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“Hey,” he echoes. He marches up to me, grabs me by the hips and yanks me so I’m flush to his body, then kisses me like we haven’t seen each other in a year. “You’re a fuckin’ sight for sore eyes.” He stops, frowns, then says, “I mean you’re beautiful.”
I tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. “You are too.”
Wendy clears her throat and we both turn towards her as she stands.
“Trigger, this is Wendy, my assistant. Wendy, this is Trigger.”
Trigger grins at her. “I bet you were a Vegas stripper when you were younger.”
A bright smile breaks out on Wendy’s face. “How did you know?”
I’m wondering the same thing.
Trigger shrugs. “Beauty like yours don’t fade with the years.”
I can’t tell how sincere he’s being, but Wendy is eating it up. “If I were 20 years younger…”
“If I weren’t already taken by gorgeous here, you’d be next on my list.”
My cranky receptionist giggles like a high school girl. “Oh, go on.” She looks at me. “He’s a keeper, hon. Now you two get out of here, before I make a fool of myself.”
Trigger holds my hand as we walk out the door, then gives me another passionate kiss before he helps me onto his bike. “You braided your hair,” he comments. He gives it a little tug and says, “It’s a fuckin’ turn on.”
“You’re looking mighty fine yourself,” I tell him as he straddles the bike in front of me. He smells like tanned leather, no scent of cigarette smoke, and his jeans are faded, but clean. He’s wearing a Henly under his vest and his hair is pulled back into a ponytail though a few strands have escaped. He’s the hottest man I’ve ever dated.
“We’re going to the Mad Greek’s,” he says, then starts his bike. He whips out of the parking lot full throttle, and I hug myself against him. I’m exhilarated by the wind in my hair, his hard muscles against my chest. I see my future unfold before me and it’s better than I ever imagined.
The restaurant is one I’ve never been to before and almost too classy for our attire, but the host doesn’t blink an eye when he sees us. In fact, the guy in the suit and tie greets my soon-to-be lover like he’s a long-lost friend. “Good to see you, my man,” he says with a light accent. “Been a while.”
“You too, Christos.” Trigger glances around. “Looks like business is hopping.”
“Couldn’t be better.” Christos picks up menus as he looks at me. “Hello.” Appreciation is written on his face, but his voice is respectful and cautious. He side-eyes Trigger who’s watching him like he’ll kick his ass if he tries to flirt with me.
“Evanee, Christos is an old friend.”
“Hello,” I say and offer my hand.
He takes it, lingering a fraction too long. Trigger yanks me out of the grip as he scowls at the owner. “I’ll eat your fuckin’ hand if you don’t watch yourself.”
Wow. Imagine what he does to his enemies.
Christo’s expression remains neutral. “Would you like your usual table?”
“Yeah,” Trigger replies as I feel a flare of something… wait… could it be jealousy?
“Sounds like you come here a lot,” I murmur, trying to keep the peevishness out of my voice as we sit across from each other at a table for four.
“Yeah,” he replies. He kisses my knuckles, then turns my hand palm up and licks it.
I shiver, deciding I don’t care how many girls he’s brought here.
“Thought this was a good place for someone as fine of you. Wasn’t sure because I haven’t had a real date in years.”
Again, with the wow. “So then who do you bring here?”
His eyes roam the room as he thinks. “Rocky and me eat here sometimes, but not since Jess. Red a couple of times. Once I brought Hash, but the fucker’s an animal.” He stops, thinks about it. “My dad.”
That surprises me. “You have a dad?”
