Page 90 of Avenging Angel
When he was done, I remarked, “My dad arrives Wednesday. He’s made a reservation at Lon’s that night. Wanna come?”
He leaned against the back counter, leveled his eyes on me, and answered, “Yes,” then took a sip of his coffee.
That gave me a good deal of relief.
And that thought made me wonder if I should be concerned about the level of relief it gave me, and the fact that Cap’s and my first date had so far lasted sixty-one hours.
“Are you weirded out our first date has lasted sixty-one hours?” I asked.
“No. Though I am mildly disturbed you counted the hours,” he teased.
I shot him a grin.
“Are you?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No. So, you showing tonight with more clothes, what do I stock to prepare? Protein powder? IV hydration packets? Raw meat? Ninja stars?”
He burst out laughing.
I kept smiling as he did.
“I’ll cover myself,” he said and lifted the coffee in his hand. “You got a travel mug, baby? I gotta hit it.”
That meant our first date was over.
Which sucked.
I frowned.
But he’d be back that night.
I grinned.
“Jesus,” he whispered.
I focused on him to see him very focused on me.
My nipples tingled.
“What?” I asked.
“Waited fifteen years to find you.”
My breath left me with awhoosh.
So it was a wheeze when I repeated, “What?”
“One of a kind,” he replied.
But he said no more, and for some reason (self-preservation? me not doing the seemingly impossible and running him off by launching myself over the bar and ripping his clothes off?), I decided to let it go.
“Travel mugs are hidden behind the coffee mugs,” I told him.
He saw to that, came around and did the hair-pulling, loads-of-tongue kiss thing.
He lifted away to say, “The schedule of my day is never guaranteed, but I’ll keep communicating. I’d like to cook for you tonight, don’t know if I can do that. But you’ll know in time to make your own plans.”
“Okay.”