Page 118 of Havoc's Fox

“Wow. You are so very beautiful,” Havoc said approaching her and offering her his arm to lead her down the steps.

“Thank you. You are just…” she turned to look at him as they walked to his truck, “I am stunned. Truly stunned.”

“Good stunned?” he asked.

“Good stunned,” she said. “You cut your hair.”

“Just a reminder of all the changes you can’t see. And if you like this, then prepare yourself; the night has only just begun.”

As they drove to the restaurant, he kept up a constant commentary telling her about himself as though they’d never met. “So, I can do just about anything needed on a job site. I’ve learned hands on, which is I’ve found, the best way for me personally to learn. I don’t date much. I have a six-year-old daughter that is my world, and I spend all my free time with her. I’ve lived in Missouri with my sister and brother-in-law since she was born, but I’m thinking it might be time to head back home. I miss my own generation, you know? My home, my place.”

“I do know. I get the same feelings often,” she said.

He glanced her way quickly so as not to take his eyes off the road, but to show her he was listening. “Do you? I had no idea you were feeling the call of home.”

“I’m not sure that I’ve ever really felt settled since I left home. Not that I’d have had time to be settled because I travel the world. Six months in one place, eight in another.”

“How did you find your career, was it your goal?” he asked.

“I’ve always loved history. And truthfully, I think part of the reason I went into history was because of me reaching for something to ground me. What has more roots than history?” she asked.

Havoc smiled. “I get that.”

“Anyway, I’ve always been very gifted at art as well, and found that I have a gift for restoration of antiquities. That coupled with my history degree landed me in a unique position to apply for the job of restorer at the museum where I work. After a while I started being invited to digs to help the archaeologists properly preserve the pieces they find until they could be returned to the museum where I could finally get the chance to properly restore them. So, lots of time in the field, lots of time in the lab restoring. Lots of history. Lots of alone time,” she said softly, realizing as she spoke just how much time she spent alone. “It’s very, very lonely. I don’t think I want to be alone so much anymore.”

“I’m sure you have men interested in you. You’re gorgeous, intelligent, interesting.”

“I tend to only allow those I cannot see myself with long term to even strike up a conversation. And that’s usually because they don’t want long term either, so it’s…”

“Safe,” he said.

Analise looked at him. “Safe,” she agreed.

“Here we are,” he said, pulling into the parking lot. “Place must be good, it’s packed and it’s 8:30!”

“I haven’t eaten here in years, but it used to be delicious.”

Havoc smiled, but his smile held a little sadness. “I’ve never eaten here. I wish with everything I have that I’d have given it a chance when it first opened.” He got out and walked quickly around the truck, opened the door and held her hand as she got out.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome.” Havoc walked slowly, holding firmly to her hand as he escorted her to the restaurant, then inside. She heard him tell the host that they had reservations and they were escorted past everyone waiting and to a table that was already set for two. Almost the moment they were seated a waitress appeared and poured them both a cup of warm Saki.

The entire time they ate, they chatted like they’d never been on a date before. Analise was thoroughly enjoying herself. Tasting bits of Havoc’s sushi, and offering him samples of hers. Two hours later when they couldn’t eat another bite, Havoc finally paid their bill. He pulled out her chair and held her hand as she stood, then escorted her out to his truck.

“I really enjoyed dinner with you.”

“I did, too! I don’t want it to end,” she said happily.

Havoc grinned at her. “Would you like to go dancing?”

Her smile fell. “You dance?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it dancing, but I’ll do my best not to step on your toes,” he admitted.

Analise laughed, and the sound touched him like almost nothing else ever would. “I’d love to go dancing.”

“Vince’s? He’s my uncle. I don’t think you knew that.”