Romancing the Runway. Linda Hudson-Smith

how hard I cheer for the hottest team on the West Coast.”

      Xavier raised an eyebrow. “How bad would it be?”

      She shielded her eyes with her hands. “Let’s just say I’d probably be disowned.”

      “I doubt that.” Xavier couldn’t imagine anyone disowning Kennedy.

      Kennedy looked up at the waiter when he reappeared at the table to set down their food orders. Before taking off, he made sure the couple had everything they needed.

      Kennedy eyed Xavier’s meal with keen interest. “Nice portions. You certainly won’t have to go home hungry.”

      Xavier laughed. “They definitely aren’t skimpy with the food, but Mr. Blue may’ve requested a little something extra special for us. He’s a great guy.”

      Kennedy cleared her throat. “Well, it looks like you can tell him that in person. He’s on his way over here,” she said, half covering her mouth, speaking lowly.

      Before Xavier could even react to her remarks, Reynard had arrived. “Is everything to your liking?” His dark amber gaze encompassed both parties.

      “The meals just arrived,” Xavier responded, “but I know how you pride yourself on putting it out right. Never been disappointed in anything I’ve eaten here. Kennedy just mentioned the large portions.”

      Reynard winked. “We aim to please. You two beautiful young people enjoy your meal. Tell my old bud hello for me whenever you speak with him again.”

      “I’ll do that. Thanks for everything, Mr. Blue.”

      After Kennedy cut up her salad greens into smaller pieces, she took her first bite. As she savored the tangy taste of the dressing, her eyes closed involuntarily. “Mmm, good.”

      The dab of dressing left on her lower lip had Xavier desiring to lick it away. Her mouth was full, ripe and juicy, and he couldn’t help thinking of what it might be like to kiss her, imagining the tingling sensations he’d probably feel. The image of their lips locked together in a passionate coupling was vivid. Tearing his eyes away from her delectable mouth wasn’t easy.

      Tinkling music, soft and melodic, suddenly drifted slowly about the room, causing Kennedy to look over to the elevated dais where the shiny black baby grand piano was stationed. The gentleman seated on the stool appeared fairly young, possibly in his early twenties, and was wearing a traditional black tuxedo.

      While Kennedy and Xavier continued eating their meals, the soft music played on. She’d been able to recognize a few of the songs even though no lyrics were sung. “Play Misty for Me” had been easy for her to identify. “A House Is Not a Home,” a Dionne Warwick song her parents loved. For someone so young, Kennedy thought the pianist sure knew how to play the back-in-the-day classics.

      As Kennedy’s eyes followed several couples walking to the rear of the piano area, she was surprised yet again. She hadn’t noticed the dance floor until now. It looked as if the owner had thought of everything. He had successfully pulled together both a lovely dining spot and a magnificent entertainment venue.

      “This place rocks,” she told Xavier. “I didn’t see the dance floor until now. It seems Mr. Blue is quite talented and a resourceful gentleman. I love it here.”

      “This supper club is a lifelong dream of his. My father often shares the history of how this place finally came into existence. I’d like to share it with you.”

      Xavier began to tell Kennedy that Mr. Blue was a favorite grand-nephew to his father’s beloved aunt, Lucille Carlton. Blue thought the world of his aunt and had made sure she had at least two box seats for all his home football games. When she’d call and say she had a couple more guests to bring along, he’d make it happen.

      When Ms. Lucille died a couple years before Blue’s retirement from the NFL, she had left over two million dollars to him. There had been one must-do stipulation in her will: Blue had to use a portion of the money to open the supper club he’d always talked of owning…and he’d had to do it within one year of her death or lose the inheritance.

      Kennedy was astonished. “That’s such a touching story! I bet he was thrilled no end by his aunt’s love and generosity. As a football player, I bet he made lots of money. But had he intended to open the restaurant so soon after retirement?”

      “According to my dad, Mr. Blue made excellent money, but not the kind of megamillions athletes make today. He’d planned to build a supper club, but he would’ve had to take out a small-business loan. The inheritance spared him the grief. He was excited.”

      “I’m sure. His is one great success story. This fabulous place is buzzing with patrons and excitement. What are your plans for after modeling? Or have you made any?”

      “My degree in communications will help me land a decent job. I’d actually like to work as a sports commentator or a communication specialist on a show like Entertainment Tonight. What are you thinking postmodeling?”

      “Acting, but I actually want to get seriously involved in it before my modeling career is over. I’ve already done a few guest spots on television shows. My degree is in theater arts.”

      “Looks like we both made sure to prepare for life after modeling. I’ve been doing this a long time now and I love most everything about it. The international traveling is getting a bit tedious, but I’m not tired enough yet to give it up.”

      “I know what you mean. I’ve been places some folks can only dream about. I feel blessed for all the world travel I’ve done over the years.”

      “That makes two of us.” Noticing that she had laid her fork aside, he wondered if she was through with her meal. “Ready for dessert?”

      Kennedy rubbed her stomach. “No room at the inn. What about you? Are you ordering dessert?”

      “I never leave here without my sweet potato pie. If you’re ready to go, I can order it for takeout.”

      Kennedy waved off his concern. “I’m in no hurry. If you wait to eat it at home, I won’t get a chance to steal a pinch.” She laughed at her flirty hint.

      Xavier grinned. “I hear you. I’ll get the waiter over here right away. Sure you don’t want anything else?”

      Ashamed that she’d left a fair amount of salad on her plate, she looked down at it. “If I could eat anything else, I’d finish off what I already ordered. In a lot of places salads are super-sized these days. I’m not wasteful…and I promise I’ll finish what I take out.”

      “Don’t give it another thought.” He looked down at his plate and cracked up. “Mama would be proud of me if she saw my dish. It was too good not to eat it all.”

      The waiter arrived simultaneously with the end of Xavier’s comment. He ordered two slices of sweet potato pie, one to eat now and another slice for takeout.

      Their intense gazes suddenly caught and locked for several seconds. Kennedy turned her head away. She liked his bluish-gray eyes, loved his dazzling smile and his solid packaging. She felt breathless for a moment. If looking at his tantalizing lips, full, sexy and inviting, took her breath away, what would happen if he tried to kiss her? She’d welcome it and probably grow greedy for more.

      Kennedy couldn’t get her mind to switch gears. Wondering what might occur when Xavier walked her to her door had her trembling inside.

      Xavier reached across the table and closed his hand over Kennedy’s. “Think you can find your way back to earth?”

      Feeling her color rise, Kennedy tried to laugh off her embarrassment. “Sorry about that. I don’t know where my mind skidded off to.”

      “You don’t? I know exactly where my mind was in your absence.”

      She knew he was setting her up, but she still decided to take the bait. “Where?”

      His eye color deepened. “Out there on the