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“One of them will soon be my husband.” I bite my lip as I wait for her reaction.
“Oh.” Her mouth forms an O as she nods. “I know who they are.”
“You do?” I ask, my eyes widening.
“I did some digging when I left the bookstore. They have quite the reputation.”
“They do,” I agree.
“Dangerous,” she adds, her eyes connecting with mine.
“Yep.” I slide my hands into the back pockets of my jeans.
“And you’re safe… being around them?”
Safe? Mmm… not sure how to answer that.
“Yep,” is all that leaves my mouth. I point to my car and tell her I’ll talk to her later.
She appears disappointed by my abrupt departure, but someone is standing by my car who looks awfully familiar.
SEVEN
JOEY
There’s no way I was following her, but here she is. Standing in front of me, looking like sex on a damn stick. Her knee-high boots and tight-ass jeans fit her perfectly. Her tongue darts out, and she licks her lips, eyeing me for an explanation.
“You adding stalker to your list?” She crosses her arms over her chest. She has small tits, but the gesture perks them up just a little.
“This is one of our restaurants,” I tell her. “I was coming to take payment and pick up food.” She doesn’t move as I step closer. “Join me.” I keep walking, and she follows behind as I go through the back door, the kitchen hand nodding his head in greeting as I enter. The chef gives me a small wave as his face pales.
“Do you get off on making people scared of you?” she whispers.
“They aren’t scared of me. They’re scared of what happens if they don’t make payment. It’s as simple as that. You pay, there’s no issue.” I shrug.
“Fuckhead.”
I almost want to laugh at her words, they’re so vulgar, but I like it.
“How was your date?” She steps closer while everyone in the kitchen moves around us as we wait at the end of the counter the chef is using.
“Who said I was on a date?” she bites back. She pushes her hair behind her ear, sucking her lip between her teeth as she rolls it.
“Are you telling me you weren’t? That was the same woman you were fucking in your bookstore, was it not?”
She scans the area and sees a few eyes on us.
I don’t care, it’s none of their business.
“Yes, it was her.”
“You told her you’re marrying me?” I ask, just to be sure.
“I did,” she answers as the chef comes over and slides a plate in front of me.
I look down at it and smile. “Chef, this looks amazing.”
“This one is a bit different than last time. It has specks of honeycomb throughout. I’m gonna add it tomorrow if you say it’s good.”
