“Are you serious?” I glance at the clock. “It’s after eight.”

“It’s also Friday night in downtown LA.” He escorts me downstairs like I’m a princess and opens the door of his BMW for me.

We make good time and arrive ten minutes early. The restaurant is gorgeous with dark wood paneling, crystal chandeliers, white-draped tables with lilies almost as bright as the candles they’re arranged under. After the hostess seats us at a small table for two, I twist around to admire the view until I notice Hayden smiling at me.

“What?” I ask defensively. “It’s a nice place.”

I expect him to tease me—to say something like I thought your head was going to fall off or Were you looking for the tofu? But he simply replies, “You’re beautiful.”

My cheeks heat up with sudden shyness. Love shines from his eyes, so naked and tender that I swallow hard, fighting back happy tears. Before I can figure out how to reply, the waiter chooses that moment to deliver the menus. Hayden orders his customary Scotch, I order an appletini, and the waiter flits away to let us decide on our entrees.

“You know . . . I actually have something else to celebrate,” I say between sips. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you before.”

“More good news? Jeez, leave some for the rest of us.” His grin is bursting with pride. “So? What is it?”

“I’ve been promoted. Well, technically hired, but same diff. Walker, Price, and Pratt made me a junior associate yesterday.”

Hayden blinks at me. Then he stands up, pushes aside the table’s centerpiece, and leans over the table to press a fiery kiss to my mouth, lipstick be damned. My hands flutter at his shoulders, wanting to pull him closer, but too aware of how many people can see us. I finally muster the willpower to push him away when an old couple at a nearby table start clapping.

“Oh my God, sit down.” I bury my burning face in my hands. “They probably think you just proposed or something.”

“Screw them. Let them think whatever they want . . . this is great news, baby.” But he does sit back down when the waiter reappears.

After we’ve given our orders, Hayden picks up where he left off. “So now that you’re a card-carrying lawyer, is that asshole finally going to give you some respect?”

“You mean Mr. Pratt? I doubt it . . . creepers gonna creep,” I say with a shrug. “But I’ve got things under control. Whenever I need to cool his jets, I just casually mention my boyfriend. That works pretty well.”

“Ah, yes. Your overprotective boyfriend who might just punch him so hard, his bad hair plugs fall out.” Hayden rubs his chin. “I wonder if he lives in a building I own . . .”

I giggle despite myself. “Easy there, Rambo. I handled him just fine before we started dating. And if I perform well enough to get a good letter of recommendation, Trina might be able to hook me up at her new job next year. So I don’t need you stirring shit. Okay?”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “Fair enough. Shit will be shaken, not stirred.”

“Ew, gross.” I make a face. “I’m trying to eat here.”

“No, you’re not. You’re drinking that . . . neon-green thing. Christ, just looking at it makes me feel like less of a man.”

Sticking my tongue out at him, I toe off one high heel under the table. He sucks in his breath when I slide my foot up his thigh. “Does this help? I think I feel your masculinity coming back . . .”

“Oh, you are going to get it later,” he growls with a wicked smirk.

Heat boils in my belly as I flash my own faux-sweet smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Our veal marsala and eggplant parmesan land in front of us, and we dig in eagerly. I don’t know about Hayden, but I’m starved. I worked through my usual dinner break so I could come home early and primp for our date. For a few minutes, we just enjoy the gourmet Italian cuisine in blissful silence.

“I didn’t tell you the best part yet,” I say after I’ve shut up my stomach. “As a junior associate, my salary will be almost twice as much as I made when I was an intern. And that’ll only go up with seniority. Mom should be able to retire within three years . . . five at the outside.”

“Five freaking years? Isn’t she already sixty-three?” His mouth twists in uncertainty. “You know, I can still start an account for her. Under both your names, so I can’t touch it after I make the initial deposit.”

I shake my head, smiling at him. “Thanks, sweetie, but I’m never going to change my answer. I can do this standing on my own two feet.” No matter how many times he offers money, all I want from Hayden is his love—and he’s made it clear that I have it in spades. “Besides, I still have to convince Mom to retire. She’ll probably say something like”—I lower my voice in imitation of her—“I’ll go stir-crazy doing nothing all day! I won’t sponge off my own daughter just so I can sit on my heinie.”

He lets out a bark of laughter. “That sounds like Val, all right. She’s a real—”

“Stubborn battle-ax?”

“I was going to say ‘a real independent lady.’ But you know, I think she’d take ‘stubborn battle-ax’ as a compliment.”

“She probably would.” I chuckle affectionately.

“So now that you’ve got the perfect degree, the perfect job, and the perfect boyfriend . . .” He bounces his eyebrows until I snort at him. “What’s next on the world-domination agenda?”

“If I have the perfect boyfriend, then you tell me?” I ask. “I still wonder how I could ever compete with Roxy. Being sexy is literally her job.”

My tone is joking, but Hayden fixes me with a solemn look. “You don’t have to. Naomi and I had a good run, but it ended years ago. She’s enjoying the single life now . . . and I’ve found what I was looking for all along.” He takes my hand, his expression softening into adoration. “I love you, Emery. So much.”

Emotion knots in my throat. “I . . . I love you too,” I stammer, smiling and blinking back tears for the second time tonight. I’m still so new to those three little words—both hearing and saying them—that they touch my heart every time. But the mood has become way too serious for what’s supposed to be a celebration. So I rub his knuckles with my thumb and purr, “Still, I’m sure she must have taught you a few things. Why don’t we go back to your place and practice?”

Understanding dawns on his face and he grins, suddenly all mischief again. “Excuse me,” Hayden calls out. “Can we get the check?”

The waiter hustles over. “No dessert this evening, sir?”

“We’ll be having dessert at home,” I interrupt smoothly.

The waiter nods and leaves, and Hayden winks at me. I roll my eyes with a chuckle.

• • •

We barely get through Hayden’s door before we’re glued to each other, making out like teenagers. I nip his lower lip, then draw back when he makes a brief, husky noise. “Go sit down,” I order. “There’s something I want to do.”

“Well, well. Someone’s feeling bossy tonight.” Despite his back talk, he’s already walking over to the couch.

I raise one eyebrow. “Will that be a problem?”

He grins. “Not at all, ma’am.”

Letting my hips sway, I stroll to a spot just out of his reach. Under his appreciative eyes, I reach back and undo my zipper, pulling it down slowly. I slide the gown’s straps over my shoulders to reveal first my cleavage, then my lacy black bra. He watches with a wolfish smile and tented pants as I finally let the silky material pool around my feet.

“Damn . . . I didn’t know you’d be wearing a thong,” he purrs.

“If I told you, we never would have made it to the restaurant.” I step out of the gown, now standing in only my lingerie, jewelry, and shoes. “Should I leave my heels on?”

He leans forward to caress me, watching his hands slide down over the curve from waist to hip to thigh. The tip of his tongue flickers over his lips, as if imagining how I taste, and I shiver at the sight as much as his touch.