Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(54)
Erin nodded. “I’m positive. You put the words gravy fries in my head days ago. I’ve been craving them. Please? Pretty please? We’re so close, I can practically taste them.”
I wanted to balk that French fries with gravy on top was on the opposite end of what I had in mind for our first nice dinner together, but she was giving me that beguiling innocent yet so damn provocative look, I caved.
Still, I wanted to show Erin some class and a bar pub was not on my list. I parked my truck and killed the ignition, thinking that this woman sitting next to me was my first real date since I broke things off with Nikki. We’d been together for so long, I wasn’t even sure I knew how to date someone.
I gazed over at Erin, noting her easy smile, the way she permeated my wall with effortless ease, knowing that this woman would be worthy of putting forth an effort. Just the way her eyes sparkled at me turned me inside out and flipped me on my ass. I felt uneasy, inept, and unsure, wanting—no—needing her to like me. Shit, I hadn’t felt like this in… hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been this nervous. I just hoped to hell none of that was showing on the outside.
She gathered her purse and reached for the door handle but I wasn’t going to allow that. I may have brought her here and let her get away with taking her expectations for a nice meal down a notch while I fumbled to manage this date, but that was as far as I was willing to bend.
This entire day had tested my patience, starting with that bogus traffic stop Stiles and Castoll pulled this morning. Bastards would have given her a sobriety test had I not driven by at just the right time. Castoll knew exactly who she was; I could tell by the smug look on his beady face when I stepped out of my truck that he was thoroughly enjoying messing with her.
And then that girl at the notary office trying to flirt with me with Erin standing right there? Unbelievable the way some of them behave with no shame. Hell if it didn’t make my ego swell a bit when Erin glared her down. But there was still plenty within my control and sensing her independent eagerness to let herself out my truck was something that would not happen on my watch. Kind of woman like her deserved to be treated like a lady.
“Hang tight a second,” I muttered, hoping she’d keep her lovely heart-shaped ass planted in the passenger seat without me having to repeat myself. She looked confused again as I spied her through the windshield, but I figured sooner or later she’d catch on to the way things are.
I held her hand, helping her climb out, watching those incredible legs and heeled boots unfurl to the ground. Some men love boobs, and as much as I loved to palm tit, I was a legs and ass man to the core. Visions of those luscious legs wrapped in some of my quarter inch red rope, trussed up like two candy canes and spread open for my pleasure made my dick twitch. I’d keep her tied up all damn day and f*ck her when and how I wanted to then. Patience, Trent.
“Thank you,” she said with a shy smile and it was easy to read that she was a bit uncomfortable with me, which made her all the more enticing.
We were ushered by a server I’d seen in here before to a booth in the back. Before Erin sat, I helped to remove her coat then nudged her gently, making sure I got the side facing the door. She arched a questioning brow when I stepped around her, then she narrowed those perplexed blue eyes as she slid farther into the booth.
“I never sit with my back to the door,” I muttered, trying to explain away her confusion.
“Phobia?” she asked casually, dropping her purse down next to her.
Maybe, more like vigilance. “I don’t like surprises.”
She turned, checking the door once more. “What kind of surprises are you not expecting?”
“The robbery kind.” Or the ex-lover kind, but I kept that one to myself.
“Ah,” she said, understanding seeming to dawn until her eyes narrowed on me once more, inspecting my chest. “Are you…?” She started to point but quickly withdrew her hand and then leaned over the table, whispering, “Is that a gun under your coat?”
I had my personal Glock holstered under my left armpit since I had picked her up at her place. I guess she could see it now, now that I’d unzipped my leather. “Yes,” I acknowledged, wondering where she was going with this.
“Why?” She motioned, pointing at it again.
“I’m a cop?” I figured that should be self-explanatory.
She fidgeted. “Yeah, but you’re off duty.”
She had no reason to be worried. “So?”
“So?” She looked sort of stunned. “Isn’t it illegal to just carry a weapon into a bar?”
I tried to harness my slight annoyance at her naivety. “I’m a cop twenty-four/seven, Doc. I’m just off-duty. I never leave home without it.” That answer didn’t seem to be adequate for her, considering she was frowning at me. I had to ask. “Does it bother you?”
She traced her fingernail over some imaginary pattern in the wooden tabletop and then picked at the corner of the menu. “I’m not sure.”
I set my forearms on the table, glancing at my bandaged hand for a second, knowing how much danger surrounds each and every one of us every day, though most folks walked around impervious to it all. Still, she’d given me a half-assed noncommittal answer, probably treading lightly around me. I had to shut down her unease.
I captured the tip of her finger with mine, stopping her fidgeting, and her mind from drifting to a wrong conclusion. “I’ve been a cop for ten years. I’ve seen enough in that time to know that I will never be caught off guard or unprepared, especially around here.”