Free Werewolves of New York: Nathaniel by Faleena Hopkins Page A

so despite the bright sun being out, there was a romantic atmosphere here that seemed to please him.
    He led her to the hostess who visibly did a double take at his looks.
    “Nathaniel Jacobs.”
    The girl blinked to compose herself and looked at the reservation list. “Right this way.” Choosing two menus and a wine list, she led them through the low-ceilinged, intimate dining room. Michelle glanced around thinking it was exactly the type of first-date restaurant she’d always dreamed of. Not too stuffy, but elegant enough to know that she was important to him.
    Immediately as they sat down, he ordered an expensive bottle of Syrah and a bottle of still water. “Do you like crab cakes?” he asked her, glancing up from a menu.
    “Love them,” she smiled.
    “Great.” To the hostess, he said, “Could you please tell our server to order those as well.”
    She nodded, looking as though she’d do anything he asked her, but keeping that desire as subtly hidden as her position demanded. He didn’t seem to notice, but it made Michelle all the more proud that she was the one seated at the table. The hostess exited and Nathaniel set the menu down and smiled. “I want to know everything about you.”
    She blushed. “Well, I’d like to know some things about you as well.”
    His eyebrow rose. “Oh? You say that as though you have specific things in mind. But let me start with the questions.”
    “Okay.”
    A server appeared with the wine and showed him the label. Nathaniel nodded and turned back to Michelle as it was being uncorked beside him with all the proper etiquette.
    “So, you like red wine?”
    “Love it. Bolder the better,” Michelle smiled, eyes locked on him. That cleft in his chin was so attractive that all she could think of was reaching over and tracing it with her finger.
    “Have you always loved it or did you gradually get there?” he asked, taking a taster sip poured for him. “That’s fine. Thank you,” he told the server, quickly returning focus back to her.
    Michelle answered, “Oh no. I started out with wine coolers, if you can believe it. Then White Zinfandel, then Chardonnay, then reds. I still drink Chardonnay when the mood hits. But we’re in a steak house so…” she trailed off.
    “With red meat, always red wine,” he finished with a smile that matched hers. Glancing to the male server like he wanted him to leave, he watched as her glass was gracefully filled to halfway. As soon as he completed the pour in Nathaniel’s glass, the server told them he’d give them some time with the menu, and disappeared quickly.
    “What about you?” she asked, leaning forward with her chin on her hand as she gazed at him.
    He smiled and leaned forward, answering like he was giving away a secret. “Reds all the way. Never anything else, in terms of wine. But I’m not a big drinker. It’s not my weakness.” He raised his glass to toast.
    She lifted hers up, a habitual response, but was curious about what he’d just said. “What is your weakness, Nathaniel?”
    He held her eyes for a heated moment. “Apparently I have only one.”
    She felt warmth pool out from her heart and other lower places. “Which is? Or won’t you tell me.”
    “Another time,” he said thickly. “To red wine, red meat, and red dresses.”
    A flattered laugh softly fell from her lips and she tapped her glass to his. “To cleft chins.”
    A surprised grin appeared and vanished quickly as a food runner interrupted them, carrying the most beautifully arranged plate of crab cakes laid on a bed of sautéed kale. As he set it down, the electricity calmed between them and Michelle nervously picked up her menu and asked, “What will you be having?”
    Nathaniel looked at her like he knew she was putting a wall between them with that leather bound list, but he was respectful enough not to mention it. “Let me see. I’ll probably have Filet. What about you?”
    The runner left to get their server and as soon as they were