Gargoyle (Woodland Creek)(16)
I sighed quietly, his gaze catching mine. But I swiftly turned on my chair, back to my food. “No one hurt your brother, Mr. Mayor,” I grunted quietly, lifting an eggroll from a sack while Jonathan finally started loading his plate with his favorites. “If anything, I may have hurt my shoulder trying to push him the hell out of here.” I pointed a finger at the door. “You guys can leave that way.”
There was an extended silence.
Isaac rumbled quietly with interest, “Is that from Super Wok?”
Instantly, I grumbled, “There’s not enough for you.” Another point at the door. “Leave.”
“No worries.” Caleb snickered softly. There was a dragging sound on my coffee table. “I got you dinner, Mr. Mayor.”
I growled quietly under my breath, peering over my shoulder. Isaac was stretching his bulky arms over his head, his shirt riding up to show a portion of his flexing tan stomach muscles, his jeans riding low on his hips as he moved toward the coffee table and the carton of unopened food that Caleb had apparently brought just for him. My eyes closed against the site he was, like a hot and sweaty f*ck come to life. I quickly jerked my head around, holding Jonathan’s dark gaze. “They’ll leave soon.”
He had paused eating, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth, noodles wrapped around them. He didn’t move for the longest moment, holding my gaze until his red brows furrowed the barest bit. A slow blink, then he calmly lifted the chopsticks the rest of the way to his mouth, and chewed silently, his gaze holding mine, not looking away.
The others behind us gave us some privacy as they began talking softly to one another.
My own brows started to furrow, a slight worry that I may have exuded an attraction for Isaac, but I quickly spoke to cover it, my expression turning peaceful. “How’s Lucy?”
A red brow lifted. “Still mine.”
Yes, he had taken our tiny furball of a dog—she was a mutt from the shelter—when he had left. I glanced down at my dinner, forking a small bite, being meticulously careful with it, giving myself something to study. My voice was soft as a whisper, full of misery. “That wasn’t what I asked.”
He chewed for a moment, and then glanced down at his own plate. “She’s fine.” Another half-quiet moment. “I think she misses you. She carries around that horrible leash you bought her. She doesn’t like the new one I got her.”
My lips curved the barest bit around my fork, keeping my head tucked down, trying not to show him how much this pleased me. “The leash isn’t that bad.”
He snorted, resting his elbow on the table, waving a hand in front of my lowered face in aggravation, beginning to relax a bit. “It has purple and yellow ducks on it.” Another snort, another wave of his hand. “How is she supposed to feel empowered against the bigger dogs with a damn leash like that?”
My grin couldn’t be stopped as I glanced up at him, falling into his eyes as I laughed at his irked expression. “Let me guess. You bought her a black spike leash.” He had been eyeing those one day in the pet store.
His gaze narrowed, almost playfully. A touch of himself, but not quite. “It’s a lot better than ducks.”
My lips twitched. “Quack.” When his own lips twitched at my horrible imitation of a duck, I mumbled, “So she likes ducks. It’s not a big deal.”
He pointed his chopsticks at me, leaning forward a little over the table. “She’s tiny. Those other dogs at the park could use her as a toy.”
I shook my head, my shoulders relaxing. “She’s got spunk. Plus, she’s damn fast.”
He hummed softly, his lips curving into a true smile as we stared at one another…until it faltered, cracking the barest bit. My own smile swiftly disappeared as he sat back in his chair, his expression back to being carefully guarded. My stomach plummeted as he caught himself enjoying me and put that wall back up between us. His tone was, at least, civil as he continued eating and asked, “Have you decided on a major yet?”
“No,” I answered softly and began picking at my food again. “I did get an actual regular gig, though. The flower shop hired me on part time.”
He hummed quietly. “You know, you will have to—”
“I know,” I cut him off, tossing him a glare. “Just not right now.”
He eyed me a moment. “Some things don’t change, I suppose.”
“And some things do,” I whispered, glancing back down at my food. I cleared my throat quickly, shoving my heartbreak aside, and pushed forward. “Though I did get some brochures for college.” I shrugged a shoulder, pushing my food around on my plate. “I read them, too.”
His chuckle was soft. “That’s progress.”
I glanced up into his eyes, not flinching from his penetrating gaze. “It’s kept my mind busy.” Trying not to drown in my misery. “And I still have plenty of time. I’m young enough.”
His lips pinched the barest bit, then he stated quietly and honestly, “You should know this.” His mouth thinned further, glanced once in the direction of my uninvited guests where they were chatting quietly, then back to me. My stomach rolled at what I saw in his gaze. He peered at his food, then back up, and whispered gently, “I went on a date. Two actually. With the same woman.”
My very being utterly froze. I couldn’t breathe as my fork clattered to my plate loudly.