Page 12 of Cannon

“It’s Cannon. He’s the one, and by that, I mean, he’s the ONE. He’s my man for life’s journey, trials, and tribulations. He just doesn’t know it yet. I wanted to kill your hubby when he offered to take me home and not Cannon.”

“I knew it. I saw how you reacted, and the look on your face told the story. Okay, what can I do to help? Is he going to be one of those that needs to be rounded up and hogtied before he sees sense or what?”

“I don’t need any help right now, thank you. I have a meeting with him later, so we’ll see how that pans out and go from there. Please don’t get involved unless I ask for help. Promise me that, and also that this is our secret.” She looks a bit crestfallen as though I’ve just rained on her parade, but she nods and agrees to leave things well alone.

Seeing the time, I tell her I’ve got to run, then I head for the ladies' room to do a makeup check and general spruce-up. Once that’s done and I’m happy with myself, I head out to the pet crem and my destiny.

Arriving at the crem, I do yet another check in the rearview mirror to be sure I still look my best and then head inside. Seeing no one around, I turn to the office, where the door is open. I hear Cannon's voice and I stop for a moment. I love his deep, manly voice. As I take it in I start to eavesdrop, not intentionally just as an aside to listening to his voice.

Realizing the description is of me, I assume the person describing me is Prophet from earlier. Hearing that my eyes are my best feature I adjust my tits in my bra and wonder what’s wrong with them. Actually, I’m glad that they both think that. It’s a refreshing change. Hmm, they haven’t mentioned my ass. I like my ass.

Oh. That’s good. I like knowing that I can raise Cannon’s temperature. I should definitely do that far more now I know.

I’m just about to walk in quietly when an opening presents itself.

“I don’t have a dog. It’s my neighbor's.” Seeing them both flinch at the sound of my voice, it is Prophet who recovers fastest out of the two of them. He makes his excuse to escape, then has a dig at Cannon before deliberately leaving us alone in a closed office.

Cannon tries to get out of the hole he’s dug himself, but I’m not letting him off easily. When the opportunity presents itself, I jump in and get him to take me to lunch. Oh, yes. That was a good move on my part. I like this.

Once outside, I see he’s on his hog, as they call their bikes. I might have to ask why they named their bikes after wild pigs. That, or I’ll Google it. I don’t want to show a biker I’m ignorant of something I’m sure is common knowledge everywhere but in my head. Grabbing a helmet from the ‘hog’ next to Cannon’s, I push my hair up and it fits a bit more snugly. I can sort my hair out later. It being curly helps.

He resigns himself to the fact that we’re going on his bike and I slip on behind him. Wrapping my hands around his waist and just above his belt, I feel him stiffen. I mean his body and not what’s below the belt. As we ride along, I love the deep rumble and matching throbbing you hear and feel from the engine. Leaning my head against his back, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. This is stuff to dream about, and I love it.

Hearing him comment about being with a beautiful woman, I feel my whole body react. Thanking him, I settle into the ride again and I want to let my hands wander below that belt. This throbbing engine is having an effect I hadn’t planned for. I keep my hands firmly gripping above his waist and plaster myself to his back. I’m sure that if i let my hands do what they want to do, we could end up crashing, and that’s not how I want this ride to end.

Not having paid any attention to our destination, or anything other than the body I’m gripping onto, I’m surprised when we pull to a stop in a parking lot. I look around and see that we’re at an Italian restaurant. I slip off the bike, remove my helmet, bend over and give my hair a good shake. Standing straight again, I run my fingers through my hair.

Handing the helmet to Cannon, he is staring at me, glassy-eyed. The moment could only be more perfect if he became one of those cartoon wolves from bygone days that howled at a beautiful woman.

Snapping out of his stare, he takes the helmet and hangs it from a mirror, doing the same with his own. Without saying a word, I slip my arm through his, and we head into the restaurant. As we walk in, a server recognizes him and does a double take when she sees me on his arm. Coming over, she gives him a peck on each cheek, does the same to me, and asks if he’d like his usual table.

Once we’re seated, I take a deep breath and ask, “You must come here often to get a greeting like that. Not many servers kiss the customers as they arrive.” That did not come out as I intended.

“Not many customers served with her brother, either.” He snaps that back at me, and I deserve it. Shit. I haven’t got this off to a wonderful start.

“Bring many women here, do you?” Oh, fuck. What is wrong with me? Just shut the fuck up already.

“If this is going to be an inquisition, you can call a cab and go fetch your Toyota, and I’ll go back to work. You can discuss the dog with one of the others.” He looks completely serious, and I can’t blame him.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t leave, and let’s start this again. The ride over was amazing and I don’t want to spoil lunch by being a bitch.”

“Fine. I can live with that.” He looks over and sees the server is busy at a table. I feel another pang of jealousy and struggle to keep my emotions in check.

“You served with her brother? Should I ask where or just leave it at that. I don’t want to drag up any bad memories.” Probably asking that was enough. Hell, Barbara, get a grip.

“We went all over the world, wherever they sent us. He didn’t come back from our last mission before we were due to be discharged. I immediately re-enlisted rather than have to face Allegra. I was a coward, and I hope Romeo forgives me for it when we next meet.”

I opened an old wound there, or should I say I touched a still-open wound. I wasn’t expecting any of this for a simple lunch date. My reactions to another woman, my jealousy that he may have brought me somewhere he brings his women, his openness about his friend. Phew. This is some heavy stuff on a first date.

“You know we’re never going to have any secrets if we both keep speaking what’s supposed to stay in our heads.” Holy shit. Not again.

“Well, secrets are sometimes best shared. Was your comment on the bike supposed to stay in your head?” I hold my breath for his answer.

“It was, but I’m not sorry you heard it. I would have probably said it to you over lunch anyway.” His big hands are on the table in front of him, and I reach out and place mine over them.

“It’s the most wonderful thing anyone has ever said to me or about me. Thank you.” He pulls his hands out from under mine, and I’m just about to pull them back when he takes hold of them. They disappear inside his hands, but my heart feels like it’s about to burst.

The server comes over with the menu, giving Cannon a huge smile before turning her attention to me. In a thick Italian voice, she says, “You should go to the bathroom.” I must look startled, because she then says, “Not you, him. Cannon, my brother, you need to leave us women alone for a few minutes.”