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even left their business cards—but she’d never given any of them a second thought. So what had changed?
    “It’s just dinner. There’s a great restaurant just a few blocks from here. They have some of the best steaks in Portland.”
    Beth forced herself to glance away before she said something stupid. She should turn him down. She was more comfortable than she’d been in a long time; things were finally starting to feel normal.
    Don’t complicate things, Beth.
    But even with all the logical reasons she could come up with to turn him down, she couldn’t force a polite refusal past her lips.
    As if sensing the opportunity, Braden plowed forward. “You wouldn’t leave me to dine alone, would you?”
    “It would probably be rather unladylike.” Oh God, she wasn’t saying no. Her life was far too complicated for this, eventually he’d have questions, want to know about her past. What then? Dammit . For the first time in a really long time she wanted to let a charming, handsome man take her out. There had been times when she wondered if she would ever feel that way again.
    Not fair.
    “Most unladylike.” Braden reached out and tucked an errant curl behind her ear.
    Beth hesitated. She could feel the heat of her skin where his fingers brushed in retreat. Say no. Her brain supplied the words, but her lips stubbornly refused to cooperate. Instead, she dragged her gaze from his hopeful brown eyes and fixed them just over his left shoulder. “It’s stopped raining, we should get going.” Before he could say anything, Beth slid out of the car, relieved to be back out in the open.
    ***
    Push or retreat? Braden wondered. Which would work best with this woman?
    He had the damnedest feeling that if she said no, he wouldn’t get a second chance. For whatever reason, she was hesitating. He could exercise a little patience, put her at ease and try again.
    “Come on, I’ll walk you back to Angie’s,” he said.
    “You don’t have to do that.”
    “I was headed there anyway. Besides, I’ve got the umbrella.” Braden reached into the backseat and pulled out the umbrella she’d tossed as they’d thrown themselves into the car. “Got the keys? We’ll lock her up and get going before the rain starts up again.”
    She fumbled, but produced the keys from her pocket. “Right here.”
    “Great.” He reached in, pressed the lock button and swung the door shut. “Got everything?”
    “Yeah.”
    Braden gently cupped her elbow and steered her toward him; it was subtle but he felt tension seize her muscles beneath his touch. “Careful, there’s a man-eating pothole just to your right.” He forced a smile for her benefit. One day soon she’d tense in anticipation and pleasure, rather than nerves. His hands itched with impatience. It would be so easy to rest his large hands on her slender hips and back her up against the nearest vertical surface. He had to forcibly tear his mind from the way her hips would feel under his palms. He wasn’t a teenager, he could wait until she was ready or at least until they weren’t in public. Until then, plan B—conversation.
    “Have you lived in Portland long?” They turned the corner out of the parking lot and headed up the street. People were beginning to emerge from shops and restaurants, hurrying up the sidewalks to get back to their cars.
    “No. I moved here just a few weeks before I started working for Angie.”
    “And before that?” They paused, waiting for the light to change.
    She paused, as though considering her answer carefully. “Traveling mostly. I was pretty burned-out when I graduated from college. I decided to take a little time to decide what I really wanted before I threw myself into the workforce.”
    Braden glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He’d bet everything he owned she knew exactly what she wanted to do. It was another question he’d find an answer to…later. “What? No ambitions toward a career in the coffee business?”
    She laughed.