Dare to Love by user (fun books to read for adults .txt) 📕

He gunned the engine loud enough for her father to hear. It roared in her ears and

vibrated her seat. Massive, powerful, the truck was like barely contained testosterone on

wheels.

Which pretty much described Jake Dalton. He slipped the car into gear and peeled away from the curb, burning rubber in his wake. Lucy hid the smile that lifted the corners

of her mouth as she spied her father’s rigid stance at the front window.

“Fiancé, huh?” he asked.

“No. No fiancé.”

“I guess we’re lucky you got out of there when you did.”

“Why?”

“You might have been grounded and we’d have had to cancel our date tonight.”

“Very funny.” She was not in the mood for laughs made at her expense, since she was mortified at her father’s behavior, and Jake wasn’t making it any easier. “Can we just

drop it?”

“Why? Don’t you think it’s funny?”

“Not in the least.” Now she wished she hadn’t agreed to the date after all. It was clear he was going to tease her all evening.

“Lighten up, Lucille,” he said, accentuating her name.

“My name is Lucy.”

“Is it?”

“All right. It’s Lucille.”

“After?”

She turned to him with a frown. “After?”

“Yeah. Surely your parents wouldn’t name you that on a whim.” Now he hated her name. Lovely. “What’s wrong with Lucille?”

“Nothing. It’s just not…”

“Not what?”

“I dunno. Doesn’t seem to suit you, I guess.”

“I was named after my grandmother.”

“Ah. Figured it was something like that. But I like the name Lucy. It fits you.”

“Fits? How?”

When they stopped at a red light, he reached out and grasped an escaping tendril of

her uncontrollable hair, letting it slide slowly through his fingers. She shivered at the

brush of his knuckles against her cheek. “Short and sassy. Like you.”

“Oh.” She studied him, looking for signs of some joke at her expense, but he only turned his eyes back to the road.

Wow, it was really warm in the truck now.

The radio played softly in the background. Country music. She stole glances at him,

watching as he tapped his fingers in time to a song about lost love and broken hearts.

“Where are we going?” She noticed they’d headed over the Bay Bridge into the east

bay.

“It’s a surprise,” he answered, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Um, am I dressed appropriately?”

He glanced at her briefly, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “You look fine.”

Fine? What did that mean? Could there be a more nondescript word than fine?

For

all she knew that was manspeak for hideous. She leaned against the door and rubbed her

forehead with her index finger, feeling the beginning strains of a headache. This whole

night had been a disaster so far. She’d be glad when it was over.

They pulled into Robbie’s Ribs, a one frame building that looked more like a farmhouse than a restaurant.

“You like ribs?” Jake asked as he opened her door.

“I don’t know.”

He tilted his head and expertly cocked one brow in question. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I’ve never had ribs.”

Jake shook his head. “Figures.”

“What figures?”

“Nothing. Come on.”

He grabbed her hand and started off. His hand was warm, his fingers entwined with

hers. The simplest gesture and it probably meant nothing to him, but Lucy felt tingles all

the way to her toes. His grip was firm and he walked very close to her, his shoulder

brushing hers all the way inside.

He held the door open for her, put his hand on the small of her back to lead her inside.

He liked to touch her. She noticed that.

She liked it.

She didn’t want to like it.

But she did.

Interesting choice of restaurant for a date. The place was packed. And loud.

Unlike

anything Lucy had ever experienced. Entire families ate here, at tables that looked like

dark picnic benches. Out of little plastic baskets lined with paper. And they ate with their

fingers.

It smelled both sweet and spicy. Warm, and full of laughter. A family restaurant.

She followed Jake to a cafeteria style counter where they slid trays along, telling the

person behind the glass what to scoop on their plates. Not knowing what to choose, she

relied on Jake’s suggestion and ended up with a huge pile of ribs, beans, coleslaw and

bread. They grabbed one of the smaller picnic tables and sat.

Okay, now what? Ribs and barbecue sauce, which she was supposed to eat with her

fingers. The white sweater she’d chosen was fast looking like a bad choice of attire.

“Are you going to stare at the food all night or are you going to eat it?” She looked up at Jake. “Um, how?”

He grinned and shook his head. “Lost without twelve utensils on each side, aren’t you, honey?”

“Smartass.”

He laughed, clearly not at all insulted. “They’re ribs. Pick them up and eat with your

fingers.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Everyone gets messy. It’s allowed.”

He dug into his meal, sauce lined on the sides of his mouth, seemingly unaffected by

her dilemma. She couldn’t very well try to cut a centimeter-sized piece of meat off the

bone, now could she? With as much decorum as she could manage, she picked up a rib

and bit into it.

She bit back a moan. Dear God, it was delicious. The meat was tender and fell off the bone into her mouth. The tangy sauce tickled her taste buds with its sweet and spicy

flavor, and she found herself devouring the meal. She even licked her fingers. By the time

she’d finished and wiped her hands, she looked up and found Jake watching her.

Intently.

“What?” she asked, sliding her tongue across her lips in case some barbecue sauce

had failed to be swept away by her napkin.

“Don’t do that.” His gaze never left her mouth.

“Don’t do what?”

“Lick your lips like that.”

She stopped in the middle of her frantic tongue swiping and looked around. The only

person who had an eye on her was Jake. “Why not?”

“It turns me on,” he said with a wicked grin.

In an instant her throat went dry and her toes curled in her tennis shoes. “It does?”

“Yeah. Don’t you know what a woman licking her lips like that does to a man?”

“Um, no.” To the best of her recollection, no man had ever told her she turned him

on. Especially not during dinner.

“You