It was completely ridiculous that Rafe had agreed to this idea in the first place. He felt like a fool, sitting there in the restaurant, waiting for someone he didn’t even know. A blind date. Sarah’s so-called brilliant idea. He couldn’t help but feel like a desperate teenager, as if he couldn’t find a girlfriend on his own.

But all his doubts vanished the moment you stepped through the restaurant door.

His eyes were drawn to you immediately, and he had to adjust the collar of his shirt as you walked toward him. He caught himself shamelessly checking you out and shook his head slightly, a self-deprecating grin tugging at his lips. Rising from his chair, he quickly brushed off the frustration he’d felt earlier. You were late, but somehow, he didn’t care anymore.

And he definitely wasn’t mad at Sarah anymore.

You reached the table, your nervous smile only adding to the charm that had already disarmed him. Sliding into the seat across from him, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at him with an expression that was both hesitant and hopeful.

Rafe extended his hand, his smile soft and inviting. “Rafe. Pleasure to meet you,” he said, his voice steady as he gently took your hand in his.