AFTER WE ARRIVE AT the restaurant, I help Danny out of the Rover and place my arm around her waist. She insisted on leaving her jacket behind, and I don't argue. We have about twenty feet to walk and it will be warm inside. Even so, I take my sport coat off and wrap it over her shoulders. It's not much, but I don't want her freezing before we get inside. She's a bit wobbly on the heels and this makes me smile. I like that she went out of her comfort zone tonight.

The steakhouse is warm and Danny hands the jacket back to me. The place is decorated for Christmas and I do my best to ignore it. The restaurant isn't crowded. I reserved a nice table in the corner, but we pretty much have our choice.

"Do you mind if we sit at a table by the window? I love the snow," Danny says as she gazes at the tables by the windows.

I know she loves the snow, but I'm not sure exactly why. I'm more of a spring-summer guy. My dislike for being cooped up is one of the reasons, and the holidays are the other. We sit by the window and I order a bottle of the Rubicon Rutherford 2008 from our host, who takes an extended look at Danny, which pisses me off.

"Did you order that to impress me?" she asks when he leaves. She's completely oblivious to the smoldering onceover he gave her.

I try to shake off this stupid jealousy. I hadn't really thought about the wine. Ordering a nice bottle is something I usually do when I take a woman out. "Did it impress you?"

"Not so much," she gives me one of her smart-ass smiles.

Our actual waiter delivers the wine, and I tell him to leave the bottle unopened and bring us two AleSmiths. He's good at his job, because he doesn't so much as give me a strange look, just heads off to fetch our beers. He also didn't give more than a passing glance at Danny, which means he'll get a better tip from me.

"So what are your plans for the bottle if we aren't going to drink it?" Danny asks.

I'm so stuck on absorbing Danny with makeup and loose hair that it takes me a minute to realize she asked me a question. "I'll keep it as a souvenir. Now tell me why you like the snow so much." I need her talking, so I can continue studying her and not look like a complete fool.

The look she gives me says I've asked the wrong question. "The snow reminds me of Christmas. It's my favorite holiday. I'm sorry that you don't like this time of year."

I've told her I dislike Christmas, but never went into the specifics. "It was my mom's favorite holiday, too. I miss her the most at Christmas time."

She gives me a sad smile. "I wish I'd had a chance to meet her."

I continue staring at her, and what I say next is almost the truth. "She would have liked you." My mom would have loved Danny.

Her cheeks tinge pink and I can tell she's uncomfortable. I let her off the hook. "Talk to me about college, and why you're working as a legal secretary when you have a degree in business communications."

It's obvious I've asked the wrong question again, because her cheeks go brighter and she looks away.

"Danny?"

She turns back. "I'm not ready to answer that yet. Why don't we talk about your next season?"

I'm stumped. This is not going as planned. I want to know everything about Danny, and not just her love of rugby and a few odds and ends about her work in Jeff's office. I know so little. I've always treated her as one of the guys. Men don't need to know about each other's hopes and dreams or college degrees. It's different now, and I desperately want to know what makes Danny tick. "Okay, let's try something else. This is a date. No rugby talk and no sports, just other stuff."

This gains me a slight smile from her. "Stuff," she repeats and shakes her head slightly. "Why don't you tell me what you usually talk about on your dates?"

I shrug. "I usually ask one or two questions and then my date does all the talking. Women tend to make dinner conversation easy on guys."

Her laughter is instant and I join in. "We aren't very good at this, are we?" she says when she stops laughing.

"No, we aren't. I have an idea. What's your favorite color?"

Finally, I asked a good question; I can see it in her eyes. "Red. What's yours?"

I should have known. "Red. What's your favorite food?"

"Sushi. What's yours?"

I can't keep the sour look from my face, which makes her laugh again. I hate sushi. "Steak," I say with a slight caveman grunt. "Dessert?" I fire back.

"Chocolate cake."

Our waiter arrives before Danny can return my question. He places our beers in front of us and asks if we're ready to order. I would usually try to impress my dates by ordering for them. I look at Danny, and know it would be the wrong move entirely.

"I'll have the sirloin, medium rare, with salad," she tells the waiter.

"The same," I add.

He leaves and I fire my next question, trying not to stare too long at her breasts, which look lush under the clingy material, even without cleavage showing. "What's your favorite movie?"

"Murderball." She just looks at me, without asking what my favorite movie is.

"Murderball," I say to her silent inquiry. If you love rugby, the documentary about the U.S. wheelchair rugby team and its journey to the 2004 Paralympics in Greece is on your favorites list too.

"What about Harry Potter?" she asks.

"I haven't seen it or them. I thought there were, like, fifteen movies in the series."

Her hair has fallen forward on her face and she pushes it back. I've seen the curve of her neck a million times, but now I'm fascinated with every inch of skin displayed. I want to sink my fingers into her hair and hold her still, while I run my nose across her skin.

"Van?"

She pulls me out of my Danny-induced coma and I meet her eyes. "Sorry."

I receive an intense what the hell is wrong with you look before she repeats herself. She talks slowly so I can follow, "Not quite fifteen movies, but they play Quidditch, which is actually flying rugby."

"It's going to the top of my movie list then," I tell her.

We laugh some more and continue as we talk about everything, from our favorite beer to our favorite television shows. It's time well spent until our meals arrive. We're comfortable now and it's nice. Halfway through our food, the waiter returns and asks if we're from out of town.

"They've closed the roads," he tells us.

Danny and I look outside. We haven't paid attention to the weather, and we've been sitting here for about two hours, lost in conversation. The snow is now coming down in large flakes, and the entire parking lot is covered in several inches. The area we're in is known for road closures, but I believed the weather report and thought we'd be safe.

"Thank you. We'll walk next door and stay at the lodge," I inform him. "Would you mind opening our wine? We'll take the bottle with us along with a slice of the chocolate cake for dessert."

When I look back at Danny, the easiness of a few minutes before is missing.

"Two rooms," I tell her, so she'll relax again. "We can drink some wine in my room and eat dessert, if you're okay with that."

She nods and we finish our dinner. I run out to the Rover and grab her jacket before we head across the side parking lot to the lodge. I hold the wine, and she carries the bag with our box of dessert and utensils. I wrap my arm around her waist, so she doesn't fall in her three-inch heels as we slush through the snow. My jacket isn't as protective as Danny's, but I'll survive.

It's warm when we get inside. There's only one person in the lobby and she's working the front desk. She looks Estella's age and gives us a pleasant smile. I ask for two rooms.

"Just one," Danny says before the woman begins typing into her computer.

I look at Danny's bright red face and don't argue. My heart rate jacks up. Danny's looking at the lady behind the counter and my gaze follows hers. The woman gives Danny a wink, which I ignore.

Danny and I don't speak on our way to the room. We reach the door and stop. She gives me a nervous look and I don't want her to feel uncomfortable. With the wine bottle in hand, I carefully reach around her, use my other arm to pull her close, and I lower my lips to hers. Danny's are still cold from our short walk outside. She returns my kiss, and her body turns liquid against me. I hold her tight and toy with her lips for a minute before taking it to another level. One hand travels to the top of her ass and I pull her closer into me. It's still not close enough, but the kiss turns into a make-out session in the hallway of the lodge. We're both breathing heavily, and it's nearly impossible to gain control.

"Shouldn't we go in the room?" Danny breathes against my ear.

I turn slightly so her hair is across my mouth, and I can give a small nibble to her neck. "I promised you a goodnight kiss at the door, and I didn't want to go back on my promise."

"Thank you," she says with a quick inhale as I continue nibbling.

The scent of her hair holds me in this exact spot. "You're welcome, Danny girl."