When Caitlyn found the song she had in mind, she had to hand the phone to Owen so he could enter his password and purchase it.
“Don't peek,” she said. “I want it to be a surprise.”
“I won't peek,” he said.
“Strange as it sounds, Owen loves surprises,” Kellen said.
“I do.”
“He can't keep a secret though.”
Caitlyn chuckled. “Why does that not surprise me?”
When the song began, Owen tugged Caitlyn against his chest and stole her breath by singing along in a low sultry voice. She wasn't sure how he knew “Unchained Melody,” but he sang it as if he were a long lost Righteous brother. He had a pitch-perfect tone. He should be a lead singer. She’d pay to hear him sing.
Her body was entirely in tune with his. Her skin tingled in want of his touch. Her ears strained for more of the sensual words pouring from his lips. She’d never felt a song before, but she felt every word of this one. They swayed slowly as he led her into a leisurely turn around the floor between their booth and a small table. Caitlyn clung to him and let him lead. Allowed herself to enjoy their dance and not worry about what everyone else was thinking or whispering. She didn't much care at the moment. Owen gave her an odd measure of courage. Even though he was several years younger than she was, he was teaching her something she hadn't realized she'd been missing—how to have fun and not worry about what people thought. She tugged him closer and nuzzled her face into his neck.
“Most women don't make it past The Chicken Dance,” he said as the music played without accompanying vocals.
“So you dance in diners on a regular basis, I take it,” she said. She wished she could say that she had something special with him. And not the things she'd done to him back at the sex club. She hoped he didn't hold that against her. She'd been really hating on men when he'd approached her. And she should have never taken out her frustration on his ass. Even if he had seemed to like it.
“Not regularly,” he said. “I’ve danced in a few. But it’s been years.”
Caitlyn caught sight of the waitress, standing with a large tray beside the table. She was watching them with a smile of longing on her face, waiting for their song to finish. Maybe all women wanted a man like Owen, a man who didn't care if the world thought he was a little crazy for making his own dance floor, just so long as he got to hold his woman close.
When the song came to an end, several people clapped. Owen released her. “There's only one thing I want right now more than you,” he whispered to Caitlyn.
“Pastrami on rye.”
He chuckled. “You're getting to know me already.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Of all the intimate things he’d done to her that night, that chaste gesture was the only one to make her belly quiver.
Owen helped her find her seat again. Across from them, both drunks smiled a greeting, but he ignored them, still giving Caitlyn his full attention. “You’re still planning on rewarding me for good behavior, aren’t you?” he asked. His hand found her leg beneath the table and slid from the inside of her knee to her upper thigh.
“We did agree on no public displays of affection.” She caught his hand before it found its target.
“Dancing doesn’t count.”
“What about kissing?” she challenged.
“No?” It wasn’t a statement. More a hopeful question.
As if she could tell this man no when he was looking at her like that. But she refused to let him off easily; teasing him was too much fun.
“I have to be honest: that public display felt rather affectionate.”
“Can you please go back to your own table now?” Kellen said to the pair of young women who were still harassing him about going to a bar that would close in less than an hour.
The waitress looked apologetic as she set their food before them. “Should I get the manager to remove them from the premises?” she said quietly, as if the young women wouldn’t be able to hear her.
“That won’t be necessary,” Owen said. “I’ll take care of it.”
The waitress nodded and took her leave again.
“So how are you ladies getting home tonight?” Owen asked them, selecting a potato chip from his plate and munching it.
“Lisa’s car is parked across the street.”
Owen nodded. “I see. How would you like to go for a ride in a limo?”
“What?” the one who wasn’t Lisa said.
“We have a limo parked outside. Want to go for a ride?”
Caitlyn was too busy trying to figure out what Owen was thinking to touch her cheesecake.
“Owen, I don’t think…” Kellen gave the girls pointed looks.
Owen ignored him. “You don’t believe we have a limo, do you?”
“I’d have to see it to believe it.”
“All right, I’ll show you.” Owen slid out of the booth and helped the two wobbly ladies to their feet. He leaned across the table and whispered, “I’ll be right back,” to Caitlyn.
Befuddled, she watched him escort the two women out of the diner.
She exchanged a confused look with Kellen. And then Kellen’s scowl softened. “Wish I’d have thought of that,” he said.
“Thought of what?”
“Hey, hey, hands off the merchandise,” Owen shouted just before the diner door shut behind them.
“Is he leaving with them?”
“When he has you?”
“Then what?”
Before he could answer, Owen was headed back in their direction.
“What was that all about?” Caitlyn asked.
“Neither one of them had any business driving,” Owen said, “so I had the driver take them home. They were too excited about riding in a limo to be upset that they weren’t getting into Kelly’s pants tonight.”
“And how are we supposed to get back to the hotel?” Kellen asked.
“The driver will be back before I finish my sandwich. Their place is only a couple of miles from here. They told me so when they were trying to get me to go with them.”
Caitlyn squeezed his knee under the table. “That was a really nice thing you did.”
“What? Rescuing Kellen from two drunk girls?”
“Making sure they got home safely.”
“Everyone is happy,” he said, and took a huge bite of his sandwich. “Especially me,” he added, talking with his mouth full. “Good stuff.”