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.”