I put my hand in Gideon’s and slid out of the car, the gravel crunching under my heels. “Thank you for today,” I said, shivering as his hands slid up to wrap around my elbows. My fingers came to rest above his belt, the muscles below twitching. “I had a good time.”
The house behind us stood ominously in the dark, only a few of its windows lit up.
A cool breeze ruffled through my shirt, the lapels of Gideon’s jacket flapping gently against my arms. I shivered once more. “Me too,” he admitted, squeezing my elbows before stroking me absently. “We should do it again sometime. Maybe on a day that Antione isn’t working.”
The stuffy Frenchman didn’t strike me as the type to ever stop working, he’d seemed inordinately pleased with his restaurant. As he should, the food was delicious. The des
