Lost in Paradise (Paradise Club #2)(50)
“That sounds nice,” I answer.
“Good.” He grins before jumping out of the car and rounds the front to open the passenger door. He holds out a hand to help me out of the car, and once I’m standing, he opens the back passenger door and grabs my bag and flowers. Then he follows me up a couple of steps to my front door before placing the flowers on top of my overnight bag. He reaches out, cups my face, and kisses me ever so gently before pulling away with a smirk. “Good night, Ivy.” He starts backing away, and my legs feel weak after his kiss, and it takes me a couple of beats to realize what I’m supposed to do. So I turn around and unlock my front door before bending down and grabbing my bag and flowers. Alex has made his way back to his car and is standing there watching me. I give him a small wave before disappearing back inside my home, where I let out a sigh. I flick on the lights as my phone beeps, and I look down.
Alex: I didn’t hear your door lock. Lock it.
In a heartbeat, I do as he asks and flick the deadbolt. That’s when I hear his engine start, and he drives away.
19
ALEX
It took everything I had to walk away from Ivy the other night, especially after feeling the taste of her lips against my own, but I had to. I want us to start over, to get to know each other outside of Paradise. I want to date Ivy before I take her to bed because she deserves that.
So then, why am I nervous about this date?
We’ve texted each other most days since I picked Ivy up from the airport, but tonight is the first time we’ve been able to catch up in a week.
I pull up in front of her home and press the doorbell, then I hear heels against the floorboards as she clatters toward the door, and seconds later, it opens. She looks up at me with a smile that stops my heart, and I even blink a couple of times while taking in her stunning look. Ivy is dressed in a white feather halter evening dress, her blonde hair is pulled up into a tight ponytail, and she smells like berries.
“Hi, sorry I’m running a bit late. Liv called, and I was trying to help her with her life,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “Let me go grab my purse. Come in, you’re getting wet outside.” Ivy turns around, and that’s when I notice her dress is backless. Dammit, she looks mighty fine. She walks down a white hallway with herringbone flooring, and as I follow, I pass a set of stairs on my right, but we are heading toward the kitchen and dining room.
The kitchen appears to be Carrara marble with white gloss cupboards. There’s a wine refrigerator tucked under the counter, top-of-the-line appliances—I wouldn’t expect anything less from a designer—and yet it feels homely with special touches like perfect artwork and special knick-knacks scattered but in a minimalistic way. I spy my roses from last week sitting in the middle of her island counter, and they’re still blooming. I add the other bouquet I brought with me tonight beside it. This time I chose some white roses for something different.
Ivy grabs her purse and turns around. “They are beautiful … roses are one of my favorite flowers. You don’t need to buy flowers for me all the time,” she says as she brings the roses to her nose and inhales them.
“But I want to,” I tell her honestly.
Ivy turns and looks up at me. “Well, thank you. I do love flowers. I’m so used to buying them for myself.” Well then, I really need to up my game. “Shall we go?”
I reach out and take her hand in mine, and we walk back down the hallway. Once we reach the coat rack, I let go long enough for her to grab her coat and lock the door. Then I place a hand at the small of her back as I open the car door for her. She slides in, I close it again, and walk around to take the driver’s seat.
“May I ask where we are going?”
“Somewhere special,” I say, giving her a wink. I want to do something different from the boring fancy restaurants where I would normally take a woman on a date. Of course, there will be good food and wine, but I want an experience, and I hope Ivy likes that I have put some thought into it.
Eventually, we make it through the traffic to Paddington.
“Why have you brought me to the docks?” she questions as we get out of my car. Shit, have I made the wrong decision? I thought she’d think this was cute. Shit. Shit. Shit. My internal panic meter just went up several notches.
“Um … because the restaurant is here,” I answer nervously.
Ivy’s eyes widen as the little blue canal boat catches her attention as she looks further up the dock.
“We’re going on one of those little boats?” she asks. I nod, not sure if the date is going to be a disaster or not by her reaction so far.
“Oh my god, I love it.” She squeals with delight. “I’ve seen them before and always wondered what they would be like.”
Thank fuck, I can relax now.
I take her hand and walk over to where they’re waiting for us. The canal boat crew welcomes and helps us onboard. I’ve rented the entire boat for us tonight to putter along Regent’s Canal. There’s a long table set for us with a white tablecloth, glasses, and silverware with candles scattered along the table and vases full of flowers. It’s simple yet hopefully romantic enough for her to enjoy the ambiance and feel of what I am trying to portray to Ivy. The canal boat is decked out in tiny fairy lights, which is its only source of light throughout the cabin. As I requested the evening to be private, the staff has set up a champagne bucket and red and white wine on the table. A warm woolen blanket is set down beside Ivy if she becomes chilly. Maybe I should have warned her to wear something warmer than the stunning dress she’s wearing.