The moment she does, all the air stalls in my lungs, making it hard to breathe. The hostess greets her with a friendly smile and Amelia smiles in return and nods, running her fingers through her hair as she tucks a few strands behind her ear, revealing a diamond stud that twinkles in the light. She’s dressed all in black. Black pants, loose black top, thin black sweater over it. Simple, yet so damn pretty.

Too pretty for me, and I know it.

The hostess points over at me and Amelia nods before she heads my way, that small smile still curling her lips. They’re not as red as they were at the wedding, but they’re still pretty. A deep, rosy pink. I rise to my feet and step toward her, pulling her in for the quickest hug and dropping a soft kiss on her cheek before I pull away.

“Sorry I’m late,” she apologizes.

“You are?” I shake my head. “I had no idea.”

Her gaze sweeps over me. “You clean up good.”

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” I don’t even bother apologizing, and she laughs.

“Don’t think I’ve ever been called that before.” She pulls out of my grip, almost reluctantly, and glances over at the table. “Shall we sit?”

I reach for her chair and pull it out. “Ladies first.”

She settles in and I sit across from her, staring at her face like a lovestruck fool. She is truly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever gone on a date with in my life. “Have you been here before?”

Amelia slowly shakes her head. “I actually haven’t. I work such long hours, I’m usually eager to get out of here and just go home.”

“Where is home?” I ask.

“I have an apartment in Monterey.”

“Me too,” I say. “You live alone?”

She nods, a tiny smile playing upon her rosy lips. “You don’t?”

“I have a couple of roommates.” I’m sure this makes me seem like a kid in her eyes, which I guess I am considering I’m five years younger than her. But hey, what’s five years in the scheme of life, huh? I know if we were still in school, it’s a huge difference, but we’re consenting adults.

The server magically appears, nodding toward Amelia. “Good evening. May I show you the wine list?”

“I would love to see it.” Her gaze meets mine. “Or did you already order something for us?”

I don’t know shit about wine. “I thought I’d leave it up to the expert.”

The server hands her the wine menu and she glances over it, her brows knitting together, her mouth forming into a little frown. I stare at her, completely entranced, hoping I don’t blow this because I could get real used to spending lots of time with this woman, real quick.

Once she’s ordered a bottle for us, the server leaves us to check over the menu.

“I’m starving,” I tell her in warning. “I’m considering appetizers.”

“The fried calamari sounds delicious.” When I glance up, I find she’s watching me. “I’m starving too. I ate lunch around noon and never got a chance to grab a snack.”