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“It’s not. But thanks for saying so.” With a deep breath, she removed her hand from his arm and turned back toward the table, looking closed off.
Move or stay? Move or stay?
He fought with himself, unsure of what to do. Leave her alone and go back to his side of the booth, or stay next to her while they had their meal? What would make her feel more comfortable? More secure?
He didn’t know, and it was pissing him off. When there was a problem, he liked to figure out the solution and fix it. He didn’t like feeling like this. Unsure. Unprepared.
Without a word, he grabbed his plate and dragged it across the table. He settled in, picking up his burger and taking a bite. Her eyes were on him as he reached for his sweet tea, but he ignored her, not wanting to make a big deal out of it.
He tapped his finger against the side of her plate. “Eat,” he rumbled. Her breath caught, but she didn’t reach for her food. “Abbie.” He turned toward her with his brows raised. Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“You said you had a surprise for me,” she said slowly. “Was that a lie to wake me up?”
“If you eat, you can find out,” he said. She rolled her eyes as she looked down at her plate. Damn, if she were really his, he’d take her to the bathroom, flip up that little skirt, and spank her ass until it was the same shade of pink.
“Want a bite?” She held up half of the sandwich, her eyes dancing as she grinned at him.
“I’ll try whatever’s left,” he told her. “Eat, Abbie.” With a sigh that was far too dramatic for the situation, she took a bite and chewed exaggeratedly.
Such a little brat.
The cutest little brat he’d ever seen.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, but then his worries began creeping in again. He needed answers to his questions. The problems wouldn’t just disappear if they ignored it.
One thing at a time.
Clearing his throat, he turned to watch her. She hummed happily to herself as she nibbled a thick-cut fry, bouncing slightly on the seat.
“I’m going to ask you a question while you eat,” he said. She stopped humming, but still bounced slightly. Nodding, she took a larger bite of her fry, watching him warily. “What would you like your safeword to be? Something easy to remember. Something you wouldn’t normally say.”
“I say a lot of things all the time,” she said, and he scrubbed his hand over his mouth, hiding his smile.
“What about red?” he asked, and she shrugged.
“A bit boring.” She turned her gaze toward the ceiling as she thought. Suddenly, she snapped her fingers. “I know!”
“What is it?”
“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Perfect, right?” Her smile was wicked, and he shook his head.
“Something a bit easier, pretty girl,” he chuckled.
“That one was gold. Can’t believe you didn’t like it,” she muttered to herself. “What about snickerdoodle?” He huffed out a laugh, but nodded.
“You’ll remember to say that if you need to?” he asked, and she nodded.
“Of course, I will. They’re my favorite cookies.” He made a mental note as he nodded.
“Snickerdoodle it is then. If you feel unsafe, uncomfortable, sick, hurting—just, if you feel?—”
“I know how to use a safe word,” she interrupted, giving him a teasing smile. He sighed as he ran his hand over his short hair.
“I felt like I needed to explain it.”
“I’ve got it, big guy.” She patted his arm. “Now,” she clapped, rubbing her hands together, “let’s get to the surprise part. What is it?” He shook his head, smiling.
“Another question,” he said, and she groaned. “So dramatic.”
