surprised. You know I’m a jewelry designer.”

“I guess I didn’t realize that was something you went to college for. Not a four-year degree type.”

“It is. And I interned. My stepfather, Anthony, has a lot of contacts and was able to pull some strings for me. I’ve never had a real father, but he helped pave the way for me in my adult life. I’m very grateful for that.”

“So you haven’t lived in the US recently?”

He’d looked her up online and was shocked to see how well known of a designer she was overseas, but he didn’t see anything about where she’d lived, nothing of a personal nature in her life.

“Not until the last month when I moved to Saratoga. I’ve lived in a lot of places and stayed in more cities than I can count, but never permanently. You could say I resided out of hotels quite a bit, traveling around.”

“That’s why you’re so cultured.”

“That’s sweet.”

“It is?” He didn’t know why she would think that was a sweet thing to say; it was just the truth.

“It’s another word for mature in my eyes. I’ve been called a lot of things in the past, and mature and cultured weren’t two of them.”

All going back to his original thoughts of her when he realized who she was and the wealth she came from.

He had to stop making judgments on her past and start making them on the person she was at this point in time. The woman in front of him that said she was ready for her life now.

“Those are two words I could say. Believe me when I say I haven’t been around too many twenty-somethings I could describe that way. So, your bracelet and ring, pieces you made?”

She held her arm up and examined the bracelet. It was made of thick pieces of silver-colored metal—none had a defined shape
but each was unique—probably white gold, maybe platinum, and each piece was held together with chain. It was big and bold, and set inside of each thick piece was a multi-colored stone.

“It is. Do you like it?”

“I do. What kind of stone is that?”

“Abalone shell. The metal is sterling silver. The stones, or shells, aren’t very expensive, so not really worth setting in gold. This is one of my favorite pieces. It goes with just about anything and it has an expensive look to it without being so.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Really?” she asked, tilting her head.

“You have real talent.” He didn’t know if he’d ever said that to another woman before, but he meant every bit of it.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“What about the ring?” He eyed her hand, long lean fingers with her nails painted a pretty pale pink. The ring definitely had value.

“Tahitian pearl, set in platinum, real diamonds. Another one of my favorite pieces. It’s a fragile stone and shouldn’t be worn in extreme cold. I figured I’d wear it while I could here.”

She wore that jewelry and those clothes the same way she wore jeans and a T-shirt at the playground the other day. Regally, and with class.

***

“Thank you for dinner,” she said when he dropped her back at the store.

They were standing in the parking lot behind her building now. It was still light out, just a little after eight. Definitely an early date for her, but she understood why.

“It was my pleasure.” He handed the keys back to her. “Thanks for letting me drive your car.”

She looked at the grin on his face. “It’s just a car.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“And I’ll say it again.” He rested his hands on her hips now and she felt the burn of it through her dress. The heat of him and his body almost too much to handle. “Are you going to kiss me again?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am.”

He leaned down, his lips just grazing hers, moving around, his tongue coming out to trace and urge her to open. She complied; there was no fight in her. She’d been waiting for this all night.

She leaned up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, falling into the kiss more. Then even more so when his hands moved up her ribs to the side of her breasts. He was too much of a gentleman to cover her breasts in the parking lot and she was a little disappointed in that.

He sighed though, deep in his throat and she knew he felt what she was feeling. The desire strong enough to wish they had somewhere they could go, somewhere private, and wishing the night wasn’t over.