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“There are no prices. Why are there no prices?”
How did I know she was going to notice that? “Because you don’t need to worry about it. Just order whatever you want.”
She gives me a knowing look and puts the menu down. “This is one of those super expensive places where the entrées are like $100 a plate, isn’t it?”
“McKenna, you’re sweet for caring, but seriously – stop thinking about it. I chose this place because it has all of your favorites, and the food is supposed to be delicious. Just focus on having a good time tonight, okay?”
Her hand slides across the table and her fingers interlace with my own. The way my body tingles at her touch should make me feel like less of a man, but it doesn’t. There’s always been something different about McKenna Taylor. She has the ability to make me feel like I’m flying just with a brush of her hand.
The waiter comes to take our orders and I can’t help but notice how his eyes linger on Mac a little too long for my liking. Can’t he see that she’s on a date? Or does he just not care if she’s taken? Shit, listen to me. Talk about being the pot calling the kettle black.
McKenna orders the Chicken Marsala while I go with the Filet Mignon. I also order a bottle of wine for the table, one that came highly recommended throughout almost every review they have. It might be the most expensive wine I’ve ever bought, but like I said, she’s worth it.
“Okay, we’re going to play a game.” She announces with a glimmer of something in her eyes that I don’t recognize. “It’s called ‘Marry, Fuck, Kill’. I name three people and you say which one you would marry, which you would fuck once, and which you would kill.”
“Oh god, alright.”
She leans back against the seat and crosses her arms over her chest. “Me, Ivy, Tatum.”
“That’s easy. Marry you. Fuck you. Kill Tatum. Done.”
The way she laughs is something I want burned into my memory for the rest of my life. “That’s not how it works!”
I rest my elbows on the table. “Sure it is. I picked which one out of the three for each category.”
“No. Only one category per person.”
My nose scrunches up in disgust. “You mean I have to pick if I’d rather fuck Ivy or Tatum?”
“Well, it seems like you’ve already offed Tatum without a second thought, so it looks like you’re stuck with Ivy.”
“Yeah, okay.” I chuckle. “Like you’d ever let that one happen. And besides, Rome would probably bury me, even if it is only a game.”
The second her eyes widen, I realize what I let slip. Sure enough, she caught it. “Roman likes Ivy?!”
“What? I didn’t say that.” I try to play it off but judging by the way she looks at me, I know there is no point.
“You didn’t have to. You said enough.” She takes her phone from her clutch but I instantly reach across to pull it from her hand. “Hey, give me that.”
“Nope.” I pop the p as I slip it into my pocket. “Tonight is about us, and if you start texting Ivy about something she was never supposed to find out, you’ll be distracted all night.”
McKenna rolls her eyes but then smiles. “I wonder if she likes him, too. We should totally set them up!”
“Like oh my god, and then we could go on double dates and paint each other’s nails!” I tease.
She goes to kick me under the table but I react quickly, wrapping my legs around her ankle and trapping her foot into place. She attempts to pull it away, but I won’t let her. Instead, I rub my calf against hers. Her whole body settles and her hand tightens around mine. I’m so turned on that if this place wasn’t so classy, I’d probably find a way to finger her under the table.
AFTER WE’RE FINISHED EATING, we walk back out to my car hand in hand – gushing about how incredible the food was. Not only do I plan on coming back again, but I’ll be sending a thank you gift to the woman who recommended this place. The food, the atmosphere, the mood – it all went better than I could have imagined.
“Thank you for tonight. It was perfect.” McKenna tells me as I pull out of the parking lot.
I smile and glance over at her. “We’re not finished yet, Princess.”
“We’re not?”
I shake my head but don’t say anything else on the matter as I drive to our next destination. It’s not far, but on our way there, she sings along with the radio. Her voice has always been music to my ears, even though she won’t let many people hear her. I remember when we were younger, I used to hear her singing in her room. I’d stop by the door and listen without her knowing. Maverick thought I was doing it because it was funny, but he couldn’t have been more wrong.
Over the years, I’ve learned that the way McKenna acts when there is music playing, can tell you a lot about the mood she’s in. If she isn’t at least mouthing the lyrics or letting her body move to the beat, something is wrong. She sings along when she’s happy, and sways to the song when she’s simply content. The times when she looks like she’s not even listening to it, are when there’s a lot plaguing her mind.
