Shut Up and Kiss Me Page 7

  Favors was a small café adjacent to one of the leading hotels in the city, as well as a place his mother liked to frequent. It had been exactly a week since he’d seen her last, and he wasn’t about to risk running into the rest of his family at their estate and ruining another perfectly good Sunday. He happened to like his weekends—and his weeks—scrutiny-free.

  The short and slim man behind the podium gave him a sparing glance before returning his gaze to his list. Scanning the paper, the man snapped his finger and a waitress hurriedly appeared at his side.

  “Right this way, sir,” she said pleasantly.

  Reaching beneath his jacket, Will slipped his hands into his suit pants pockets and followed along behind the waitress until they’d reached a table in the back, directly opposite a wall of glass that allowed patrons to see directly into the hotel’s lobby.

  “Here we are,” she announced, pulling out his chair.

  About to take his seat, Will glanced over at the woman seated across from him, startling upon realizing that the young blond woman who seated there wasn’t his mother.

  “Excuse me,” he said, smiling. “I must have the wrong table.” He turned toward the waitress, who looked as confused as he felt.

  “Elise Townsend,” he told her, and scanned the room again. From where he stood in the back, he should have been able to spot his mother no matter where she was seated.

  “William?”

  He turned back to the woman, now standing beside her chair, a wide smile on her face. Holding out her hand in offering, she stepped forward. “Michelle Collier,” she said.

  Collier? Collier…

  As Will’s thoughts fell into place and realization dawned, his eyes narrowed and his mouth thinned.

  “The Boston Colliers,” he replied dryly. “Your father is Jacob and your mother is—”

  “Denise,” she finished for him, nodding. “Good friends with your mother. We’re in town for week—something to do with Dad’s big corporate merger.”

  Will’s shoulders slumped. His mother hadn’t tried to set him up in quite some time—not since his college days—and he’d assumed she’d simply given up trying to find him a wife. At least he’d hoped she’d given up.

  Thanking the waitress, Will gestured to Michelle’s chair while taking his own seat.

  “I’ll have a coffee,” he said, waving away the menu she offered him. “Black, please. And a plain bagel, cream cheese and lox.”

  “Café bombón for me,” Michelle added.

  “Anything to eat?” the waitress asked.

  “No, no,” she answered, waving a manicured hand in the air. “I’m trying to lose five pounds.”

  Will fought the urge to roll his eyes. She couldn’t have weighed any more than a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet, and if she didn’t eat something soon she might disappear altogether—though she wasn’t a bad-looking woman, with long blond hair styled straight, an oval face accompanied by soft brown eyes, and clear, rather radiant skin. In fact, she was a great-looking woman, even if she was thinner than he liked. Only he wasn’t interested, and he never would be. For starters, his mother had set this up, and if his mother liked her, that meant his father liked her…or rather, liked and approved of her family. And if his father approved, then Will was going to go out of his way to disapprove.

  “Is that Brioni?” Michelle asked, eyeing his jacket with approval, a greedy expression that left a bad taste in Will’s mouth. “I absolutely adore their new wool blends.”

  No matter that it was, in fact, a Brioni suit—he always dressed to impress for his mother’s benefit, not wanting to hear her speech about the importance of appearance on the off occasions he’d meet her out in plain clothes—it was the simple fact that women like Michelle put actual stock into how much a man’s suit cost. If it wasn’t upwards of five thousand dollars or more, it was worthless to them.

  “Goes well with my shoes,” he said, stretching out his right leg and showing off his well-worn Converse sneakers.

  Michelle glanced down at his foot, her eyes widening just a fraction. Suddenly she was smiling and shaking her head at him, her expression amused. “Elise said you were a rebel.”

  He stared at her, feeling somewhat incredulous. No matter how many times he interacted with people like Michelle, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that they found wearing a comfortable pair of sneakers…rebellious. But before he could respond with a subtle insult she’d surely never figure out, the waitress appeared beside them.

  Blowing on her coffee, Michelle smiled at him over the rim of her glass mug. “So tell me about yourself,” she said, cocking her head to one side in what Will was sure was meant to be an alluring and feminine gesture but instead looked rather ridiculous on a full-grown woman.

  Will forced a smile. “You first,” he said, knowing full well she’d jump at the opportunity to talk about herself, allowing him the chance to tune out.

  “Your mother said you weren’t much of a talker,” she replied. Setting down her coffee, she pursed her glossy lips together. “But she did mention you loved to travel. I was in London last month for fashion week and couldn’t believe…”

  And that was Will’s cue to stop listening. Picking up his coffee, he took a large swallow and glanced over the top of Michelle’s head, surveying the people milling around the hotel lobby. He caught sight of an elderly couple, the woman swathed in furs and jewelry, and watched as they made their way to the front desk. Looking irritated, the man began gesturing wildly, waving his hands around in obvious displeasure about something. Leaning back in his chair, Will searched for the recipient of their anger: a petite woman wearing a plain black blazer, her black hair pulled up in a heavy bun, was eyeing the elderly couple with barely concealed disdain.

  Wait a second… He knew her. That was… what was her name? N-something… Nancy? No. Not Nancy. What the hell was her name? What was her—

  Nikki! That was Nikki, Mila’s friend.

  Mila.

  And suddenly he wished it were Mila who was sitting across from him. Several times since their night together, he’d caught himself wondering if she might call him, but eventually gave up wondering when a full week had passed by. It wasn’t like a woman not to call within the first couple of days, let alone an entire week. She obviously wasn’t interested. And he’d thought his interest had waned as well… That is, until he’d just spotted her friend, all at once renewing his attention.

  “Excuse me,” he said abruptly, interrupting whatever it was the Michelle was saying. “I have to go.”

  Pushing his chair back, he stood from his seat, pulling out his wallet and tossing a few bills down onto the table. “It was great meeting you, Michelle, and I hope you enjoy your visit.”

  He spared one glance her way, finding her bottom lip fallen open and her watching him with a stunned expression. He gave her a smile—a real smile this time—before walking off.

  Entering the hotel through the café, he headed toward the check-in desk where Nikki stood, her head bowed down as she typed, her eyes scanning a computer screen. The couple gone now, Will walked straight up to the desk and placed his hands on the counter.

  Nikki’s head popped up, a fake smile plastered across her heavily made-up features. “Good afternoon,” she said cheerfully, “and welcome to…” She trailed off, her eyes popping as she took him in, obviously recognizing him.

  “Uh…” she stammered. “Um, how can I help you?”

  He grinned down at her. “That’s a terrible way to greet potential customers.”

  One black, manicured brow lifted in question. “You need a room?” she asked.

  “Not at all,” he replied. Leaning over the counter, he gestured her closer.

  Looking confused yet intrigued, she leaned in.

  “I need a phone number.”

  Chapter Seven

  I climbed out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body. Hurriedly, I towel-dried my hair and patted myself dry, slipping into
a pair of sweats and a T-shirt I had waiting. It had been a long day at work, and I was more than ready to fix myself an early dinner and watch some bad reality TV for the rest of the night.

  “Mila?” Nikki knocked on the bathroom door. “Your phone is ringing.”

  “Who is it?” I asked, pulling the door open.

  Nikki was headed out tonight, already dressed and ready for a night downtown. Standing there in the hallway, she handed me my phone. I glanced down, not recognizing the number, and stared at it for a long minute, unsure of what to do. I never answered my cell if I didn’t recognize the number, and the only people who had my number were Nikki and Carlos.

  “You should answer,” Nikki said, sounding urgent. “You really should.”

  “I don’t know the number,” I said, frowning.

  “No, but I do, so answer it.”

  Curious, I took the phone from her hand, and while studying Nikki I brought it to my ear and said a soft “hello.”

  “Mila?”

  His voice rang clear and confident, my skin pebbling with goose bumps at sound of it.

  “Yes?”

  “I believe that I still owe you dinner.”

  Eyes wide, I grinned at Nikki, who smiled widely in return.

  “Will?” I asked tentatively.

  “La Bella Luna, Mila, tonight at eight. Say you’ll be there.”

  Flustered, I turned away from Nikki. I wanted to say yes to him, but at the same time I wasn’t looking for another one-night stand. And if that’s what he was looking for…?

  “Mila?” His delicious voice tickled my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Say you’ll be there.”

  Blowing out a hard breath, I squeezed my eyes shut. Of course I wanted to see him again. We had shared an amazing night, but the woman he’d had met wasn’t truly me. She didn’t have a complicated past and questionable future.

  …Yet, since that night, I’d hardly thought about anything but him.

  “I’ll be there,” I said, feeling my belly flutter with excitement.

  “See you tonight, Mila.”

  My phone went silent and I spun to face Nikki, my cell still clutched to my ear.

  “What did you do?” I demanded. “What on earth did you do?”

  She held up her hands in defense. “I didn’t do anything! He found me, and he asked me for your number so he could take you on a real date.” Batting her eyelashes at me, she smiled demurely.

  “Why don’t I believe you?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  “I’m serious. Although I may have given him some shit for bailing on you.”

  “And?” I prompted.

  “And I may have called him a few choice names…nothing too bad, and really, I’m capable of much worse than I gave him.” Grinning, Nikki laughed gleefully. “Oh Mila, wipe that look off your face. It doesn’t matter—he wants to see you! You should be happy, you’ve been moping for a week now!”

  “I am happy,” I protested. “It’s just…oh God, Nikki, I’m going on a date?” Feeling suddenly sick, I sat down on the toilet seat and dropped my face in my hands.

  “Yes you are.”

  “A real date,” I muttered.

  “Correct.”

  “I feel sick,” I moaned. “What will I say to him?”

  “You’ll be fine! He came to you! You could go on this date wearing a duct tape dress and pigtails and the ball would still be in your court!”

  Peeking up at her through my fingers, I made a face. “A duct tape dress? That’s still a thing?”

  “A duct tape dress?” Nikki shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. “That’s what you took away from that? A duct tape dress?”

  Spinning around, she disappeared down the hall. “A duct tape dress,” she muttered.

  Laughing, I glanced down at my phone, instantly noting the time. “Oh my God,” I breathed, jumping up.

  Frantically, I searched my closet for something to wear, choosing an emerald green silk camisole that perfectly matched my eyes and pairing it with black skinny jeans and ballet flats. After clipping my hair up, I teased loose a few stray curls, giving me a natural and tousled look, my appearance far more demure than sexy. I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression about tonight in any way. Tonight I wanted to get to know him better.

  “Your cab is here, Mila!” Nikki yelled.

  “Oh my God! I forgot a cab!” Giving myself a quick spritz of perfume, I grabbed my purse and rushed into the hall.

  “You’re welcome,” Nikki said. Standing by the door, her arms folded under her chest, she grinned at me. “Now go have fun!”

  Opening the front door with a grand flourish, she waved me out.

  * * *

  The twenty-minute cab ride to the restaurant was just long enough to give me time to think and a much-needed moment to calm down. By the time we’d pulled up outside the small yet picturesque restaurant, I was feeling much more self-assured. That is, until I stepped inside. While La Bella Luna might have appeared quaint and charming on the outside, the inside was the stark opposite. My stomach fell to my feet; I wasn’t dressed appropriately at all. This was grand and opulent, and here I was in skinny jeans.

  The maître d’ at the front desk glanced up at me with a pleasant smile, her painted red lips stretching wide as she appraised me from head to toe.

  “Reservation?” she asked.

  “Yes, I think so,” I stammered. “Will…um…” Realizing I didn’t know his last name, I snapped my mouth shut and blushed hotly.

  “Last name?” she asked, raising her brow.

  “I…ummm…” I trailed off, sucking in my bottom lip, feeling like a bumbling idiot. Could I just make a run for it?

  A warm hand landed on my shoulder and I flinched, jerking away, only to pause mid-step when I met with Will’s bright blue eyes smiling down at me.

  “You’re early,” he said, his smile growing wider.

  I couldn’t help but smile back. His smile was intoxicating—addicting, even. “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

  “Don’t be sorry,” he said, “You’re not like other women, and that’s a good thing.”

  His blue eyes raked over me, soaking up my every feature. Normally, this sort of visual scrutiny would have made me feel uncomfortable, but I found that with Will it left me breathless, and wanting more.

  “A very good thing…”

  “Right this way, Mr. Townsend.”

  The spell growing between us broken, we both glanced toward the Maître d’. Giving us a small smile, she tilted her head toward the dining room. “If you’ll follow me, please.”

  “Townsend,” I murmured. “I’ll have to remember that.”

  “Your turn,” he whispered, and for a moment I just stared blankly at him, until it dawned on me that he was asking me my last name.

  I blushed hotly, embarrassed for the both of us. “Webber,” I said, “Mila Webber.”

  Grinning, Will took my hand in his, and together we entered the dining area. The urge to drop my chin and avoid the gazes of the other patrons, all dressed far more appropriately than I was, was strong. Instead, I purposefully met their appraising stares head-on, refusing to shy away from anything tonight. And by the time we’d reached our table, a quiet two-top in the back, I was smiling from ear to ear.

  “Scotch please,” he told the waiter who’d suddenly appeared. “And a…manhattan?” Will glanced at me, his brow raised, waiting for confirmation.

  I nodded shyly, surprised he’d remember something as inconsequential as what I liked to drink.

  “Very good, sir,” the waiter said, nodding once before slipping away.

  Will turned back to me, greeting the smile I couldn’t seem to get rid of with one of his own. “You look beautiful,” he said, and from the look on his face, the tone of his voice, I knew he was being genuine.

  “You look great, too,” I whispered. And he did. His white dress shirt was fitted, accentuating the firm body underneath. Dark suit pants and an expensive-looking wa
tch completed his outfit. He looked dressy yet casual, and so, so very sexy.

  “Yeah?” he asked, glancing down at the floor. I followed his gaze, my eyes widening when I saw his footwear. The same worn sneakers that he’d been wearing at the club, he’d worn tonight as well.

  “Oh my God,” I giggled, bringing my hand to my mouth to muffle the sound. “That’s adorable.”

  Will’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Adorable?” He laughed. “Now that is a first.”

  “Do you always wear those, or did you wear them for me?”

  “Yes,” Will answered, winking at me.

  Laughing softly, I glanced down at the table, the two of us lapsing into silence as we read through our menus. After scanning through the items, wrinkling my nose up at most of the dishes before settling on the salmon, I glanced up to find Will already watching me.

  “Hi,” I whispered, sounding as shy as I suddenly felt.

  “Hi,” he whispered back, his blue eyes burning, his features tightly drawn and radiating heat.

  I reacted in kind, squeezing my thighs together as I recalled the last time we’d sat at a table, and the soft kisses that had led to something more. So much more.

  “Are we splitting this bill?” he suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

  My heart skipped a beat. I had agreed to meet him here but hadn’t considered how lavish it would be.

  “Yes, of course,” I mumbled, hoping I had enough cash to cover my portion.

  “It was a joke, Mila. There’s no way in hell I’d let you pay for dinner.” He was smiling again, though his gaze was most serious and determined, leaving no room for argument.

  “Although dessert is up to you,” he continued, his eyes once again burning. Reaching across the small table, he placed his hand over mine. “Certainly where we choose to eat it is.”

  I struggled to suck in a breath as his thumb began casually caressing my knuckles, igniting a fire in me he’d flamed to life a week ago that still had yet to die out.

  Giving Will a grin, closely followed by a blush, I leaned forward. “I have ice cream at my apartment.”