AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He gently brushes a stray strand from across my cheek to behind my ear. “Beautiful,” he tells me and I smile bashfully at his compliment.
I will accept his compliment even if I know it’s not one hundred percent true. I’m all redheaded and freckled, with extremely large eyes. I will have to admit my lips are the most attractive part of me.
“Let's get you fed,” he says as he grabs my hand and is one slight step in front of me as he leads me inside.
He holds up two fingers to the woman at the front. She grabs two menus, and we are led to a booth in the middle of the restaurant.
The room is dim with the lighting coming from candles that sit in wagon wheel chandeliers above each table. The booths and round tables have long, white tablecloths with a runner down the middle and small lamps at each one, giving off a completely romantic vibe.
This is much nicer than I expected, and I am way underdressed in my jeans and T-shirt.
I avoid the eyes of people watching us walk in, and with him leading the way, the stares of everyone don’t feel so heavy on me.
The server slides the menus onto the table in front of us and I slide into the booth with him in front of me. “Do you prefer Terror or Randall?” I ask.
“Terror, darlin.” He gives me a wicked grin reminding me again exactly how he got his name Terror. I must admit, Terror does fit him so much better.
He sets his huge hands on the table scooting the menu closer to him and lifts it to read.
I duck my head behind my menu trying not to get caught staring at him. I can see the quick looks everyone is giving him from the corner of their eyes.
When I found out Marie was attached to the MC, I looked them up and saw they’ve done a lot of good in the community, especially with kids.
“My mom has been talking about you since the second she hired you. I should have busted my ass to get over here the second she mentioned you.” He winks and sets the menu down when the waitress comes to get our drink order.
“Your mom is too kind,” I tell him, and he smiles softly. “She is everyone’s mother at the club. I’m the only one of my brothers who really have a mother involved.”
My heart warms at the thought of her mothering everyone. ‘She is the best; you’ve been blessed with her.”
He smiles and it reaches his eyes. It’s then that I notice he has a small cut on his cheekbone. Did someone hit him? I bite my tongue, fighting the urge to ask him.
I resist the urge to lift my hand and touch my cheek where one of my foster dads hit me because I spilled milk on the carpet.
I want to reach out and touch the cut; someone as pretty as him shouldn’t have any marks on his face. I can see that his knuckles have a lot of crisscross marks on them. I know right off the bat that he has been in a ton of fights.
Should I be attracted by the looks of his hands? They’re just rugged, and very manly.
Again, I ask myself, is he serious about this being a date? It didn’t slip past me the looks from almost every woman in here.
But he is here with me, and I have to give myself a little credit.
But I also can’t stop myself from asking, “Did your mom force you to take me out on a date?”
After so many years of being beaten down, told you were worthless, it’s hard to rewire the way you think about yourself.
Life has not been kind to me.
I’ve had guys ask me out and when I tell them no, they’ve all said they feel sorry for me and wanted to take me out as a pity date.
My eyes burn at the hurt those words have caused me throughout the years. No one wanted me to be their kid. I watched as everyone around me was adopted, and I was just left. No one wanted to date me, for me.
My warped way of seeing myself is beyond fucked up.
His eyes widen in disbelief that I even asked that. I’m mentally kicking myself for doing that.
“Fucking hell. Do you not see yourself?” His voice is rough. I can see his jaw is clenched like he is angry that I think of myself that way.
I twist the bottom of my shirt, my nerves getting the best of me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
