Sheswallowed, and moved her hands away, stepping back to stare for a moment. “Doyou only have these?”
Awaresuddenly of Scott’s boisterous singing from behind us, I glanced over myshoulder to see him with his back turned, buffing away at the espresso machine.I pulled the collar of my t-shirt down just a bit, revealing a little peek ofthe stone lion’s head that encompassed the right side of my chest, and thenturned around and lifted the hem, exposing half of the piece that blanketed myentire back. I had to remind myself to breathe as her eyes stared at the skullthat covered most of my lower back; the lower jaw disappearing under thewaistband of my jeans. My heart jumped and my flesh goose-pimpled, startled bythe touch of her hands against the sensitive skin, and dammit, my pantsstrangled my groin as she pulled my shirt up further, giving her a full view ofthe raven carrying a crown in its talons, spanning the width of my upper backand shoulders.
Itwas the closest I had gotten to a woman disrobing me in over five years, and mycheeks flamed with the reminder of how exhilarating it could feel to betouched.
“Jesus,”she said quietly with awe. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but um, you look …”She cleared her throat and swallowed. “You look really good.”
Oh,but I wanted to take that the “wrong way,” if there was such a thing, and afterhearing the compliment countless times before, it had never sounded sweeter.
“Thanks,”I said with haste, covering myself before Bill or Scott could ask why I wasundressing in their store. I turned back to her to find her face flushed,knowing mine was as well. “You like tattoos?”
Shenodded, wrapping her arms tightly over her chest. “I’ve always wanted them, but…” She shrugged, her eyes wandering toward something off to the side. “Stephendidn’t really like them, so …”
“Hedidn’t let you?” My mouth twisted into a frown.
Lookingback to me, she shook her head. “Oh, no, I just never got them, because I, uh,thought he wouldn’t want me anymore if I did.” She snorted a sorrowful laugh,dropping her gaze to the floor. “Oh, the irony, right?”
“Well,hey, if you wanted to go get matching butterflies or something, I’m game.” Shesilently rolled her eyes up at me, and I took that as my cue to change thesubject. “So, um, do I really want to ask what happened tonight?”
Shebit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering as her watery eyes lookedeverywhere but at me. I felt guilty, as though I had jinxed her with my jokesabout him being a psychopath. I hadn’t meant anything by it, of course, eventhough it would have thrilled me to find that he had snagged a picture off ofthe internet to call his own. I had secretly hoped that he was really a basement-dwellinggoblin of a man without a penny to his name. Maybe he would have even left herwith the tab—shame on me.
Thetruth was, I selfishly didn’t want her to have any other man to turn to, to sitwith and read during Story Time, to receive cups of tea from. I didn’t wantanother man to be lucky enough to hear her laugh and see her smile; to be thereasonfor that smile. It was wrong of me to assume I could hold her from a romanticlife, especially after I had vowed to never make another move, but having herso close to me almost felt like enough. Almost.
Butwhen she told me that he had implied that she wasn’t the most beautiful womanhe had ever laid his snobby eyes on, I instantly regretted ever hoping foranything but wedding bells as I clenched my fists on my lap, out of her view.
“So,wait, you haven’t even eaten dinner yet?” I asked. My heart pumped hot bloodthrough my veins, each one of them threatening to burst under the pressure. Sheshook her head, and without a moment of hesitation, I stood up from the table,grabbing the closed laptop and taking her hand in mine.
“Whereare we going?” she asked with surprise, wobbling on her stiletto heels as shestood.
Iled her to the door with anger fueled determination. “You put in all of thiseffort to go out to dinner, and dammit, you deserve that.”
***
Turningthe black Mercedes into the parking lot of the Golden Carousel diner, I feltthe shame of taking her somewhere so lack luster when she had dressed for aplace of class and wealth. But despite the casual destination, like agentleman, I rounded the car and opened the door for her, enveloping her handin mine to help her out. She curtsied as best as she could in the dress withsarcastic pleasantry.
“Why,thank you, kind sir,” she said, followed by a giggle that awakened every nervein my body.
Playingalong, I bowed with more grace than even I expected, holding my opposite armbehind my back and I brought her delicate hand to my lips.
“Itis my most honorable pleasure, milady,” I said with sincerity, looking at herthrough my lashes before lightly kissing her knuckles.
“Wow.”Her giggle was nervous, and a light flush rose from her chest to her cheeks. Icaught her bite against her lower lip, and I tried with great difficulty not tolet my ego inflate. “You’re smooth,” she said with a blushing grin.
“It’show I woo all the ladies,” I said, unable to fight my own laugh, andstraightened my back to offer her my arm. “Shall we?”
Sheaccepted graciously, and we walked along the sidewalk and up the steps to thealuminum adorned doors as the late October wind whipped cruelly against thethin material of my shirt, but with her close at my side, I couldn’t find it atall possible to feel cold.
“HeyB.!” A raspy voice called from inside the diner, and my favorite grey-rootedwaitress Birdy bounded her way over to us. “I can’t wait for you to try thisnew pie I’ve been working on. It’s peach with—” Her eyes opened in shock at thesight of Holly on my arm, and she gave me a suspicious look. “Well, well—who’sthis?”
“Birdy,this is myfriendHolly,” I said, giving her a stern look and hoped shegot the message, and as I should have predicted after thirty years of knowingthe woman, she didn’t.
Birdydramatically clapped her hands over her buxom chest and grinned fromear-to-ear. “Oh,Brandon, your mother is going to bethrilled.Absolutelythrilled! Honestly, she never thought you would ever meetanybody, especially after …” She grimaced before shooting a look in Holly’sdirection. “Well, anyway, she’s always so worried about you, hon. Every time Italk to her, she says, ‘Brandon needs to meet someone soon or I’m never goingto meet my grandchildren.’ Can you believe that? I always tell her, ‘Carole,you raised a good, successful,handsomeman and sooner or later, theright girl is going to come along and sweep him off his feet. You’ll see.’”
“Momneeds to relax,” I grumbled at the plump woman.
“Oh,honey, she’s yourmother. She can’t relax. She knows you need someone totake care of you.” Her bauble-adorned hand patted my arm gently as she turnedto Holly. “You know he doesn’t cook for himself? If this diner didn’t stand,I’m convinced he’d starve.”
Hollylooked up at me through her smudge-ringed eyes. They twinkled with amusement,and that instantly made the teasing worth it.
