Free What Lies Beneath by Andrea Laurence

all the basics, and gave her a good idea of what to do with them.
    It was all very exciting. She had this surge of energy she hadn’t had since the accident. It was like the world had opened up to new possibilities. Fate had closed the door on her past, but as the operator slid open the metal grate of the elevator door, it was like he was opening a window to her exhilarating new future.
    “Did you buy out the store?” Will asked, pushing open the downstairs door as she breezed past him.
    “Not today. Maybe next week.”
    “It’s good to have goals,” he said with a laugh. “Are you ready for dinner?”
    “Yes,” she said. Lunch had worn off long ago, but she’d been too wrapped up in her new sewing machine to notice.
    “There’s a steakhouse a few blocks east of here that I’ve been wanting to try. Does that sound okay?”
    “Sounds great.”
    Will took her bag and carried it for her as they made their way to the restaurant. As they stepped inside, Cynthia immediately felt underdressed and stopped dead in her tracks. The dark restaurant had paneled walls and deep burgundy tablecloths, delicately folded napkins and enough flatware to confuse an etiquette expert. Her slacks and sweater just didn’t seem up to par. Will had to nudge her forward so the door could close behind them.
    “This place is too nice,” she whispered.
    “You’re fine,” he assured, pushing her toward the maître d’s desk. “Two, please.”
    Cynthia followed the two men through the restaurant to their table. They were seated at a secluded two-top in a corner where they wouldn’t be disturbed by other diners. The waiter was obviously under the impression that they were on a date. It certainly didn’t feel like one. At least not with Will eyeballing his cell phone again instead of his menu.
    “Would you like to try one of our fine wine selections this evening?” the waiter asked when he arrived.
    Will put his phone aside and looked expectantly to her, but she didn’t know what to say. He’d mentioned before that she liked to drink wine, but she was really just craving a tall, cold glass of Diet Coke. So she said so.
    Will nodded. “A Diet Coke for the lady and a merlot for me, please.”
    Once the server was gone, Cynthia tried to focus on the menu. There were so many things she hadn’t tried yet, but there’d been almost nothing she hadn’t liked. Except brussel sprouts. She had to remember to tell Anita that before she made them again. Tonight, however, she decided on a surf and turf to sample a few new items at once.
    When the ordering was done and they were left alone with their drinks, Cynthia noticed for the first time how romantic the restaurant was, especially their quiet little alcove. A large stone hearth contained a fire that roared on one wall, the warm lighting casting everything in a golden glow. She hoped it would do wonders for her skin tone, which still wasn’t quite back to the perfect cream it once was. It certainly looked good on Will. The flickering of the fire sent shadows across the angular planes of his face and darkened his hair to a deep mahogany color. The flames reflected in his eyes as he watched her intently from across the table.
    She drew in a ragged breath, her tongue darting across her lips to moisten them. His gaze dipped down to her lips for a moment and back to her eyes with a small smile. The heat of his stare made her intensely aware of her whole body. And his. The button-down shirt he’d changed into was dark green. It strained across his chest and shoulders, the hard muscles underneath fighting to be free of the restraint. Being pressed against him earlier had set her imagination wild. She wanted to know how those bare muscles would twitch under her hands. Or how the wall of his chest would feel when her breasts flattened hard against him.
    “This place is very nice,” she said, reaching for her soda and taking a large sip to moisten her suddenly dry throat.
    “It is,” he agreed,