Page 177 of His Hungry Wolf

I stared into Quin’s eyes. I never wanted to look anywhere else again. When I couldn’t resist him any longer, I leaned further across the table and kissed him. Our lips lingered on one another’s sending a chill down my spine. The kiss continued until the sound of someone grunting in disgust ruined the mood.

Hearing it, I lowered to my seat unsure how to feel. Still staring at Quin, he knew what I was thinking before I said anything.

“Let it go,” Quin pleaded. “You know nowhere can be perfect.”

Sure, I knew Quin was right. But I didn’t like him having to experience that. And as long as I was around him, no one would ever disrespect Quin or our relationship.

I slowly turned searching the room for who had made the sound. Our waiter was back in the kitchen making our burgers. We probably wouldn’t have been able to hear him over the sizzling if it had been him. And the only other person in the place was a young guy dressed as a busboy.

I eyed the busboy wondering how long it would take me to beat the crap out of him. The kid couldn’t be more than 20 and clearly had a chip on his shoulder. His tussled, dark blonde hair highlighted his incredibly squared jaw. His angular features spoke to how lean and muscular he was. And, more than anything, he seemed like he was looking for a fight. Looks like he found one.

“You have a problem with something,” I said getting him to lift his head and look at me.

“What?” He said using it as an excuse to bring his tray a little closer.

“I said, you got a problem with something?” I repeated sliding out of the booth and showing him who he was talking to.

By any comparison, I was a big guy. The only guys bigger were the 300-pound ones who hurled themselves at me on the field. This kid couldn’t be more than 170 soaking wet. Yet, he kept coming like he had something to prove.

“Yeah, I got a problem with something. I got a problem with you two. Are you going to do something about that?”

“Cage, don’t.”

“Yeah, Cage, don’t,” he mocked sending my blood boiling. “You two come in here thinking you could do whatever? This ain’t that type of town. We don’t accept your type here.”

This was it. I just needed to hear him say it and I was going to make it the worse day of his life.

“And what type are we?” I asked slowly readying to pounce.

“What type? The fa…”

“Nero!” The cook shouted cutting him off. “Come here!”

The guy shut up but didn’t look away.

“I said get your ass back here. Now!”

I was ready to kick the snot out of him. But instead of him taking that final step, he looked to the ground and slithered back to the kitchen. I remained standing as I watched.

“What are you doing talking to my customers like that? I said what are you doing talking to people like that? Speak!”

“I don’t know,” he said avoiding the cook’s eyes.

“You don’t know, huh? Then get your ass out of here and don’t come back until you figure it out. Go! And I’m docking you a day’s pay for what you said.”

“I didn’t say anything!” The guy pleaded.

“You said enough. Now go before I change my mind and fire you instead.”

The guy slithered out of the restaurant staring me down as he left. I was willing to finish my meal with Quin and meet him outside if he was going to wait. He didn’t, though. And, it wasn’t long before he disappeared into the dark of the night.

“I’m so sorry about that. The kid, he’s got some problems. His mother’s all messed up. I only keep him around for her.

“But, let me assure you that we welcome all types here. In fact, you know what, your dinners are on the house. Sorry about him again. Really,” the cook said before returning his attention to our meals.

Calming down, I returned to the booth and found Quin’s eyes.

“Have you ever experienced anything like that before?” I asked him knowing that I hadn’t.