Page 59 of Old-Fashioned

Then with that mic drop, he looks back to the group and says, “So, I was sitting there for two reasons, the first, I couldn’t fucking believe she had to spit my steak out, you’ve all had my steaks, they’re the fucking bomb.”

We all nodded, because we had, and they really were that good.

“Then, second, I was sitting there waiting for her to come back out so we could eat dinner. Had I known everything that was taking place, I would have finished my meal, walked calmly into my house, turned the burners off she was using, and kicked her out of my fucking house.”

We all agreed and apparently no one noticed when the woman got mad and walked out. Whoops.

Gracie was talking about her date she had last week, and we all sympathized with her when the man left her with the bill. He was a wanker.

Isla looked at me, and asked, “So, the two of you are officially a couple, right?”

I looked up at Abel, and smiled, “Oh yes.”

He winked at me, and had the nerve to ask, “How about we seal this deal with a kiss?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, and said, haughtily, “You just want to kiss me, Abel Black. And since I’m yours, what the hell is taking you so long?”

I watched as a slow smile spread across his face, and then before I could blink, he bent, wrapped his hands around my ass, and hauled my body up his, my legs circled his waist automatically and he moaned.

He freaking moaned.

And then with one hand keeping me pressed against him,

When I finally came back to myself, I recalled something and then blurted it out, “Were you drawing circles on my ass?”

He looked at me over his shoulder, winked, and then said, “Nah, my fucking initials.”

For the rest of the night, the smile that stayed on my face never wavered.

The looks he and I shared? Priceless.

And the women I got to watch approach him, and then turn and walk away when he pointed at me. Seeing them crash and burn? I freaking loved it.

It wasn’t until we were two hours from closing when I had placed an order with Abel that his feelings for me sunk in.

A blonde bombshell, someone closer to his own age who was the entire package in my eyes. Great hair, blue eyes, plump lips, a great rack, a tiny waist, and a great ass. Even I was jealous of her.

Isla got my stare and then bumped her shoulder with mine, “Trust me, sweetie, she has nothing on you.”

Thankfully, we were close enough to hear what was being said when she placed her forearms on top of the bar which caused her boobs to come together, and Abel, he never looked away from her eyes, when he asked, “What can I get you?”

“Well, how about a tall drink of you. I don’t see a wedding ring.

I was about to rip her fake ass hair extensions from her head when Abel did it for me, but with words.

Then, rather loudly, he said, “Baby girl, hurry up and fall in love with me so I can get my fucking ring on your finger, and you can put yours on mine, so shit like this will quit fucking happening.”

I snickered, “It won’t stop it from happening, Boss Man, you’re a fucking catch.”

He growled, “Then I need to find a plastic surgeon.”

I laughed and then shook my head, “No, just get my name tattooed on your forehead.”

He nodded then tagged his phone from his back pocket, “What are you doing?”

“Going to send my guy a message and get in there and get it done.” I could tell he was serious too.

Then I winked at him, “How about you send him a message, and we get matching tattoos?”