Page 64 of Fighting Dirty
Tossing him an indulgent smile, she murmured, “There was a bit of bragging in there, I think.”
Grinning, Ryder leaned back in his seat. “Not all fuckers can handle a real woman, baby girl. We can’t have you scaring off your crazy stalker until I’m sure he won’t come bouncing back.”
“How do you manage to work a compliment for yourself in every talking point?” she questioned with a chuckle.
“Guess I’m headstrong, cocksure, and don’t really understand the whole concept of low self-esteem,” he quipped.
His father’s brusque voice broke into their flirting. “My annoyingly confident son is correct, Tiffany. You do need to lure him in with a quaint mixture of careful ego stroking, longing, remorse, and purity. Maybe mix in some complaints about how low class bikers are and how much you miss eating gourmet treats out of his hand. He’ll know what you mean by that. Tell him you’ve been doing all that awful stuff to get his attention.”
A queasy feeling churned in her stomach. “I don’t think he’s going to buy that.”
“Sure he will,” Ven said confidently. “Pretend to pout like a child. The twisted fucker will eat that right up. Trust me on this.”
Ryder pointed to his father inconspicuously with one finger and mimicked his voice. “Yeah, Tiffany, trust my old man to know all about what twisted fuckers like to hear from hot women.”
“You are dying to get yourself into a throw down with your old man today, aren’t you, babe?”
Ryder shot her a heated look. “I think I forgot something in your room.”
Hickory, who was still kneeling by Sarah, came swiftly to his feet. “Not a chance, stud. I actually had to take Sarah for a ride last night to get away from your loud marathon sex. Our attorney is flying in this morning, and we need to meet with him to get pointers on how this needs to go down to stay legal.”
“Fine by me, ‘cause I want to put this whole mess behind us so we can get on with our lives,” Ryder said with a shrug of his wide shoulders.
Getting down to the business of looking the part, Tiffany pulled out one of her old suits. It was a black, monochrome-colored suit with tailored wool dress pants, a matching sleeveless angora sweater, and a fashionable long coat that came down to her knees. She paired it was a pair of black boots and began choosing gold accessories to liven up the outfit.
After shopping at a couple of local shops with her mother, they slid into the restaurant they knew Stuart frequented. Noticing that his table was empty, she directed the hostess to seat them there. The woman reluctantly did so.
Tiffany and her mother ordered drinks, and she folded her hands in her lap, trying not to look as nervous as she felt. Anxiety surrounded over whether or not Stuart was going to buy her wanting to come back to him, not because of any real fear of him. He’d terrorized her for so long, something in her brain just decided not to bother with producing a fear response anymore. It was weird, but to the best of her knowledge, that’s what it felt like was happening.
Tiffany knew the moment Stuart stepped through the door because the people at surrounding tables who had been eyeing her turned to look at him. Carefully avoiding looking in his direction, she waited for him to approach the table. The moment he stepped close, she stood and dropped a kiss chastely on his cheek.
Eyeing her suspiciously, he sat in his seat. “What are you doing here, Tiff?”
Sarah spoke up politely. “I gave her your message, and she insisted on dropping by to speak with you.”
“Is that true, Tiffany?” The cold, derogatory tone of his voice brought back unwanted memories.
Lifting her coffee cup with a trembling hand, Tiffany took a sip. “I wanted to hear you say the message yourself.”
Waving away the server with an imperious slashing motion, Stuart slid her coffee over in front of himself. “Nothing has changed, kitty. I’ve always wanted you back at my side. You know that.”
“Well, I’ve been giving it some serious consideration,” Tiffany lied smoothly.
“Tired of those white-trash bikers?” he asked smugly.
“They’re nice in their own way,” she said with a casual shrug. “You can’t really expect a woman who’s been used to a civilized life with a gentleman to be happy living among outlaws.”
“I knew that was just a phase you were going through. I never lost hope that you would accept one of my generous offers to reunite. However, you’ve been a bad kitty lately, haven’t you, love?”
Glancing down at the bare table where her coffee cup should be, Tiffany tried to sound submissive. “I was just playing around, trying to get your attention and impress you.”
“Well, it was annoying,” he said with a fission of anger. “I can’t just let something like go. There will be repercussions for your poor behavior. You’ll have to earn my forgiveness.”
Clearly unable to keep it together now that she knew what Stuart’s coded language meant, Sarah stood. “I’m going to go to the powder room and give you two a chance to talk privately.”
Tiffany’s heart ached for her mother. She should have never been caught up in a situation like this. Trying to wipe the angry expression off her face, she refused to look up.
“I think you’re playing me, Tiff. I’m not some ignorant biker,” Stuart informed her.