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I stare through the glass wall that separates the restaurant from the sidewalk. As if she feels my gaze on her, Kayla glances over at me. She waves and raises her glass of red wine in salute. Then she points to the appetizer, a plate of sliced meats, cheeses, and olives. Then she places her hand over her heart and tips her head back. Her eyelids fall shut. She looks as if she’s fallen head over heels for her first coarse.
The thought of losing her …
I turn away from the window and look out at the busy street behind me. The idea that I could wake up one day without her because of something so far beyond my control … Fuck.
I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. I’m close to shaking. I know what fear tastes like, how it smells, and how it wraps itself around me until I can’t escape.
But this is different. I’m not afraid for myself. I’m terrified of the ways Kayla could get hurt. She was shot in her own back yard.
“Gavin?”
A hand touches my shoulder, and I turn to find Kayla standing behind me. Her long mane flows over her shoulders. She looks smaller, more delicate than she did this morning. The over-sized, long sleeve gray shirt might have something to do with that. Add the jeans and cowboy boots and she looks about as out of place in Brooklyn as a country music concert in New York City.
“Oh, God,” she murmurs. Her eyes widen as she studies me. “What happened? Did Alexandra—”
“No.” I reach out and pull her close. “My crazy ex stayed quiet today. Maybe our plan worked and she gave up.”
“I doubt that.” Kayla loops her arms around my waist. “But if it wasn’t Alexandra, what happened? You looked so lost for a second.”
“They found the man who shot at you. I was on the phone with Lucie, the police deputy in your crazy town.”
“Hey, that’s your town too.” She steps back, breaking my hold on her. “Come inside. You can tell me what Lucie said over pasta.”
“Kayla.” I take her hand, needing to touch her. I want to cling to her. But I allow her to lead me into the restaurant.
“I ordered for us.” She stops beside her table and reclaims her seat. “I’m sure there will be something you’ll like.”
I shake my head and let out a brief laugh. I can’t imagine another woman—hell another person—with such an appetite for life. She’s beautiful, even in her oversized shirt that reads I Love Cowboys in big block letters. And to think an old man with a gun came close to stealing her away from me forever.
Screw the rest of the world. I want this night with her. Fake or real, I don’t give a damn.
“Tell
me what you ordered.” I claim the chair opposite hers and reach for her red wine glass, hoping to steal a sip. “And what you’re willing to share.”
“Everything. I’ll let you try all of the dishes as long as I get half.”
An hour and a half later, we’ve made it through security, ridden the escalator to the suite level, and found our box. Music booms through the stadium, filling every inch with the strum of guitars and a deep, gritty baritone. I glance at the television monitor in the corner of the box. The camera offers a close up of the stage below our private viewing area.
Yeah, I can see why women wear their I Love Cowboy shirts to Adam McStudMuffin’s shows. He looks every inch the buff country boy in his fitted jeans and boots.
I glance at the bar setup and search for the whiskey. Irish or Tennessee—I don’t care. I just know I’m going to require a glass if Kayla plans to spend the concert drooling over the lead singer. The platter of mini-cheesecakes won’t help one damn bit.
“Is everything good, Mr. Black?” The server assigned to our suite for the evening hovers in the doorway. “Can I bring you anything else?”
“Do you have sodas?” Kayla asks as she approaches the dessert spread. She has a plate in her hands before the server responds.
“The fridge is fully stocked, ma’am.” The waiter opens the full-sized refrigerator with a flourish. The interior shelves are lined with different sodas, microbrew beers, and bottles of water.
“We’re all set, thank you.” I head for the fridge abandoning my plan for whiskey in favor of beer. Also, Kayla hasn’t glanced at the music star since we walked into the suite.
“Thank you, Mr. Black. I will check in with you later. If you need anything, I will be in the hall.” The server disappears, pulling the door closed behind him.
I open my beer and head for the counter-height seating area behind the rows of chairs. My company’s box holds sixteen easily, but tonight we have the space to ourselves.
Kayla sets her plate down beside me. I steal a glance at her selections.
“That’s it? You’re only having a sliver of each cake?”
