Take Me for Granted (Take Me #1)(26)

We walked out to his truck, and I hopped up into the passenger seat.

“Hope you don’t mind a little drive,” he said.

“Where are we going?”

He smiled at me. “Down the shore.”

It was an hour before we arrived at a small pizza place. It didn’t look like much with a small sign that read Duffie’s overhead, but the parking lot was jam-packed. I was a little worried about finding a table, but Grant didn’t seem to have any anxiety.

We hopped out of the truck and Grant came around to my side. When he saw the concern on my face, he just laughed and took my hand. “Come on, Princess. It’s the best pizza I’ve ever had. You do like pizza, right?”

Uncertainty crossed his face for a moment, but then it disappeared as soon as I nodded.

We walked into the building together, and a hostess greeted us. Every single table in the place was filled. Waiters were carrying trays of drinks and pizza and joking around with customers. The restaurant had an energy about it that made me relax. I hadn’t known what to expect with Grant, but I was kind of glad he hadn’t taken me anywhere fancy. That was what I typically went for, but that didn’t seem like Grant to me.

“Great. Thanks,” Grant said to the hostess.

“This way,” she said.

We followed her through the crowd, out a set of double doors, and onto a balcony overlooking the ocean. Exactly one table was unoccupied, and it had to be the best seat in the place. How are we so lucky?

I sat across from Grant and waited for the hostess to leave before speaking. “This is…really nice. How did you find this place?”

“I used to come here a lot when I was younger.”

“Oh, really? Are you from the area?” I asked, leaning forward. For the first time, I realized that I knew next to nothing about the man in front of me.

“Moved here from Knoxville when I was ten, and I’ve been here ever since.” He looked a little sheepish before admitting, “This was actually my first job. I worked here through most of high school.”

I’d never pictured him working, which was out of the ballpark of normalcy for me. What do you do?—that had been the only question that really mattered in my parents’ circle of friends.

“I bet you brought all the girls here,” I said lightly. Yes, bringing up other girls is smart on the first date.

“Uh…no, not really.”

“No?”

“I didn’t have to take girls out. I guess this would be the first time.”

I gaped at him.

“So, how am I doing?” Grant asked, spreading his arms wide.

The first time? Like, his first date ever?

No. No way. That can’t be right.

Surely, someone like Grant had had tons of girls flocking for his attention in high school. He’d had to date someone…sometime.

Right?

The longer I stared at him with that smirk on his face, the more I saw the layer underneath. He was…nervous. Grant McDermott was nervous to be on a date with me.

“You’re doing great,” I reassured him. I couldn’t believe it, but so far, this was better than the dates I’d gone on with guys from Princeton.

“Grant!” an older man said as he walked up to our table. “So good to see you home again and with such a beautiful date.”

“It’s good to be back, Randy. This is my friend Aribel.”

“It is a true pleasure, Aribel.” The man took my hand in his, large and strong from use. He had kind eyes and a welcoming smile.

“Randy’s the owner,” Grant filled in for me.

“Oh, well, I love your restaurant.”

“Bah! You haven’t even tasted the food!” He glanced at Grant and laughed. “I like her.”

Grant seemed completely comfortable when his eyes shifted from Randy’s back to mine. “I like her, too.”

My cheeks heated, and I looked away from him. I couldn’t figure out how Grant made my stomach flip the way it did. I’d always been so logical, practical…and he threw those qualities out the window with only a smile.

“We’ll have the special and some water. Unless you want something else?” he asked me hesitantly.

“That sounds fine.”

Randy picked up the unopened menus from the table. “Don’t be a stranger, Grant,” he said before leaving.

“You’ve been incredibly accommodating tonight,” Grant said. “I keep waiting for a snarky comment.”

I shrugged. “Well, you haven’t made any ass**le sexual comments yet.”

“I could if you like.”

“Oh, yes, my dream in life is to be sexually objectified every chance I get.”

He cracked a smile. “There she is.”

“Does it ever get tiring?”

“What?” he asked, leaning in closer to me.

“The sexual objectification, the constant stream of girls. Don’t you ever just want more?”

“Babe, I’m usually getting more.”

“Ugh! Not what I meant,” I said, turning my face out to the ocean. “You’ve never been on a date before. From everything I’ve heard about you…you sleep with women and then never talk to them again.” I could feel the heat of his gaze on my face, and I forced myself to look at him. “Haven’t you ever thought there was more to a relationship than that?”