“So, this is what it’s like being on a date with you.” Dana hesitated—caught herself. “This isn’t a date, is it?

Her voice flattened and she took a sip of wine. “Oh, I’m not belittling your gesture, bringing me to this fine establishment. But it isn’t a date because you’re seeing that woman, aren’t you? The one you asked me for advice about.”

Alex fidgeted. Idiot.  Asking Dana how to recognize the signs a woman was interested––what had he been thinking? What could be more awkward? This. This was definitely up there on the list of more awkward moments.

“You’ve always been straight with me,” she said, holding the wine glass in midair.

That little flash of skin whenever she raises her arm.  He picked up his wine glass. At this rate, he’d have to order a second bottle, simply to block his mind from going where it shouldn’t.

“Alex, do it again, be straight.”

He leaned in, took the glass from her hand, and put it on the table. “Come closer,” he said. “I want to whisper sweet somethings in your ear.”

She bent toward him, a puzzled but amused expression percolating, her face glowing in the subtle lighting.

“Yes?” Her voice throaty, challenging.

“This is a date,” he said and tilted his head, brushed her lips with his, pulled back slightly, and did it again.