Page 58 of Avenging Angel

I reached, wrapped my fingers around his biceps and squeezed, temporarily thrown by the steel I encountered that had zero give, even if he wasn’t flexing, but not thrown enough not to interrupt him.

“Stop worrying about me,” I urged. “It’s sweet, you being protective. But something to know about me, for the most part, I let it all hang out. But you know what I went through, and I’ve had a lot of time to deal and process, find tools and seek counseling, all of which I’ve done, in order to maintain a healthy mental state. I can’t say it doesn’t get to me sometimes, honey. But this…I’ve got a lock on this. Okay?”

He lifted up his hand, and I knew he wanted me to give him mine. So I did.

He held it to his (also steely,nice) thigh and only then replied, “Okay.”

We drove to Elsie Fay’s house and I took it out of the heavy by asking where we were going for dinner.

It got much lighter when he shared we were going to Vincent’s then hitting Platform 18 for after-dinner cocktails.

Learning this, I girlie squealed with zero shame.

I did this because Vincent’s was a James Beard award-winning restaurant that was very expensive, so I’d never been there, but had always (but always!) wanted to go.

And Platform 18 was at Century Grand. It was a faux, swanky rail car with windows that were screens that made it look like you were winding through a winter wonderland of mountains (or whatever). They served artisan cocktails that were supposed to be almost as good as Jessie’s. You had to make a booking, including dropping a wad just to get that booking, to go there. You then had an hour and a half to down as many cocktails as you could before you were ousted for the next set of drinkers to come in.

I’d never been there either, and Luna, Jess, Harlow and I had talked about going for ages. We’d just never found the time to get our shit together and go.

“For someone who hasn’t lived in Phoenix for very long, you sourced the perfect date, my friend,” I told him.

He didn’t reply.

But he did squeeze my hand.

Not long later, he pulled to a stop in front of a house, and I couldn’t say I’d lied to him about being cool with this visit, but now that it was here, I had to admit I was a little rattled.

Cap either sensed my mood shift or just got it, because he didn’t let my hand go and turned to me rather than switching off the ignition.

“I’m right here,” he said shaking my hand. “To make our reservation, we have to leave in no more than twenty minutes. But you give me the sign, Rachel, I’ll get us out of there in five if that’s what you need.”

Yep.

This so totally could be the guy.

I nodded.

He stared in my eyes, going so deep, I sensed him probing the heart of me.

He must have felt okay with what he saw there, because he said, “Let’s go.”

Only then did he release my hand and turn off the car.

He took it again as we walked up the drive.

The door was open before we hit the walkway to it, and Elsie Fay’s dad was standing there.

I knew his name was Ben. His wife’s name was Emily.

Cap pulled me a little back and took the lead when we made it to him, offering his hand.

“Ben,” he said as Ben took it.

“Julien, right?”

“Yeah,” Cap said then turned to me. “This is Rachel.”

I shoved my sunglasses up and offered my hand. “Hi, Ben.”