It has an industrial, rustic look. To the far right are exposed bricks. The chairs are simple black steel, but the tabletop is a mix of different shades of wood.
A young female server comes to our table. She smiles at me, but when her eyes land on Reaper, they widen before she pastes a fake smile on her face. “Hello, my name is Cassie. I’ll be your server for today. Would you like a drink?”
“A water,” I reply.
“Beer.”
She gives us a sharp nod. “Have you decided on your lunch, or would you like more time?”
I peek at Reaper. “Are you ready to order?”
“Yes.” He looks at the server. “I’ll have the pork ribs.”
“Chicken burger for me. Thanks.”
She writes it down on her pad, giving us a polite smile. “Great. I’ll go get your drinks for you.”
He looks at me with a raised brow.
“What?”
“I thought you would have ordered something fancy.”
I fight to keep a straight face. “Sometimes you can’t beat the classics. So... tell me something about yourself.” I inwardly cringe at how lame that sounds.
He leans back in his seat. “What do you want to know?”
“Why the nickname Reaper?”
He scratches the back of his neck. “You sure you want the answer to that? It might change the way you see me.”
My stomach drops, but I want to know. “Please tell me.”
He shifts in his chair, looking uncomfortable, making my stomach drop further. “During our tours, they called me Reaper because the grim reaper is death. They gave me targets to take out, and I was very good at my job.”
“Is that all?”
His lips partially open as he tilts his head. “What did you think it meant?”
Before looking at him, I look away. “I don’t know what I expected, to be honest.”
“My turn,” he says with a devious smirk. “What’s your plans over the next two years?”
I’ve never been asked that question before, but then I never thought I’d do or be anything other than a housewife. “I am going to apply for a chef course at a community college.”
“You know there’s a college about fifteen minutes from here.”
“Yes. That’s the one I was looking at applying to. I was going to speak to you about staying at the MC while remaining the cook there so I can afford to pay for college.”
He studies me. “The MCis yourhome.”
Joy fills my heart at his words... home. “I admit, it feels like home.”
“Your home is also in my bed... with me.” His expression is dark but sexy.
I clench my thighs together and laugh it off. “Yes, your bed is very comfortable.”
He clears his throat and raises a brow. “And what about me?”
