Sweet Surrender (Sweet #1)(48)
Author: Maya Banks

CHAPTER 28

Faith took a shower and hurriedly dressed. Her stomach was a mess, and she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to eat a thing. She dried her long hair then brushed it and let it hang loose over her shoulders. She knew Gray liked it that way.

Mine.

His declaration still echoed in her mind and sent sparks to her girly parts every time she pictured the possessive look on his face when he’d said it.

Deciding on a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved pink top, she dressed and searched out a pair of heels. She gave herself one last once-over in the mirror, and then she walked into the living room where Gray waited.

He was standing by the French doors, thumbs hooked into his pockets. His blue eyes sparked in appreciation as he let his gaze drift over her.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

She smiled. “I’m ready if you are.”

He dug his keys out of his pocket then walked toward the door. When he got to her, he held out his hand. She slid her small hand into his much larger one, and his fingers curled tight around it.

Together, they walked out to his truck, and as he’d done the night at The House, he settled her into the passenger seat. During the drive into Galveston, they were silent, but Gray tucked her hand into his and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.

She took comfort in the intimate gesture. It made her less nervous. Like this was a date like any other. As soon as that thought crossed her mind, she nearly laughed. This was nothing like any other date. This was what she’d been looking for, waiting for, wanting. Not much pressure there.

“Seafood sound good?” he asked, breaking the silence.

She nodded.

He slowed and made a left then eased into a parking spot. Then he squeezed her hand and looked into her eyes. She smiled shyly at the approval she saw reflected in his gaze. He leaned across the seat and kissed her, warm, soft, nonaggressive. Then he drew away and stepped out of the truck.

When they walked in, Gray spoke quietly to the hostess, who gave him a quick smile and nodded. She glanced past him to Faith and smiled again. Then she collected two menus and motioned them to follow her.

“What did you tell her?” Faith whispered as they walked behind the hostess.

“Just that we wanted some privacy.”

And sure enough, the hostess sat them in a corner booth toward the back of the restaurant. The closest people were at least six tables away.

As they sat, a waiter appeared to take their drink order. A few seconds later, they were finally alone.

Gray reached across the table and twined his fingers with hers. “We’ve…well, I’ve spent too much time avoiding you. Things have been crazy between us, moved way too fast. I want to slow things down just for tonight so we can learn more about each other.”

A contented glow warmed her chest. “I’d like that,” she said softly. “I don’t know much about you. Just what Pop’s told me. You’re a cop. You live in Dallas. You lost your partner earlier this year, and you’re taking a break to sort things out. I’d like to know more.”

He looked a little chagrined, as if he’d been expecting her to volunteer information on herself first.

“When was your last relationship?” she asked.

His mouth turned down into a frown. “Relationship? I’m not sure I’d call my encounters with the opposite sex relationships.”

She arched one brow. “What would you call them then?”

“Sex,” he said bluntly.

“And is that what I am to you? Just sex?” she asked softly.

He stared at her for a long moment. “No. And that’s what scared the shit out of me. Why I put you at a distance and tried like hell to stay away from you.”

“Why do guys freak out so much over the idea of a woman being more than sex?” she asked curiously. “It’s become positively cliché. Did your mother never hug you or something?”

His eyes widened in surprise, and then he laughed. “No, I can’t blame my mother for my issues with relationships. I didn’t know her well enough for her to turn me off or on to the female populace.”

She waited for him to go on, not sure what part of that statement she wanted to tackle first.

He let go of her hands and leaned back in his chair. He lifted his glass to his lips and took a long swallow before setting it back down. “My issues with relationships stem from my frustration with not finding what I want.”

“We seem to have that in common,” she said.

He nodded. “I saw in you things that appealed to me. I saw a woman who I imagined being a perfect fit, but the old adage too good to be true kept coming to mind.”

“I hope I don’t disappoint you,” she said wryly. “I can only be myself. Just like you don’t want a script to adhere to, neither do I.”

“I wouldn’t ever want you to change, Faith. I like you just the way you are. Even if we don’t work out.”

“But you don’t know anything about me,” she pointed out.

He shook his head in disagreement. “I know that you’re beautiful. Loyal. Intelligent. Feminine. You know exactly what you want, and you won’t settle for less. You’re not afraid to surrender to a man.” He leaned forward again, pinning her with his earnest gaze. “There are two kinds of women I could never get involved with.”

She cocked her head to the side in blatant curiosity. The inner workings of a man’s mind…well that was definitely worth the price of admission.

“A woman who plays games. Mind games, sex games, whatever. I like a woman to be honest, not to hide behind a mask. The second is a woman who isn’t strong enough to surrender.”

That earned him another raised brow. She too leaned forward, her curiosity growing.

“I don’t want a woman I become involved with to become a mindless puppet any more than I want to become one. It takes a very special woman to submit to a man but still retain everything that makes her strong and unique. Her own person.”

“You’ve given this a lot of thought,” she mused.

He shrugged. “It’s what I want.”

“And what about out of the bedroom?” she asked. “Does your control extend to every aspect of the relationship? I gathered that the game players you referenced are those women who only want good, kinky sex and then want to step out of the role as soon as they get out of the bedroom.”

He looked intently at her, his expression one of absolute seriousness. “I have no desire to be a tyrant. I just know me. I’m a control freak. I’m comfortable when I’m making the decisions. When you pair that with the kind of woman I’m most attracted to—a soft, feminine woman who I can protect and take care of—then I suppose I do want an all-encompassing relationship where I call the shots in and out of bed. Does that alarm you?”