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“Run?”
“Um, Remy, are you okay?” she asked, patting his hand on her knee.
“I’m really not sure. Wait, that’s my line. Are you all right?” He reached up to prod at her forehead with a gentle hand. “No lump. Does it hurt?”
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Just dying of embarrassment. Except not actually dying since that would be a relief.”
“Baby,” he said in a soft voice. “Sure you didn’t hurt yourself?”
“I’m sure. Is everyone looking at us?”
“Do you care if they are?”
Kind of? This was Stepford, not Wishingbone. In Wishingbone what just happened wouldn’t even register on the radar as weird or embarrassing.
When you were friends with Kiesha or Loki your radar for quirky kind of changed and expanded.
“In Wishingbone, I’m considered boring.”
“Who considers you boring?” he said.
“Sorry. I was thinking out loud.”
“I’ve noticed you do that a lot.”
“Not really. Only around you.” She sighed. “I don’t want to care, but are they staring?”
“If they are, I’ll make them stop.” He stood before she could answer him and turned to look around at everyone.
Was it just her, or did the whole restaurant go silent? Then in a move that showed the sort of man he really was, he grabbed his chair and drew it around so he sat next to her. That meant he completely blocked her from everyone else looking at her.
Instantly, she felt more at ease.
Their server arrived with their food and she started eating. Very little put Isa off her food.
“Is your steak good?” Remy asked after a moment.
She glanced down at her plate and swallowed before speaking. There was nothing worse than someone who spoke with their mouth full.
“Yeah, it’s good. Yours?” She turned bright red as she realized that she’d eaten most of her food while he’d only gotten through half of his.
“Oh my God, I’m a pig.”
“Baby, I’m keeping track of every time you say something bad about yourself. And your ass is going to be toast by the time you agree to be mine.”
Yikes.
Maybe she’d just need to rethink being his?
But she didn’t want to do that. However, she also liked being able to sit.
“Perhaps I should take the spanking now . . . I don’t like the idea of compiled spankings. It’s like you’re stockpiling them. You shouldn’t stockpile punishments.”
“Hmm, so you’re saying after dinner, you want me to take you out to my truck, and put you over my lap?”
“Um, no. I don’t believe that was what I was saying. I don’t want to do it in your truck. Sheesh, I’d rather go do it in the unisex bathroom.”
Of course that was the time that their server returned. She cleared her throat, her cheeks red.
