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He grimaced. “What else do you think might happen?”

She shrugged. “My dress could rip. My heel could break.”

“I could get sick from the seafood.”

This time she made a face. “Maybe don’t order the surf and turf.”

They laughed together again. As awkward as this was, it was more fun than he’d had in ages. He reached for her hand again, this time making sure not to knock over anything. His thumbs trailed over the back of her hand, along her knuckles. “I’d like to kiss you tonight.”

She sucked in a quiet breath, and he looked for any sign she wasn’t ready. Perhaps it wasn’t in the norm to admit that was on his mind, but he was done keeping his feelings to himself. Lydia was the whole package. If he wanted to kiss her, he’d say so and let her make the call.

Her shy smile said it all. “I guess we’ll have to see where things end up when you drive me home.”

“I guess so.” He brought her hand to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss there.

“Awww, you two are so sweet together.” Cat arrived, placing their drinks down on the table. “What have we decided to have for dinner?” She looked between them. “Or do you need more time?”

Chet motioned for Lydia to place her order before he chose the ribeye. As soon as Cat was gone, he asked, “Is Tate still pushing you to work for him?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” She picked up her lemon and positioned it over her drink. “It’s like he thinks if he gets me to commit now, then I won’t have any other choice but to—oh my gosh!”

His knuckle rubbed into his eye, but it didn’t stop the sting of lemon juice that had found him. “It’s fine,” he muttered, squinting. “But I might need to go—” A grunt escaped him when he adjusted how he was sitting so he could rise, because the lemon slipped free of her grasp and flew toward him.

Chet blinked at Lydia who was failing to control the impending giggles. His eye still stung, but that laugh was absolutely everything. “Laugh it up, Lydia. I’ll be telling our kids about this one day.”

And once again, he’d put his foot in his mouth. He stood up fast in an attempt to get away from the table for two reasons now. One, to clean his eye, the other to avoid any looks of fear she might cast his way. But in his haste, he knocked over her water glass.

So much for a glass of water with the perfect amount of lemon.

Lydia gasped and stood up. It was quiet for a moment. He was certain there were plenty of eyes on her now that she was holding her side and laughing even harder. Not his, since it was still squinting to fight off the burn. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry, Chet.”

“Oh no! What happened? Here, let’s get you sorted at another table.” Somehow Cat had materialized out of nowhere. She gathered Chet’s drink as Lydia righted her own cup. “There’s one over this way. It’s got better lighting anyway.”

Chet pointed to his good eye. “Good, because I’m going to need it.”

Cat frowned, probably lost as to what on earth he was talking about. Lydia was still giggling, her hand covering her mouth. And Chet grinned.

This might not have been the most conventional date so far, so why expect anything less. He slipped one arm around her waist, the other around the back of her head, and then he claimed her mouth with his own.

The kiss was worth every second of waiting. Because this was who the two of them were. The best of friends finding love the only way they knew how.

When Lydia pulled back, she wasn’t laughing anymore, but she was smiling as if he’d hung the moon for her. “Wow,” she whispered.

That was all it took to convince him to steal one more kiss. So that was what he did. He kissed her as if no one was watching when in truth, half the town would have the story by sunrise.

Cheers went up all around them, forcing Chet to release Lydia when it was the last thing he wanted to do. He caressed her face with a swipe of his thumb then murmured, “I’m going to go clean up real quick. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” she whispered, sounding almost breathless. “I’ll be waiting.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Lydia asked, her mouth pulled to the side in a mock pout as she stared up at Tate’s home. “We don’t have to do family dinner.”

Chet slipped his hand into hers and brought it to his lips. Gah! She loved when he did that. He had to have caught on, which was why he kept doing it. “I’ve been to several family dinners. What makes this any different?”

She turned to face him, her face serious. “This is the first family dinner since we’ve become a couple. I’ve held them off this long. I bet I can get them to hold off just a little bit longer.”

He laughed. “Lydia, it’ll be fine. Your family loves me.”