He levels me with a stern sort of look.

“I was kidding about the murder.”

“Brenden,” he says, voice soft now. “We should go.”

“On the date?” I whisper, shocked.

“Grant gave the restaurant his credit card to pay for it. He’ll notice if there’s never any charge.”

“Oh, right,” I say dumbly. “I didn’t think of that.” Of course he doesn’t want to go on a date with me.

“Plus, it sounds nice,” he says, leaning in closer over the counter until I can smell his cologne. “You know I don’t get out much.”

“Pretty sure that’s by choice.”

“True, but if it’s with you... I wouldn’t mind.”

He shifts his gaze slightly away from me after that admission.

My heart is now beating out a bouncy, happy song. “You want to go on a date with me?”

His eyes fly back to mine. He looks unsure, and for a second, I think he’s going to grunt something at me to play it off. But then he says, “Yeah. I do.”

Oh my god.

I want to climb over the counter and kiss him. But I hold myself back, because I know I can’t do that. I can’t stop grinning though. “Then it sounds like we’ve got a date Friday night.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

TRAVIS

After leaving Benji in charge of the diner Friday evening, I picked up Brenden, drove us the twenty-five minutes to Stoneridge, and now here we are in the parking lot of Lozano’s Steakhouse. It’s fancier than anywhere I’d normally go. I can tell just by the building’s architecture and the looping cursive of the sign. But at least it’s steak.

From the way Brenden describes the Richardsons’ tastes, I kind of expected something like a French restaurant, where I wouldn’t even be able to read the menu and would wind up eating snails.

“I’ve heard this place is really good,” he says, turning to face me after unbuckling his seatbelt.

“For the prices I’m going to assume they charge, it’d better be,” I gripe.

He laughs. “But we’re not paying, remember?”

Yeah, I remember. The idea of Grant treating us makes me a little uncomfortable though. But I’m the one who told Brenden we should go on the date, so. “Let’s get inside. Seems like the kind of place that would cancel your reservation if you’re one minute late.”

Again, he laughs at me. But he accompanies the gentle laughter with a squeeze of my thigh and says, “Come on, Grumptopus,” in a way that makes me feel appreciated. If that even makes sense. Like he actually enjoys my company, despite the sour attitude that I’m unable to rein in sometimes.

He’s the only person I really try to rein it in around. He’s also the only person who can transform my mood just by smiling at me.

And this is a date, right? Even if we were basically coerced into it, I need to get my act together and make it a good one. Brenden deserves to be treated right.