Temptation Trails (The Haven Brothers #3)

“All right. Are you ready, then?”

I nodded, grabbed my purse, and put on a jacket since it was raining. He led me to his car—not his patrol car, of course, it was a dark SUV—with a light touch on the small of my back, making the butterflies in my stomach take flight.

We got in and I let out a small breath. Feeling this jittery, I was bound to be the cause of my own bad luck. Self-fulfilling prophecies and all. I didn’t want to trip over my feet or blurt out something embarrassing, not because of the mirror curse, but because I let myself get too flustered.

I glanced at Garrett as he drove. At his strong stubbly jaw and broad shoulders.

Flustered it was. I couldn’t help it. He was such a heady combination of handsome, intimidating, and drop dead sexy. The kind of man who made you contemplate breaking the law just so he could arrest you.

Excuse me, deputy? I think you need to handcuff me…

“How was your day?”

I startled at his voice and blinked away the fantasy. “My day? It was… fine. Busy, but that’s just my life. How about yours?”

“It was all right. Long.”

“I hope you didn’t have to let any bad guys get away to pick me up on time.”

He cracked a smile. “Not this time.”

We made a little more small talk on the way to the restaurant. It wasn’t far, on a side street downtown near the bakery. I glanced at the parking lot up ahead. It looked packed. There wasn’t any parking on the street, either. I wondered how long we’d have to circle before we found a spot, or how far we’d have to walk.

And how wet we were going to get. Bad luck about to strike?

As if the rain knew we were about to get stuck in it, it came down harder. Garrett turned up the windshield wipers and slowed as we approached the restaurant.

“I might have to circle—” He stopped as reverse lights lit up in front of us. “Never mind. They’re leaving.”

The spot was right in front of the restaurant. That was… I wasn’t going to say lucky. Convenient. It was convenient, especially with the rain.

Garrett parked, then told me to wait and ran around to my side to open my door. He used his jacket to shield me from the rain as we ran to the entrance.

We went inside and he draped his coat over his arm. The restaurant was cozy, with a low hum of conversation filling the air.

I smoothed down my hair, although it hadn’t gotten wet. “Thank you.”

He smiled.

So many butterflies.

Although the restaurant looked full, there was a table available and we were seated right away. The ambiance was charming and romantic, with white tablecloths and flickering candles. We perused our menus for a few minutes and I waited for the jittery feeling to let up.

It didn’t.

Was I nervous because this was a first date? Or because I was convinced something was going to go wrong?

Maybe a bit of both.

The server came to our table and we ordered wine and dinner. I almost knocked over my water glass handing the server my menu, but Garrett grabbed it before it could splash all over me. I thanked him with a laugh.

When it happened again—that time just trying to pick up my wine glass after the server had poured—I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

“Sorry. I don’t know why I’m so clumsy all of a sudden.”

His smile was soft and so genuine. “It’s fine. No harm done. So how did you become a baker? Did you go to culinary school?”

“I did, but I mostly learned from my aunt Doris. When I was a kid, my sister and I used to come stay with her sometimes. Aunt Doris and I would spend most of our time baking.”