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I smile, cutting off another piece of meat.
He holds up his hand, stopping me from continuing. “What’s covering your hair?”
I buck my eyes. Shit, I forgot to take my bonnet off. Oh, well. He’s the one who showed up here unannounced.
Pointing to my head, I tell him, “This is a bonnet. I wear it at night, so I don’t mess my hair up while I sleep.”
He eyes it before requesting, “Can you take it off? I think you have beautiful hair, and I would really love to see it.”
“For the amount of money I pay for it, it better be beautiful,” I laugh, removing the bonnet to let my twenty-four-inch weave hang.
I laugh harder from the confused look on Yiorgos’ face.
“This is not my real hair, Yiorgos. I mean, yes part of it is, but most of it is weave.”
“Can I touch it?” He cautiously asks.
“Hell, no.” I snort from laughing. “Never ask a Black woman if you can touch her hair. It’s a definite no-no and you might get cursed out.”
He nods, saying, “My apologies, I did not know that. Well, yours or not, I still think it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I return, bumping his shoulder.
Yiorgos picks up his wine glass and takes a hearty drink, “Where did you learn to fight like that? That shocked the shit out of me. I wasn’t expecting it. Were those men the reason why you sound like you sometimes have a lot on your mind lately?”
“My father sent Zoe and me to self-defense classes. I liked it so much, I moved on to boxing and MMA style fighting. I still train and it helps me stay in shape. So, most people take my quietness as a weakness. I’m a peaceful person and only wish that for others but if you push me into a corner, I’m gonna come out swinging.”
“Yes, I know,” he chuckles. “So, why did your father want you and Zoe to take lessons? Did you live in a rough part of the city?”
“Not exactly,” I reply before taking a deep breath and tell him about Tahir. I never really went into details when I talked about him before because I didn’t know how deep things between Yiorgos, and I would get.
When I finish, Yiorgos takes my hand in his.
“I’m so sorry this has happened to your family.”
“Thank you”
He strokes the back of my hand. “I pray that one day you and your family will find the answers you need to fully heal from this.”
I nod, placing my free hand on top of his. “I feel like me telling you this has changed the mood in the room, so let’s talk about something else.”
“I know what you’re doing but I’ll indulge,” he says rolling his eyes. “My parent’s look forward to meeting you.”
Surprised by his statement, I throw the pillow next to me at him. “Why do they want to meet me?”
Yiorgos leans in closer to me, lowing his voice, “Because if you don’t already know let me make it clear, I’ve claimed you,” he replies. “You are my woman and I’m not letting you go.”
Twisting in my seat to fully take him in, I ask, “And how do you know I want to be your woman?”
Yiorgos laughs, “Call me psychic, but I knew you were mine the first time I saw you.”
Batting my eyelashes at him, I sarcastically respond, “And what if I don’t want to be yours?’
“You don’t have a choice,” Yiorgos says before laying a breathtaking kiss on me. Dinner forgotten; I start to fist his shirt. What the hell is going on here? We were supposed to be enjoying a meal, not having a night of pulling out our sexual pent-up frustration. “Yiorgos, we can’t.” I whisper against his lips.
He smiles, “I know, but just so you know, I’ve never felt this way about a woman. You, Deanna Lowe is destined to be the woman by my side, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone come between that.”
I can only gawk at him. His words bring butterflies to my stomach.
