Loving Dallas(15)

I fake a wounded look. “And here I was telling myself you might’ve come for the company.”

I add “come” to my mental list of words not to say around Robyn, for my dick’s sake. He has some cherished memories of her that are fairly easy to evoke.

Robyn blushes as if she might be thinking something along the same lines.

“It’s good to see you, Dallas.” She says it like she means it and I grin like a lovesick jackass when she barely lets me give her a one-armed hug before we slide into the booth. “And I caught part of your show tonight. The crowd seemed really into ‘Better to Burn.’ I read that it’s been getting some radio play, which is great, right?”

I nod at an approaching waitress and avoid Robyn’s eyes. If I look directly at her, she’ll see the truth burning in them. She always could see right through me.

“Yeah, Dixie wrote that one. It’s doing well.”

Thankfully before Robyn can inquire any further into my songwriting, a waitress comes over to take our order.

“What’ll it be, kids?” Our waitress’s name is Kay and she has pens stuck in her hair, her shirt pocket, and her apron. Maybe if I kept pens handy like that I’d actually get a decent lyric or two written.

“The blueberry oatmeal pancakes and an orange juice, please,” Robyn answers after barely glancing at the menu.

“I’ll have the double bacon cheeseburger with loaded cheese fries and a large Coke.”

“Holy cardiac arrest on a plate.” Robyn reaches for the waitress before she turns away. “He was just kidding. He’ll have the black and blue steak salad with the dressing on the side and a Diet Coke.”

My mouth drops open and I am literally at a loss for words. Kay looks to me for confirmation. I shrug because what else can I do? Throw a tantrum and demand my f*cking cheeseburger? That seems like a good way to make Robyn regret meeting me here.

Once Kay has corrected my order on her notepad and walked away, I make a face at Robyn. “Well, that was . . . emasculating. Thank you.”

She bites her lower lip and creases appear in her smooth forehead. “Are you trying to kick the bucket before thirty or what? Your grandfather just had a fatal heart attack, which probably means heart disease runs in your family. So maybe you should, I don’t know, have something other than a cow topped with a pig dipped in grease for dinner.”

“Well, when you put it that way, sure, Robyn. A salad sounds super filling. Can’t wait.”

She grins and a dimple I used to have a habit of kissing every time I saw her pops out in her left cheek. “It will be. Get a glass of water, too. Drink the entire glass before your meal arrives and you’ll be full in no time without all that trans fat clogging your arteries. And if that doesn’t work, I might even let you have one of my pancakes.”

“Since when are you so health conscious? God, you’d freak out if you saw the way we eat on the road. Half my meals have come from places with wheels and a walk-up window.”

She cringes. “I wondered about that. Not that you look bad or anything, just, um, I don’t know . . . tired, maybe.”

I arch an eyebrow at her. “I look tired? Did I look tired onstage?”

She shakes her head. “No. You looked great onstage. I mean, you know, like you’re supposed to look.” She blushes again and all sorts of images run through my mind. I want to tell her she looks great. And that she’d look even more great naked in my bed. But that would not be appropriate. At all.

“Well, thank you. I think.”

Robyn lets out a loud breath. “I just meant that when I walked in here I noticed you had dark circles under your eyes and you obviously haven’t shaved in a while. I know you’ve been on the road even before this tour and I wondered if you were taking care of yourself. That’s all.”

“Ah.” I nod and contemplate the many hints she’s thrown at me. “How did you know I’d been on the road before this? Dixie tell you?”

“Uh, no. Not exactly.” The rose-colored hue deepens on her creamy cheeks and I ache to see it on other parts of her body. When Robyn blushes, she blushes all over. “I had to do research for my job, because of the sponsorship. It was on your website and social media stuff. Plus I’m an All Grown Up fan and I saw that you were touring with them. I just didn’t make the connection and realize you were going by Dallas Walker now until the new Kickin’ Up Crazy tour promo materials showed up at my office.”

“If you ask me to get Afton Tate’s autograph for you, I’m going to be seriously offended.”

The tension that’s been holding Robyn rigid finally eases and I grin.

“Well . . . Christmas is just a few months away, so if you wanted to get me something, that’d be an excellent gift.”

I let out a low chuckle. “I’ll see what I can do. But if you keep hijacking my food orders, I’m going to reconsider giving you anything at all.”

“I might survive,” she says without cracking a smile. “And if you let me order for you more often, you might, too.”

I can’t stop watching her eat. The way she cuts her pancakes into cute little squares and slides them around in circles in the syrup before bringing her fork to her full pouty red lips is like foreplay I can’t get enough of. She’s letting out these tiny little moans with each bite and I’m rock hard beneath the table.