Page 25 of Triple Protection

We walk into the only fine dining restaurant with availability I could find with Angela on my arm. And yep, I was right. Every head turns to see her, and she's onmyarm. I pull her chair out for her and she gives me a wide smile before sitting. I don't think she's stopped smiling the entire ride here.

"So, is this a typical date? Or a Liam date?"

"A Liam date?"

"Yeah, like, your signature date. Something you do with all the ladies."

"I'll be honest, I don't usually date. It's easier to pick girls up at bars or clubs for what I want." Momentarily, I'm embarrassed. I don't regret my hookups in the past, but I'm afraid they aren't painting me in a good light now.

"Oh, yeah?" She whispers, leaning forward conspiratorially. The smile never wavers from her face, so I take that to mean she isn't judging me. "So, does that mean this is special?"

I reach out and hold her hand. "Very special."

The waiter comes and we order before settling in with our glasses of wine.

"So tell me, how do you pick up girls at a bar? I want to see the Liam special."

I chuckle. "Well, usually I'll offer to buy them a drink. They'll look me up and down and decide if they want to pursue something. If they say yes, I break out my patented pick up lines."

"Oh my God, Ihaveto hear them."

"Alright, but be prepared to fall in love with me." I lace my fingers together before pressing my hands outward, cracking my knuckles. I lean forward and put on a serious face.

"Can I call you exercise? Because you're something I should be doing and certainly aren't yet."

Angela squeals and claps her hands before wiggling in her seat in delight. I don't care that half the restaurant turned to stare at the sound. The sound of her joy belongs to me now and I would give anything to hear it again.

So I throw another at her. "Are you a staircase? Because you look like you could use a railing." Angela snort-laughs before covering her mouth with her napkin.

"Do you work at a library? Because I'm checking you out."

She's laughing so hard at this point she has tears streaming down her face, and she's dramatically waving her hands at her face.

"Stop it, stop it. I can't take anymore. Those aregold. Do those actually work? Like, have you taken a girl home after calling her a staircase?!"

I glance behind her and see the maître d' debating on coming over to us and telling us to keep it down.

I shake my head, laughing. "No, but it usually makes women laugh, and it opens them up to further conversation. That's when I break out the flirting and innuendo to seal the deal."

"Oh my God, you're an absolute master at this. Color me impressed."

The rest of the dinner passes quickly with easy, playful banter.

After dinner, we take a quick drive to a multi-tiered golf driving range. Each bay has its own table with a score screen, pick of clubs and a waiter to bring us all the food and drink we could ever want.

The wine at dinner has calmed her a bit, but she still simmers with excitement.

"I've never done anything like this before!" she says, gripping my bicep. I'm not too proud to say I flex it just for her benefit. She squeezes it appreciatively before letting it go. We order some more drinks to keep the pleasant buzz going as we loosen up to hit a few balls. She slices the first few, which either only go a few feet, or wildly out to the side.

"You know I don't have an athletic bone in my body." She says self-deprecatingly. "My brother got all the athletic genes in the family. My sister got all the brains and I just..." she trails off.

"Got all the beauty?" I offer. Most women love being told they were beautiful, but Angela's shoulders fall. Fuck. She isn't like most women. I know that already. "I'm sorry." I backtrack quickly. I reach out to pull her hand into mine and dip to meet her eyes. "I mean, of course you're beautiful, but you're not only beautiful. You're smart and kind and giving. You're sassy and fun when you really cut loose, but you're also reserved and careful. You're a lot of things, Angela, not just beautiful." I's babbling now and she knows it.

She stares at me for a beat while I hold my breath. She looks at me with a reserved, attentive smile.

"You know, I know you have a million followers, who get to look at pictures of you every day, but I'm none of themseeyou. None of them get to see what kind of woman you really are."

She gives me a little gasp, as if I've guessed exactly what she was thinking.