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That knowing look flashes across his face again as he looks away to hide his smile and I want to smash my face into my palms. God, I’m acting like such an idiot and I’m not even the least bit good at hiding how much he affects me. When he turns back to me, he pulls the door open and motions for me to step inside.

“Such a gentleman,” I whisper to myself, cringing when I hear his whispered chuckle behind me. Jesus, could I get any more awkward? I feel like a gawky teenager with her first crush on a really cute boy. Weaving through the tables scattered across the dining room, I approach the counter with Phoenix on my heels. I’m distracted, too aware of just how close he is to me and how easy it would be for him to reach forward and lace his fingers through mine.

When we reach the counter, he steps off to my side and gently places his hand at the small of my back. Gasping softly, I peek up at him and he smiles. “Do you know what you want?”

With a shake of my head, I turn away, looking up at the menu but none of it registers because all I can focus on is the searing presence of his hand on my back. Only a few months ago, when I imagined dating someone again some day, I always thought that it would be difficult. I assumed that it would take a long time before I was comfortable under someone else’s touch but when he touches me, I don’t feel that all too familiar panic. Instead, I feel…safe.

“What can I get for you two today?” the cashier asks, stepping up to the register and plastering a smile on her face. Phoenix looks to me and I turn to the menu again, forcing myself to focus as I scan it quickly.

“A number two with a strawberry milkshake.”

The cashier turns to the man next to me and quirks a brow in question.

“I’ll have the same except make my shake chocolate.”

She nods, punching a few buttons on the screen before rattling off a number and I reach into my pocket to grab the few bills I stuffed in there as I was leaving the house this morning. Phoenix lays a hand on my arm and I jerk in surprise, glancing up at him. I’m met by his casual smile and warmth slowly seeps through my body. Why the hell does he have to keep looking at me that way?

“I’ve got this,” he insists, holding a twenty-dollar bill out in front of him and I shake my head.

“I can pay for my own food.”

The cashier takes his money and his grin turns triumphant. “I know you can but I accosted you outside and talked you into lunch so it only seems right that I pay.”

“Well, just this once, I suppose,” I whisper, wrinkling my nose at him and he laughs, guiding me away from the counter after the cashier hands him his change and receipt.

“You have a table preference?” he asks and I scan the dining room, spotting a fairly secluded spot in the back corner. It’s probably best that we avoid other people since I’m acting like such an idiot around him. I point to the table and he nods, effortlessly leading me over to my chosen table with his hand still pressed against my lower back.

“So,” he prompts as we slide into seats opposite of each other. “Nice weather we’ve been having, huh?”

I snort out a laugh. “You want to talk about the weather?”

“It seemed like a safe place to start. You kind of make me nervous,” he admits and my mouth drops open.

“What? Why on earth would I make you nervous?” I ask, incredulous. Look at the man! There’s no way in hell that little old me makes a man like him nervous. Or maybe he just hasn’t figured out that I’m damaged goods yet.

He opens his mouth to respond when the cashier calls out our number and he shakes his head. “Saved by the bell.”

Before I can even respond, he’s jumping up and walking toward the counter to collect our food. Watching him, I wonder how the hell I even got here. Three days ago, I was focused on healing and moving on with my life but it’s a little scary how quickly he’s invaded my mind. If I let myself, it would be too easy to see a future with him but that’s part of my problem. I’ve always been a hopeless romantic and it would seem there are some things that even he wasn’t able to take from me. It’s just too bad that it’s the one thing that could get me in trouble all over again.

Phoenix starts walking back toward our table, a tray filled with food in his hand, and he smiles at me – that easy, genuine smile that makes my tummy do little flips and heat rush to my cheeks. The kind of smile that erases my past for a split second and allows me to be a regular girl. When he finally reaches the table, he sets the tray down in front of me and points to the little counter filled with condiments and napkins.

“Ketchup?”

I nod. “Yes, please.”

“How’s the tattoo doing?” Phoenix asks when he comes back from the condiment station with handfuls of ketchup packets and napkins, dumping it all on the table as I grin.

I hold my wrist out for him to see. “Good. I’ve been following your instructions.”

“Yeah, looks good,” he says, leaning in and brushing his fingers around my ink as he inspects it. Tingles skate up my arms and I silently suck in a breath, enjoying his touch for a moment before gently pulling my hand back. He straightens and starts taking our food off the tray, separating it between the two of us.

“Okay, let’s see what I already know about you,” he muses, popping a fry in his mouth. “I know that you’ve lived in Baton Rouge your entire life, you’ve got two brothers and one tattoo.” Winking, his gaze drops down to my wrist for a moment before he meets my eyes again. “What else should I know about you, Emma?”

I shrug. “What else do you want to know?”

“Everything,” he answers, his gaze never wavering and I have to look down at the table as I suck in a silent breath. “What was it like growing up with siblings? I’m an only child so I’m going to live vicariously through you for a minute.”

I laugh, meeting his eyes again. “Uh, well, mostly they’re a pain in my ass but I love them anyway.”