Barely Breathing(11)

“It’s so damn hard to find dress shirts that fit,” I said, groaning. “He’s big, like us.”

“Tell him to have some made. I know a real good tailor.”

I grunted my agreement. “And what about after dinner? Is that it? Does he take her home after that?”

“If she’s a ho.”

My eyes widened in horror. “No. No, she’s not a ho.”

“Then he should take her out dancing or for a carriage ride or for a walk. Maybe to a movie.”

I nodded. “Okay, I’ll let him know. Thanks, man.”

My gaze was drawn to the stairway, where Viv and her friend were walking down arm in arm. Viv turned to the blond with a wide, dazzling smile and my pulse sped up. I felt a sudden, burning desire for her to smile that way at me, which probably made me an epic *.

I had shit to do to get ready for this date, and I wanted to get everything right. I had to go to the tailor for a shirt, get my short beard trimmed up by a barber and make a reservation at the steakhouse Rosie had recommended.

Viv’s gaze washed over the crowd as she neared the door. Was she looking for me? I hoped like hell she was. She’d soon realize she was way out of my league, but until then, I’d soak up the feeling of a woman like her looking at me like I was something besides a thug. Like I was better than I really was. It felt damned good.



I was sitting down to eat dinner in my office Tuesday night when I figured I’d get my phone call to Viv out of the way so I could stop worrying do damn much about it. I’d turned into a pimply kid with a crush, but thank f*ck no one but me knew it.

“Hello?” she said, her tone all-business.

“Viv. Hey, it’s Kane.”

“Hi,” she said, her voice warm and silky now. “How are you?”

“Not bad. How bout you?”

She sighed lightly. “I’m good. Just got home from the gym. I’m making ramen noodles.”

“Ramen noodles?” I wrinkled my face in disgust. “That shit’s not even edible.”

“Old habits die hard,” she said, a smile in her tone. “I was so broke through college and law school that I actually started to like this stuff.”

“Well, I’m planning something better for this weekend. Is Friday night good for you?”

“Perfect. Should I meet you somewhere?”

“No, I’ll pick you up . . . if that’s okay.”

I’d realized halfway through my sentence that she might not want me to know where she lived.

“That’d be great,” she said. “I’ll text you my address.”

“Okay. Dinner reservation’s at seven, so pick you up at six-thirty?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before she spoke. “We don’t have to go anywhere fancy, you know. I’m good with pizza or burgers if you’d rather.”

Aggravation flared inside me. Did she assume I only liked to eat at dives that matched my rough appearance?

“I already booked us at Emerson’s,” I said gruffly.

“Okay, that sounds great. I insist on splitting the check, though, since going out was my idea.”

I held the phone away from my ear as I rolled my eyes. What I really wanted to do was beat the goddamned thing against my desk.

“Like hell,” I ground out. “It’s a date, Vivian, so I’m paying. Don’t worry, I’m not broke or anything.”

“I never said–” She interrupted herself. “Wait, Vivian? Am I in trouble or something?”

Her amusement exasperated the f*ck out of me.

“You’re damn close, woman. You wanna be wined and dined or not?”

She gave a low hum that sounded a lot like satisfaction. My cock stirred to life from the sound.

“By you?” she said. “I most definitely do.”

“I’ll see you Friday, Viv.”

“I’ll be waiting.”



I pulled on the collar of my shirt and grunted. This f*cking thing was about to strangle me. I hadn’t worn a dress shirt since I was a kid, and this was why.

And a tie? I’d never worn one before tonight. It had taken more than an hour and four different Youtube videos to get the damn thing tied.

Stopping at Viv’s door, I took in a deep breath and let it out.

Game face, Kane. It’s only a date.

I reached up and knocked high on the deep purple steel door, avoiding the flowery wreath hanging on it.

She opened it and I swallowed hard. That smile. It made me feel something I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around. And her outfit had me shifting my hips in an effort to discreetly adjust myself. She wore a fitted black dress that skimmed over all her curves just right and bright red heels.

“Hey,” she said, stepping aside so I could walk in.

“Wow. You look . . .” Fucking hot. Sexy as hell. But I couldn’t say those things to her. “ . . . really good.”

“Thank you.”

She picked up a red fabric thing and her purse from a chair.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Yeah. Can you . . . ?” She handed me the red thing and turned around, lifting up her hair.

Oh, hell. Her neck was smooth and creamy. I fought an urge to reach out and touch it. I wanted to wrap one hand around the back of her neck, reach around her waist and just take her in. Slide my hand up into that long, dark hair and pull her back flush against my front. Let her feel how hard she’d made me.