“Nothing that can’t wait.” Kaz’s phone buzzes, and he checks the screen. “Alexander. The man can’t rest for five minutes without coming up with some other job he wants done. Megan should take him on a vacation. A long, extended vacation far away from Chicago. On a boat preferably, somewhere there’s no cellphones or internet.”
“And here I was thinking marriage had aged you.”
When he glances back up from his phone, the carefree brother I grew up chasing with a water gun smiles back at me.
“I’ll talk with you later. I need to handle him before he gives himself a heart attack.” He starts typing feverishly on his phone as he leaves.
“Finish your packing. I have one more thing I need to handle. But tonight, I’m taking you out. Be ready at eight.”
“Out? Like to a club?” I scrunch up my nose at the prospect of all those people and noise. What has this man done to me? I’ve turned into a domesticated house cat.
“No.” He kisses my cheek. “Eight o’clock.”
Before I can ask anything else, he’s gone, too. And once more, I’m alone.
Cold wind blows into the foyer, carrying with it dried, dead leaves and Artem.
I’m about to make a joke about him bringing in the dead with him, but my brain short circuits at the sight of him.
He’s wearing a suit.
Not just any suit, but a black, tailored to fit every muscle of his body, suit. Getting the suit jacket around his broad shoulders alone must have taken a miracle, but whatever little magical mice helped put together this outfit saved a little pixie dust for the rest of him. There’s even a shine to his shoes.
The little black slip dress I chose feels like a rag compared to him.
“You look beautiful,” he murmurs, taking my hands and pulling into him for a kiss.
“I look like a homeless beggar next to you.” I laugh, running my fingers over the soft lapels of his suit jacket. “I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen you in a suit.”
He’s a dress slacks and button-down sort of man, not a tie and jacket. But he makes it look good. Devastatingly good. I’m not sure I want to go out for dinner anymore.
He cups my chin, tipping my head back and kissing me before muttering, “We should go. If we stay, I’ll have you upstairs in bed instead of dinner.”
I laugh. “I’m okay with that.”
“No.” He shakes his head with a serious expression. “Tonight, we’re going out.”
“Okay, well, let me at least change. I have a nicer dress.”
He snags my elbow as I try to turn. “You’re perfect.”
My cheeks heat at the way he’s staring at me. Like he’d rather have me served up on a dish instead of whatever the kitchen will be serving at the restaurant.
“Maybe we should go,” I say, swallowing. My mouth is dry because all fluids have been redirected to my panties.
Seriously, there has to be a diagnosis to go along with my sort of crazy.
He takes the wrap from my hands and places it around my shoulders. “It’s cold tonight, you should be wearing a coat.”
“If it gets too chilly, we’ll just have to use our combined body heat to warm us up.”
Another low growl rumbles his chest. “Let’s go.”
The drive across town feels like it takes forever with all the red lights we hit. It’s almost as if the city is trying to keep us from getting to dinner.
I’m expecting him to take us to one of Kaz’s restaurants, so I’m surprised when he pulls up to the valet at Le Jardin Noir. It’sone of the most elite French restaurants in Chicago. People wait months to get a reservation.
“How did you get a reservation here?” I ask as he grabs his phone from the console and the valet rounds the car to his door.