by Karen Renee
Once the host left us, a staff member filled our goblets with ice water.
Before she departed, Brute said, “Tell our server to give us a minute.”
Brute grabbed my hand and leaned toward me over the table. “What’s got you looking so skittish, Kenzie?”
My head reared back. “I don’t look skittish. I’ve just never been here. That’s all.”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s part of it, but it’s not all. I can tell.”
I wanted to scoff at him, but the look in his eyes told me that wouldn’t go over well. “It’s nothing. And I might be a little nervous.”
His brows drew together. I expected him to call me on the lie, but he leaned back and a server strode to our table.
I hadn’t even had a chance to look at the menu, but Brute ordered for me.
“The lady’s having the Cosmo Medley and I’ll have a Sazerac. We’ll have the fried green tomatoes to start.”
Our server left and I asked, “How do you know—”
“I know it’s good. Had to come here for a networking thing a few years ago. Gave a guy shit about drinking such a girly drink. He hadn’t taken the first sip yet and gave me shit if I didn’t try it. I did, and if I hadn’t been on my bike, I probably would’ve had a pitcher of the things. You’ll love it.”
I smirked. “So, you like sweet.”
His lips pursed as he considered it. Then he drawled, “I like a lot of things.”
There was a story there, but somehow I knew this wasn’t the time. “Did you eat any food when you were here?”
He shook his head. “I did, but it was hors d'oeuvres, and some of those were special just for that event, though they served their fried green tomatoes. The only person who makes them any better is my dad, so that’s why I ordered those.”
I nodded and looked to my menu. A half rack of lamb was listed and I was tempted until I saw the price. Maybe Caleb had rubbed off on me more than I knew, but really I didn’t want to look like a total high-maintenance date.
I glanced up to find Brute staring at me. He looked like he was going to say something, so I asked, “What are you having?”
He stared at me for a while. “I don’t think you care what I’m having, so what gives, Kenz?”
I really liked him calling me Kenz. He wasn’t the first, but something in the way he did it was so much better than anybody else.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Bullshit. And for the record, don’t bullshit me, babe. Your eyes lit on something and then your lips turned down. You got a food allergy or something?”
Part of me wanted to go with that. It was the perfect lie, especially if things didn’t work out, but I wasn’t the type who could pull of lying. I always got caught.
I shook my head. “No allergy. I don’t suspect you’ll split the bill with me —”
“Fuck, no,” he nearly snarled.
A chuckle escaped me, but I cut it short. “I don’t want to come off as high maintenance by ordering the most expensive thing—”
“You ordering the King’s Fillet?”
I hadn’t even looked at that, and I shook my head.
He grinned. “Then have at it, woman. Wouldn’t have brought you here if I weren’t down with the bill at the end.”
I nodded once.
His head tilted a bit. “But, even if you wanted the fifty-dollar steak, which is the most expensive thing on the menu, I wouldn’t give a flying fuck.” He stared at me hard. “And don’t you roll your eyes at me, woman. I mean it. Whether this meal is a hundred dollars or four hundred dollars, it’s worth it just to spend time with you.”
The people at Hallmark might not put that on a greeting card, but he could damn sure be flowery in a very alpha-male way. And crazy as it made me, I dug it.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Don’t thank me. And I’m tellin’ you now, I don’t split sides here. One of my subcontractors brought his woman here, and he had to split his asparagus and his potatoes with her. I don’t do that shit.”
I leaned forward. “Gee, if we went to a movie after this, does that apply to the popcorn too? That’s important to know on a first date.”
“Get out of here, smart-ass.”
Our drinks arrived, and I nearly said they had the order wrong because my drink was in a high-ball glass, not a martini glass like most Cosmos were served. But the heavy-duty toothpick with a strawberry, raspberry, and blueberry on top told me I was probably wrong. The server said she’d come back for our dinner orders and left.
Brute lifted his glass. “To third dates, Kenzie.”
I set the toothpick on the cocktail napkin and touched my glass to his. “To first full dates, Sam.”
He grinned and then sipped his drink. I took a sip of mine and my eyes went huge. This was so much better than a standard Cosmo, it wasn’t funny. And really, I didn’t think the Cosmopolitan could be beat!
I looked at him. “Do they sell these by the pitcher?”
He laughed. It was loud, and he didn’t care if half the restaurant was staring at us. I loved that. His eyes settled on mine. “Doubt it, baby. And seein’ you tie one on will be damn entertaining, but that isn’t happening tonight since I have definite plans for you later.”
The server returned before I could retort. I asked her what side she would pair with the lamb.
“The butternut squash puree is very nice.”
I grimaced. “No. Definitely not. I’ll go with the sweet potato and seasonal veggies.”
Brute placed his order, his lips tipped up the whole time. The server collected our menus and departed.
“Why does butternut squash puree get a ‘definitely not,’ from you?”
I laughed quietly. “This shouldn’t be the first thing I tell you about my daughter, but when she was around eighteen months old, she loved butternut squash baby food. That was one of the few baby foods I made myself. I don’t remember if it was me or Caleb, but one of us tried to limit her and she raised holy hell because there was more in the bowl. We fed the rest to her, and of course her little belly couldn’t handle it. The massive clean-up on aisle one, so to speak... well, I’ve never cared much for squash afterward.”
To my relief, he chuckled. “That isn’t the first thing you’ve told me about your daughter. But, I’m not sure I can handle meeting her. Sounds like she’s good at getting her way, and if she looks anything like you, then I’ll be a goner for certain.”
I smiled and felt my cheeks heat with a blush. “That’s the best round-about compliment I’ve ever gotten. Thank you.”
The fried green tomatoes arrived and they smelled divine. My expression must have betrayed my thoughts.
Brute said, “They taste ten times better than they smell, Kenz.”
I popped a small bite into my mouth and moaned. My eyes darted around to make sure nobody else heard me, but I saw Brute’s chest bouncing with silent laughter.
“Like that food does that for you. Gonna like it even better when it’s me and not food that makes you moan like that, baby.”
I gasped so loud, I picked up my drink in an act as though I needed it for some reason.
After I swallowed, he leaned forward. “Told you I’d make you gasp a lot louder. And I’m just getting started.”
I SHOVED A SLICED CARROT around on my plate thinking I needed to save room for dessert.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
I looked up. “Nothing. Trying to figure out if I’m really full, or if I can finish this and have room for dessert.”
Our server seemed to appear out of thin air. “Did you say dessert? I’m sorry. Our pastry chef is out sick tonight. Though we have excellent after-dinner drinks.”
I looked at her, my mouth agape. “You’re joking?”
She looked at me flatly before shaking her head.
“That’s... really? There isn’t a back-up person?”
Brute grabbed my hand, which was lying on the table. “It’s all right. I had other
plans for dessert.”
My head swiveled to him, but I felt the look on my face soften because his eyes conveyed a heavy sincerity.
“Fine,” I said to him. Then I turned to the server. “I’m sorry.”
Her hands raised in a placating gesture. “No problem. Can I bring you coffee or wine?”
“Just the check,” Brute said, his eyes still on me.
Once she left, he squeezed my hand. “Dessert that big a deal tonight? I mean, I’d ask if you got that big of a sweet tooth, but I think that’s obvious. If it’s an issue, we can hit Mary Mahoney’s just for dessert.”
I grinned. “Thank you, but it isn’t a big deal, necessarily. All the other food’s been so good, I seriously wanted to see what they did with a dessert menu, you know what I mean?”
“I do. But we can hit anywhere you want on the way back to your place for the perfect dessert.”
The lack of confections at such a swanky restaurant had diverted my attention from my most pressing issue. That being, whether I’d invite Brute inside for what promised to be the sweetest thrill I could have all night. I wanted to, but I made it a habit not to have sex with men after only one date — or three if I used Brute’s measure. Another part of me felt obligated to put out, not because of the expensive meal, but because I was child-free. With the dicey situation involving Caleb, Veronica, and Aubrey, there was no telling when I’d have another totally free weekend. Yet, that was the very reason I wanted to put the brakes on. If we had sex, for all I knew he would move on and that would be that. It might be better to know that from the get-go, but if the way he kissed was any indicator, sex with Brute would ruin me for all other men.
“No. I don’t have to have dessert,” I muttered, popping the last bite of food into my mouth.
He smiled, and it still robbed me of my breath. The happiness in his smile was contagious, and if ever I thought his strong body was the main attraction, that smile would remind me that I was very, very wrong. I wouldn’t say he was my dream man, but God couldn’t have produced a better man if He’d dipped into my mind for the blueprint.
His eyes darkened and I looked away. He chuckled, which forced me to look back.
“Didn’t realize how shy you are. Been a long time since I had shy. Forgot how fun it is.”
There was plenty to read into that statement, but I wouldn’t do it. We both had pasts, and while I didn’t know his history, I imagined many women wanted his attention.
I sipped my water. “Glad you find me fun.”
The server returned with the bill. He glanced at it, handed her his card, and she left.
“You remember what I said when we met?”
My lips tipped up. I nodded. “You’re enough fun for both of us?”
He nodded. “It’s good knowing I don’t have to carry the load.”
I laughed as the server returned with the leather case containing our bill.
“YOU CARRY THE SHAKES, I got the cookies,” Brute said, as he parked his truck in my drive.
“Whatever you say. I was serious at the restaurant, mister. I don’t need dessert.”
“What’s done is done, lady. But even if it’s just a fast food shake, it would be criminal to let it melt.”
I let us into my house, went into the kitchen, and put the drink carrier, along with my purse, on the island.
Expecting to see Brute behind me, my brows furrowed. “Where are you?”
He rounded the corner into the kitchen. “Sorry, babe. Just adjusting your blinds in the front room. One thing to leave the light on for security, but I don’t like the idea of someone seeing you... and me... moving around in here.”
My head tilted. “Thanks, but my neighborhood is really quiet and—”
“Didn’t you tell me a man approached you with a picture of us kissing?”
I felt ridiculous for forgetting about that so quickly. “Oh.”
His slow grin held a naughtiness that both scared and excited me. “It’s okay to forget about that, since I haven’t. But I don’t want anyone to watch us later.” He gently shook the bag of (hopefully) still-warm cookies. “Not the only kind of cookie I’m gonna eat tonight.”
My breath caught for a moment before I whispered, “You surely are forward.”
His eyes glimmered. “Curve of your lips tells me you like that, though. Now, drink your shake, baby.”
I withdrew my shake from the carrier, but went to a cabinet for a plate. I put it next to the bag, and he upended it so the cookies spilled out. He snatched a peanut butter, and I frowned.
“They only gave us two peanut butters?”
“All they had, babe. That a problem?”
I shook my head, but peanut butter was my favorite, so I grabbed the other one.
He huffed out a laugh. “Gotta speak up, babe. Though, I do like seeing we have similar tastes.”
I spoke around a bite of cookie, which was, thankfully, still warm. “Besides people with allergies, who doesn’t love peanut butter cookies?”
He shook his head. “Don’t know.”
I wagged a finger at him. “No. Not anybody I want to know, that’s who.”
He swallowed. “That’s harsh.”
I wobbled my head. “Maybe. But a life without peanut butter cookies would also be harsh.”
He sucked on his shake and I noticed how hollow his cheeks went. With a twist of my neck, I forced myself to think about anything else. To help with that, I sipped my shake, but I worried my cheeks had hollowed just as dramatically.
He chuckled. I slid my eyes to the side and saw the twinkle in his eye. “Definitely forgot how much fun shy can be.”
I rolled my eyes while inching away from him, but his free hand grabbed my wrist. He set down his drink, and his cool finger glided along my collar bone.
I swallowed the sludge of milkshake while keeping my eyes on his. “What are you doing?”
“Nothin’,” he lied.
My lips quivered with indecision. I wanted to laugh since I knew he was lying, but I also wanted to pout because the idea of him doing nothing while tracing my neckline was borderline cruel.
His finger traced in the opposite direction. “What do you want, Kenzie?”
My knee-jerk answer was ‘anything... everything,’ but I couldn’t give him that. To keep from speaking, I closed my lips around my straw for a mouthful of shake. He took my cup from me and put it next to his. Just the look in his dark eyes demanded an answer.
I sighed. “I don’t know.”
He came closer. “That’s a lie.” My chin lifted, but his did, too. “We both know it, baby.”
“It isn’t,” I whispered. “I don’t know what I want... you to do, that is.”
The twinkle in his eye turned sinister. “You do, baby. The first two times we kissed, you damn well knew what you wanted. We just weren’t anywhere either one of us could act on it. Now, here we are. It’s dim. We’re alone. And I got plenty of ideas of what I want to do to you. I should act on those ideas, but I’m letting you lead the way. Why, I don’t fuckin’ know, but it feels like the thing to do. Though I could give you some pointers.”
My breathing had accelerated. I couldn’t slow it down if I tried. “Give me your pointers.”
His face turned twenty degrees. “You don’t need ’em, baby.”
In a raspy voice I didn’t recognize, I said, “Then kiss me, dammit.”
His tongue traced his bottom lip just before his teeth sunk into it, and then he lowered his lips to mine for a brutal kiss.
Things were heating up. His hands roaming my body spurred me to glide my hands over his massive chest. I liked kissing him so much it wasn’t funny. Something about him was just that much different from other men, and I couldn’t get enough of it. Ever.
My phone trilled with the ring tone assigned to Caleb and I broke away from Brute with my chest heaving. “Dammit. I’m sorry. I have to take that. It’s Caleb, and he has Aubrey this weekend.”
His heated eyes held mine. “N
ot a problem, Kenz. Find out what’s wrong.”
I put the phone to my ear. “Is everything all right, Caleb?”
“Why didn’t you answer your house phone?”
I looked over my shoulder where the answering machine sat. There were three messages and the handset indicated a call had been missed. “Because I was out, and I just got in about five minutes ago.”
“Aubrey’s sick.”
“She isn’t.”
He scoffed. “Like you would know. She’s had a bellyache all night.”
“Does she have a fever?”
“No, but—”
“Did you take her to McDonald’s for dinner like you always do?”
“Yes, but that wouldn’t make her this miserable.”
That was likely true, but then I asked, “Did you let her eat all of her Halloween candy? It’s all she talked about for the last six days.”
He sighed. “That isn’t the point.”
My hand went to my hip. “It is the point, when you consider the fact I found her standing on her bed trying to fake a fever just this morning. She’s angling to get us back together, and you need to let her know it isn’t happening. Is Veronica there tonight?”
“I need her pediatrician’s number.”
I rolled my eyes, but rattled the number off the top of my head.
“You know their number by heart?”
During the conversation, I watched Brute wander to the pantry and open the door. He scanned the shelves for a moment, then his eyes lit up, but I didn’t know why.
“Yes, Caleb. It has four zeros in it, and I’ve had to call it enough to talk to the nurse or set up her appointments that I know their number. Call for the nurse, not the doctor.”
“I don’t need to be told who to call, Kenzie.”