AllFreeNovel
Share Us
There was that voice. She’d only heard it a couple times on the phone, mostly when she’d said something bad about herself. He really didn’t like that. But that voice she knew as his gentle reprimanding voice, and it too would melt her into a puddle.
She slid her gaze to him, finding him resting his tattooed forearms on the table, leaning close to her. She swallowed thickly. “Hi,” she squeaked.
“Hi,” he said back, his voice deep. “I appreciate you wanting me to be comfortable, but let me worry about that, alright? You just sit there and relax. Would you like some crayons? Think I saw a bucket of them when we came in with the kiddie menus.”
Her face burned bright red, and she covered it with her hands. What was a guy like him doing with her? Asking if she wanted to color, asking about Ottie? She had to be dreaming. Men like him didn’t exist.
“What is it?” he asked softly. “Did I mess up already?” She spread her fingers, looking at him through the gaps.
“How could you possibly think you’ve already messed up?” she breathed, gaping at him.
“Well.” He held his thick fingers up, ticking off his list as he began to speak. “You screamed when you saw me, told me your brother would skin me alive, said you have a gun, knife, and lighter in your bag, and now you won’t look at me. We can go if this is too much. I should've known it would be too much.” He shook his head, his dark brows bunching. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your car. You don’t have to?—”
“Stop!” His mouth snapped shut, his brows lifting. “You haven’t messed up. I’m just insanely nervous, and don’t know how to talk to men who aren’t my brother or Pike. Or my neighbor—” He made a low growling sound deep in his throat and she stared at him.
“We’ll get back to that,” he growled, eyeing her. “Continue.” She shook her head, trying to get her thoughts in order again.
“Okay, well, anyway, I just can’t talk to men. And you’re like the king of all men. The most manly of men. Most masculine of masc’s—” His lips twitched.
“Most masculine of masc’s?”
“I just don’t know what to do or say. And I’ve already made a fool of myself a million times over. I don’t know why you’re even still here. You should’ve already run for the hills.”
“Well, there are no hills to run to,” he said teasingly.
“Jett!” she cried, closing her eyes as she dropped her head back.
“I’m kidding, pretty girl. You know I’m kidding. Even if there were, I wouldn’t run to them. You’re cute when you say all this shit, even if you’ve threatened to kill me a few times. It’s still cute.” She cracked an eye open.
“Really?” she whispered, lowering her head and opening her other eye.
“Really.” He gave her a firm nod, his eyes boring into hers. “I don’t lie.” She let out a long breath, nodding as she relaxed back into the booth. “Now, would you like some crayons and a picture to color on?”
“You won’t think it’s weird?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I did.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “You know what? I’ll get them for you. If you don’t want to use them, you don’t have to. But they’ll be there. How’s that?”
“Okay.” She smiled shyly, and he winked at her, sending heat coursing through her body. Honestly, she liked having him taking charge. She liked knowing she didn’t have to make any decisions.
He slid from the booth and made his way to the bar. Leaning on it, he waited for the waitress to notice him.
Abbie clenched her hands together under the table as the waitress smiled prettily up at him. With her pretty red hair twisted in a clip at the back of her head and the effortless way she seemed to talk to him, to float around the diner, she’d be a better fit than she was for Jett. But he just dipped his head as she handed him the kid’s menu and crayons, shooting Abbie a weird look from across the room.
Abbie immediately averted her attention back to the table. Her hands unclenched as she watched Jett stroll back to the table from the corner of her eye. He slid the paper in front of her, and she bit back a smile.
“It was meant to be,” he said as he sat down. “You can color it for Ottie. He’d love it, don’t you think?”
It was a picture of a beaver building a dam, and a small giggle left her. “That’s not an otter.” When he didn’t say anything, she peeked up at him from below her lashes. He was just staring at her. Were his cheeks a bit pink?
“What is it?” He shifted his gaze to the paper, his brows bunched.
“A beaver.” She clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing, but her entire body vibrated with the effort.
“Oh.” His dark eyes twinkled as he grinned at her. “But Ottie will love a beaver friend, won't he?” She nodded happily as she grabbed a crayon. She hesitated. Her mother always hated how much she colored. Even if it was on her own artwork, she still felt like it was too childish. “Go on, pretty girl. I’ll order for us.”
She chewed her lip nervously. “I’m a little picky,” she whispered, feeling her face flush. He patiently waited to hear what else she had to say. “I don’t like vegetables.” She scrunched her nose as he chuckled.
“Well, they’re good for you, so you’ll need to eat them sometimes.” She shook her head, and his brow rose. Just the one. She tried to mimic it, but her tongue ended up slipping between her lips. “What are you doing?”
