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“You don’t have to say that.”
“Do I look like a man who says things he doesn’t mean?” he asks.
“I don’t know you.”
He nods. “But you will.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just what I said.”
“Welcome to Momma Joe’s. I’m Becky. Can I start you off with some drinks?”
Deacon nods toward me. “Sweet tea, please.”
“I’ll have the same,” Deacon tells her.
I’m way out of my comfort zone. His intense gaze is causing all kinds of weird things to happen. My palms are sweating, my heart is racing, and there’s this flutter in my belly I’ve only ever felt while reading one of my favorite romance authors. It’s not lost on me that there is no fear or dread in sitting here with him. “What’s good here?” I ask, picking up my menu.
“Everything,” he says, grabbing his own menu.
Finally, I feel as though I can take a deep, even breath. “Want to just split a pizza?” I ask him.
“Yes.”
“What do you like on yours?”
“I’ll eat anything.”
“Yeah, but you have to have a favorite?” I pull my gaze from the menu and place it on him. He is so gorgeous. The pictures I’ve seen of him don’t do him justice. It’s the eyes. They’re mesmerizing.
“I usually get supreme and add mushrooms.”
“That works for me.”
“Are you always this agreeable?” he asks.
“What’s wrong with being agreeable?”
“Tell me what you want, Ramsey. What is your favorite?”
“I’m good with supreme and mushrooms.”
“That’s not what I asked you.”
I have to look down at the table. I can’t take the intensity of his eyes as they bore into mine. I know what he’s asking, and sure, I have a favorite, but years of being trained to go with the flow with others is hard to break. The only people that I don’t do that with are my aunt and uncle, my cousins, and Palmer.
“Move over.” His deep voice sends chills down my spine, as he stands next to me. I was so lost in thought I didn’t notice him stand up.
Doing as he asks, I move over in the booth, and he takes the seat next to me. I feel my anxiety start to peak. I’ve pissed him off, and I don’t know Deacon well enough to know how he’s going to react. My gut tells me I can trust him, but it’s my head that is in control right now. I move as close to the other side of the booth as I can, putting distance between us. Distance that Deacon closes, and he presses his body next to mine.
He then turns to face me. “I’m going to touch you.” His warning comes only seconds before both of his hands land on my cheeks. “Never with me, Ramsey. When you’re with me, you tell me what you want. I don’t care if I hate it. If you love it, that’s what matters to me. I never want you to hide who you are.” His thumb traces my bottom lip. “I never want you to hide your needs, wants, or desires from me. Never.”
I nod because I’ve once again lost my ability to speak when Deacon is in my presence.
“This is one of those times I’m going to need your words, darlin’,” he says softly.
“I understand. I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Ramsey. I don’t want to know the woman who you think I want you to be. I want to know you. The real you. That includes what you like and don’t like on your pizza.” He smiles, and I swear it feels as though my heart has tripped over in my chest.
“Ham and pineapple.”
His smile widens. “Then we can do half and half.” He nods as if it was the easiest decision ever made.
“No, we don’t have to do that. I was just telling you because you wanted to know.”
“Thank you, but we are doing that. There are no rules, Ramsey.”
“Are you ready to order?” Becky asks, appearing with our drinks. She doesn’t seem to be phased that Deacon is now sitting next to me.
“We’ll take a large, one side ham and pineapple, the other supreme with mushrooms, and a large order of breadsticks.”
“Pizza sauce okay for dipping?” Becky asks.
Deacon turns to look at me, and I nod my agreement.
“Yes, that’s fine. Thank you.” He hands her our menus, and she’s gone to put in our order.
Deacon rises and moves back to his side of the booth, giving me some breathing room. It’s not until I can no longer feel the warmth of his body pressed to mine that I realize I wanted him to stay where he was.
I watch him as he opens his straw before placing it in his glass and taking a deep pull of sweet tea. He winks when he catches me watching him. His eyes are smiling, if that’s even a thing, and the soft curve tugging up his lips makes me feel at ease.
