I shut my eyes and breathed in and out. I didn’t want to pity myself, not when I had been so excited all day. So I thought about Ben and the way he looked at me. He had never given me that pitying look I was used to seeing. He just looked at … well, me.

“Maybe I am beautiful,” I whispered to myself. “Maybe if I learn to see what he does, I’ll feel okay.”

The door knocked just then, and I glanced at the time. 6pm on the dot.

I grabbed my purse and hurried to the front door.

“I’m here for Claire Landon,” said a man once I opened it.

I looked past him and at the driveway where a taxi was running beside Mom’s car.

“That’s me,” I told him uncertainly. “Who called you out here?”

“Mr Costigan did, Miss.”

“And where are you taking me?”

“Northbridge. To an Italian restaurant.”

“Okay.”

He went back to his taxi and I followed taking small steps. I wondered why on earth Ben was sending a taxi out to my place instead of just picking me up. It baffled me.

Nonetheless, I climbed into the taxi and he took me into Perth city. It was dark by the time we were on the roads of Northbridge, and the smell of rain was in the air. Large clouds blanketed the sky, hiding the moon.

He stopped the car in front of a very reputable restaurant. “This is it,” he said.

“Am I meant to pay you?” I asked him wearily.

“Already been paid,” he answered.

Oh, thank God. I didn’t bring a lot of cash on me.

I stepped out and waited in front of the restaurant. The street was backed up with traffic and the sidewalks crowded with people ready to have fun on a Friday night. Northbridge was a mixture of party goers and diners. Restaurants, bars, and clubs brought in a wide variety of people, including troublemakers. You didn’t want to be alone here at night after the rush died down. I heard too many bad stories not to watch out, even in my most rebellious days.

“You look stunning,” said a deep voice in my ear.

I whipped around and met dizzying grey eyes that could only belong to one man. And that man looked delectable in a grey, pinstriped suit.

“So do you,” I replied, smiling.

I wasn’t sure what to do. Hug him? Shake hands? Do nothing? Standing out here in front of a classy restaurant with him looking all money the way he did, I felt a little out of my depth.

Ben, on the other hand, was striking and calm. His demeanour spoke of his comfort, but his eyes gave away his thoughts. He was looking at me like there was no place he’d rather be, and fuck if that didn’t steal my breath away.

As if answering my thoughts – or perhaps he could read it all over me like I was some book he could flip the pages through – he dipped his head and kissed me softly. I melted straight into him, closing my eyes to feel the light sensation of his soft lips. His hand touched my cheek as he prolonged the kiss, moving his tongue intimately between my lips.

When he finally pulled away, I was breathing heavily. My skin was prickly all over, and my core a heated mess that wanted Ben’s hard touch more than anything.

“I like it when you’re relaxed,” he told me. “It happens when you’ve let go and stopped thinking. You ask yourself too many questions. So let’s forget all that rubbish that’s going on in there” – he pointed to my head – “and focus more on what this wants.” He rested a hand over my heart. “Sound good, beauty?”

I nodded. “Yes, it does.”

“Good.”

He took my hand into his own and steered me into the restaurant, moving to the front of the line where the hostess was. I looked back at the line-up where ten faces were fuming at us. I shrugged as a weak apology for why Ben had cut the line.

But the hostess didn’t look bothered at all. Instead, her eyes brightened and she exclaimed, “Mr Costigan! So good to have you here tonight. Let me take you to your table.”

“We can take ourselves,” Ben replied. “It’s the usual, right?”

“Yes, certainly!”

“Send someone to see us soon.”

“Absolutely. You have a good dinner, Mr Costigan.”

“Thank you, Shelley.”

I wasn’t sure if her bright hazel eyes could sparkle any more than they just did when he said her name. She blushed, eyeing him up and down like she was ready to blow her ovaries up just to have him. Not once did she acknowledge my existence, but I was sure it wasn’t intentional – she simply had eyes for Ben and no other.

Ben took us up a staircase to the second level where the noise fell away. The setting was classier than the first level. Tables were distanced from each other, giving it more of an intimate touch. We settled around a table adjacent to a large window overlooking the crowded streets below.

Like the hostess had promised, a waitress saw us not a minute later, handing us each a menu before she filled our glasses with water. She wasted no time trying to please him too.

“What’s with all this recognition?” I asked him after the dazed waitress left.

“I know the owner,” he answered with a vague shrug. “Nothing special about it, believe me.”

“If I knew being friends with owners got me into places, I’d have jumped straight on that.”

He smirked. “Not friends, Claire. I just know him.”

Righto. I looked through the menu briefly and felt a headache come on when I spotted the prices. Bloody hell, one course was equivalent to a mortgage payment.

“See anything you like?” he asked.

“The Calamari dish looks good,” I answered because it was the only damn thing I knew on here.

He waved the waitress over and we ordered our meals. “Any drinks?” asked the waitress when we had the appetisers and main courses down.

Ben looked to me. “Anything?”

“Just water,” I told the waitress.

“Same,” said Ben.

“You don’t have to avoid alcohol just because of me,” I told him when she took off again.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I drank and you didn’t?”

“The normal kind?”

He chuckled, and, god, how I loved the sound of it. “Maybe I’m not normal.”

“No, you’re definitely not. But I admit, I’m sort of curious to know what you’d be like if you were drunk.”