His eyes went wide, scanning her from the top of her head to the tips of her open-toed platforms. “Wow,” was all he said, but his tone spoke volumes.

“Wow, yourself.” She took a moment to appreciate the sight of Marc in a tight black T-shirt and faded jeans that cupped him in all the right places. He wore his hair in loose waves that brushed his broad shoulders. He looked relaxed and happy and criminally sexy—a lethal trifecta.

He wrapped both arms around her waist and greeted her with a kiss that said he was just as excited about their date as she was. He traced her curves, then slid his palms over her rear end and froze.

“I don’t feel any panties under here,” he whispered against her mouth.

“No,” she whispered back. “You sure don’t.”

Groaning, he lifted her into his arms and took a step toward her door. “Let’s go inside for a minute.”

“Forget it.” She squirmed out of his grasp and smacked away his hands when he tried to capture her again. “I’m not giving it up until you take me out and show me a good time.”

He winked at her. “I can show you a good time right here.” But despite his teasing words, he laced their fingers together and led her toward the stairwell. He brushed his thumb affectionately over her wrist as they descended the stairs, occasionally bringing their linked hands to his lips. Once they reached the main level, he let go of her and instructed, “You head to the bow ramp—I’ll be right behind you. If anyone asks where we’re going, I’ll say we’re picking up supplies.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan.” She’d just begun to push open the door when Marc’s pawpaw stepped into view from the stairs leading to the boiler room.

Allie’s heart lurched. How long had he been standing there?

Pawpaw narrowed his eyes at her, then at Marc. “Where you goin’, boy?”

“Into town,” Marc said without missing a beat. He patted his side pocket. “And I’ve got a long list, so I’d better get to it.” He nodded ahead in a signal for Allie to hurry up.

She obliged, stepping onto the main deck, then making a beeline for the bow ramp. The clicking of her sandals drew the attention of twins, Alex and Nicky, and their big brother Beau, who leaned against the deck rail, watching the last guests depart.

In true Nick fashion, he whistled at Allie as she passed. “You sure look nice. Got a hot date?”

“No!” she said a bit too loudly. “Just picking up some fresh fruit from the farmer’s market.”

“Hey,” Marc said from behind. “I need to go into town, too. Want to share a taxi?”

Judging by the muffled laughter coming from his brothers, their act wasn’t fooling anyone.

Beau followed them down the ramp. “I’m stopping at the farmer’s market. I’ll split a cab with you guys.” When Marc fired a glare over his shoulder, Beau returned it with twice the fury. “Is that a problem?”

Marc didn’t object, probably because his pawpaw was still watching, but the instant the three of them crowded into the backseat of a taxi, he let Beau have it. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Like hell I am.” He shot Allie a chiding glance from the opposite end of the bench seat. “You two are the worst pair of liars I’ve ever seen.”

Allie bit her lip and linked her arm through Marc’s. “Do you think your granddaddy suspects anything?”

“If he saw the way you two looked at each other,” Beau said, “then, yeah. He’s old, not blind. That goes for the rest of the staff, too. They’re gonna think the captain’s playing favorites, and that’s the last thing we—”

“Enough,” Marc ordered. “Shut up or get your own taxi.” He wrapped an arm around Allie and told the cabdriver to take them to a place called the Hill, then turned the topic to the Italian restaurant where he’d made lunch reservations. “The best in the city,” Marc claimed.

Beau frowned but let the subject drop. He asked Allie, “What’s your sister up to these days?” Though he used a casual tone, he shrank a few inches into the vinyl seat. “She ever get that education degree she talked about?”

Allie laughed at the idea of her sister leading a classroom of children. She’d forgotten that Dev had wanted to become a teacher. “No, she dropped out of college freshman year. She’s kind of a Gypsy now—just a short-term gig here and there. She gets bored easily.”

Beau didn’t seem to like that. He spent the rest of the ride in silence, staring out his window. When the taxi pulled up beside an adorable Italian bistro, Marc tossed his brother a twenty-dollar bill to cover the fare and ushered Allie onto the sidewalk. Before the cab pulled away, Beau rolled down his window and asked, “Hey, will you tell Dev I said hi?”

Allie wished she could help, but any communication from him would only make matters worse. “I’m sorry, baby. That would be a bad idea.”

Beau nodded and rolled up his window. With a wave, he was gone.

“After you.” Marc’s touch returned Allie’s attention to present company. He held open the door for her and settled his hand at her lower back while leading the way to their table. Once there, he pulled out her chair like a gentleman and ordered a bottle of chilled white wine.

“This is nice,” Allie said, taking in the cozy dining area of a dozen round white-draped tables, each anchored by a duo of candle tapers. The tangy scent of marinara and baking bread set her mouth watering. Marc had chosen well.

He opened his menu and began perusing its offerings. “Only the best for my gal.”

The offhanded statement set Allie’s heart fluttering. She raised her own menu so he couldn’t see her smiling. When the waitress returned, they both ordered the chicken parmesan, and Marc poured their wine.

Lifting his glass in a toast, he began, “To . . .” and trailed off in deliberation.

“To old friends and taking chances,” she suggested.

“Agreed.”

He clinked her glass and took a long sip, locking eyes with her from above the rim. She detected something new in his gaze, more than the wicked desire she’d seen burning there for the past week. This seemed tender, like he wanted to pause time and live in this moment for a while longer. Was it her hopeful imagination, or had Marc actually fallen as hard and as fast as she had?

“You’re the prettiest girl in here,” he said, instantly bringing a blush to her cheeks.

Allie stared into her lap. “Don’t be silly.”

She’d never felt shy around him before, but now her palms were starting to sweat. She blotted them on her linen napkin and took a few gulps of wine. The alcohol helped loosen her tongue, and by her second glass, she felt like herself again.

They talked about their hobbies, and when the topic of favorite movies came up, Marc’s response was, “Unforgiven, with Clint Eastwood. It’s about a—”

“A retired gunman who gets revenge for a mutilated prostitute,” Allie finished. “Yeah, I liked that one, but not as much as A Fistful of Dollars. That was Clint’s best work, if you ask me.”

Marc’s eyes widened. “You like Westerns?”

“No,” Allie said, leaning forward for emphasis, “I love Westerns.”

“Oh, my God.” He looked ready to marry her on the spot. “You might be the world’s most perfect woman. Do you know that?”

“Real funny.”

Allie had her flaws, and so did Marc. But as the hour passed, she couldn’t help wondering if they were perfect for each other. The longer they talked, the more they discovered how much they had in common. They both hated collard greens and the Chicago Cubs, they felt equal pressure to keep their businesses afloat, and they each pictured themselves moving back to Cedar Bayou one day.

“I like the city,” Marc said. “But sometimes the bayou’s the only place I can hear myself think.”

Allie nodded. “I miss the way the air back home smells in the summer—like lavender and honeysuckle. Outside my shop it mostly smells like car exhaust.”

They spent a few minutes gossiping about old friends, and when they’d finished lunch, Marc hailed another taxi and told the driver to take them to the Missouri Botanical Garden.

“You’re going to like this,” Marc promised during the ride. “Especially if you miss the flowers.”

And he was right. She loved it.

Marc led her on an easy stroll through the Japanese garden—fourteen acres of lush green lawns and winding paths leading to an expansive lake with four tiny islands of stone jutting proudly from its depths. Lanterns hung from the lowest branches of blossoming trees, and the air was heavy with floral warmth.

Marc held her hand the whole time, releasing her only to wrap an arm around her waist. They crossed an arched wooden bridge and paused in the middle to gaze into the water. Allie thought she spotted a turtle, but she couldn’t be sure. When she glanced up to ask Marc if he’d seen it, she found him watching her. He had that soft look in his eyes again, but before she could ask what he was thinking, he cupped the back of her neck and drew her in for a gentle kiss.

His lips moved in perfect sync with hers while his fingers traced the contours of her face. This kiss was different from the hundreds of others they’d shared, so full of tenderness that Allie’s throat grew thick with emotion.

There was love in this kiss—she felt it.

She locked both arms around his neck and melted into him without a care for the passersby on the bridge. She let herself get lost in Marc’s embrace until his cell phone vibrated against her thigh.

With a reluctant moan, Marc pulled away and reached into his pocket for his phone. His brow furrowed as he read the message on his screen. “Uh-oh.”

“What’s wrong?” Allie asked, leaning to peer at his phone.