With Killian’s attention on the other man, Dizzie took in his unexpected appearance. All clenched jaw and don’t-fuck-with-me menace. This badass side of Killian was fucking hot.
Once the creep was out the door, Killian focused that growly attention on her. “Can’t you stay out of trouble for a minute?”
“Did he recognize you?” They spoke at the same time.
Dizzie glared at him. “I was sitting here minding my own business when he came over.”
“You should have told him to go away.”
“Gee, why didn’t I think of that?” Her words dripped with sarcasm. She stepped around the spilled coffee and settled at the second table.
Killian sat opposite her, angling his body to see over her shoulder.
She could still see past him and appreciated the consideration.
“Why are you staring?” he asked.
“I wasn’t expecting…this.” She waved her hand, indicating his entire outfit.
His smile broke through the disguise.
It wasn’t his paparazzi smile, the one she’d seen at the gala or in videos. This was the real Killian. The newsies only ever caught this one in candid photos, pictures captured when he was having fun or hanging out with Tommy.
Her amusement evaporated. She shouldn’t be having fun with Killian. Not when it was her fault his friend was dead.
He reached across the table and grasped her hand. “What’s wrong?”
Curling her fingers around his was instinctive by now, though she tried to keep her touch light. It terrified her how easy it was to be with him.
“Sorry. I was thinking about…” Dizzie didn’t know what to call him.Tommyseemed presumptuous. “Mr. Gilmore.”
Killian’s expression sobered.
Hands clasped, they sat in silence. She stared at their intertwined fingers, scarcely daring to breathe. Afraid to blink.
This couldn’t possibly be happening. And she never wanted it to end.
The waitress delivered another cup of coffee and shattered the moment. Killian pulled his hand away. Dizzie experienced the loss of warmth and companionship immediately.
“What do you want?” The waitress glared at Killian.
The interaction was totally unexpected. His disguise must be working. No woman with a pulse would treat Killian St. John that way.
He pointed at Dizzie’s coffee. “I’ll have the same.”
Oh no. Dizzie winced, but before she could warn him, the waitress was gone.
In a blink, the waitress was back. She set the cup on the table with enough force to send coffee sloshing over the side. “Anything else?”
“No, thanks.” Killian looked confused. He turned his attention to Dizzie. “What did that guy want?”
Dizzie choked on her coffee. Seriously? She was dressed like a hooker and he had to ask? She chose the simplest answer. “Me.”
He stared at her so long, she squirmed under his scrutiny. Was it that hard to believe?
Finally,finally, he spoke. “I don’t know whether to compliment him on his taste or chase him down and beat the shit out of him.”
The heat in his words shot straight to her core and she pressed her thighs together to keep from fidgeting.
