Selling Grace: A Light Romance Novel (Art of Grace Book 1) by Samantha Westlake Page A

maybe he'd take me somewhere dark, and no one would notice.
    "This will have to do," I told Salem as I scratched him under the chin. He purred up at me, blinking his eyes in approval. At least my cat thought that I looked okay.
    A minute later, he stood up and rubbed against me as I knelt over him on the bed, covering me in a fine layer of his hairs. "Jerk," I told him as I headed into the kitchen area to snag the lint roller that I kept on hand for situations like these.
    As I rolled the sticky surface over my dress, trying to pull off those stubborn cat hairs, my phone buzzed on the counter. "Hello?" I said, answering it.
    "It's Carter - I'm outside. Come on down."
    "Should I bring anything?" I asked. "Do I need a jacket, or running shoes, or a mask, or anything like that? I don't know what you have planned for tonight."
    He chuckled. "Just bring yourself. Nothing too fancy is on the agenda - nothing requiring special equipment."
    Just to be safe, I snagged a light jacket as I headed for the front door. The spring evenings were usually pretty mild, but a chill still occasionally developed.
    "Be good and guard the house," I ordered Salem, who had wandered out of the bedroom to watch me leave. I pointed a finger at him, as if he understood my words. "Stay out of trouble."
    I locked my apartment door behind me and headed downstairs, keeping my hands pressed down against my sides so that the dress didn't rise up. Already, I kind of wished that I'd worn pants.
    Right outside my apartment building, I spotted a black car, looking elegant and expensive, although I couldn't make out the make or model in the dim light. The car flashed its lights, and I guessed that this was either Carter, or a guy hoping to pick up a prostitute. I headed over, trying the passenger door and finding it unlocked.
    "Wow," Carter commented as I slid into the passenger seat. His eyes ran over me, lingering on my chest for a moment before he dragged them up to my face. "You look great."
    "Thanks, but I don't feel like it," I replied automatically. "I've put on a little weight since I got this dress."
    "Still looks amazing," he insisted, as the car pulled away from the curb with a rumble of its engine. "Good thing you brought a jacket. You're going to distract me and make us crash if you're not careful!"
    I glanced down at my cleavage on display, feeling a little better at his words. "So where are we headed? Fancy restaurant?"
    "Is that where you think I'd take you?" he asked.
    I tried to imagine what I'd pictured for this date. "Yeah, I was thinking somewhere with exposed wood, brass railings, brandy that costs forty dollars per glass, waiters in tuxedos, the whole nine yards."
    Carter just snorted. "Well, you'll see in a few minutes."
    When we pulled into a restaurant's parking lot, I discovered that I'd be eating my words. Carter had picked out a comfortable looking restaurant, the kind of place I'd consider perfect for lazing about with a pint of beer on a Sunday afternoon. Just to emphasize my outfit error, the host who greeted us at the door was wearing blue jeans.
    "I feel a little overdressed," I admitted as we slid into the booth that was provided for us.
    Carter smiled at me. "Trust me, you look great. A bit distracting from the meal, in fact."
    "Yeah? What am I making you think about?"
    His smile widened. "I'm thinking about how long it would take for me to drive to my apartment from here."
    "Why- ohh." I felt heat creep up into my cheeks as I caught onto his suggestion, and I hoped that the fairly dim lighting in the place would hide my growing blush.
    We ordered food, but I honestly forgot what I requested as soon as I passed the menu over to the waiter. For the night, I spent most of my time just listening to Carter. I'd hoped to be distracted from my current money concerns, and it was as if he knew what I wanted - and he did an amazing job.
    "Really? You grew up poor?" I exclaimed, smiling as I took a sip of my margarita. "I don't believe it -