I put them on after I strip. They are comfortable. Shorter than I’m used to, but my ass and nuts aren’t complaining. The suit and shirt are classic black and white, just the way I like it. After the dress socks, the pants fit perfectly and are also of a material I’m not used to wearing but it feels damn good. I button up the white shirt - leaving the top few undone, then put on the matching blazer. The accompanying belt, shoes, and watch tells me she thought of my entire look.
After checking my hair, I must say I look damn good. My new watch tells me it’s almost time to meet Karessa downstairs. Taking a page from her book, I wait until the very last minute.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Karessa
I’m leaningon the Aston Martin I rented for the night when I check the time on my phone. Jagger is a few seconds from being late. The door opens and he comes strolling out looking damn good in the outfit I picked. His hair is still styled from his haircut and shampoo. The suit fits better than I imagined and he’s holding the rose I bought. It dangles between his thumb and finger by his side. He struts out like a model then stops a few feet away from me. His eyes roam over my body, appreciating my all-white pantsuit.
The soft white shirt underneath is like a dress shirt without the buttons. The deep V stops before my navel and tucks into my high-waist pants that taper at my ankles. I completed the look with nude shoes and soft gold accessories. The long statement necklace that rests in the valley of my breasts seems to be his favorite place to look. After he left, I had the stylist put my hair in a sleek nape ponytail with a side part and a flirty swoop since my hair is too long for bangs. His gaze heats once he realizes my lips are the same red from our wedding.
Instead of pouncing or saying something crazy. He puts the rose to his nose and sniffs it. His eyes hint at mischief, as he runs the rose along his cheek then down his neck and the bit of exposed chest. He does a slow spin so I can check him out and once he’s within touching distance, I get a glimpse of how the night is going to be.
Jagger smiles sweetly like he’s shy although he was born wild.
“Oh my god, the bouquet was so sweet. The outfit and jewelry…” he pauses and puts his fingertips over his lips like he’s overwhelmed . “Then I come outside to find you leaning on the car like Jake Ryan…” He shakes his head like he’s blushing. “I can’t even…”
I keep a straight face and try not to laugh.
Ah, so he wants to be the woman tonight.
“You look beautiful tonight,” I tell him. Moving, I open the passenger door. “Get your sexy ass in the car.”
He fake blushes and slides inside then waits for me to close the door. Since the attack, he wants nothing to do with his Aston Martin. He’ll drive everything but that one and I pretend not to notice. I want to see his reaction to this one since I'm considering getting one just like it for him.
I consider it a good sign that he’s looking at the interior and toying with the radio and other gadgets inside. He stops and folds his hands once I climb behind the driver’s seat. Jagger is back in woman mode.
“This is a nice car.” He tilts his head to look at me but giggles and puts his hand over his face when I return the look then whines, “Stop. Don’t look at me like that. You’re gonna make me nervous.”
I withhold my laughter and drive us to the restaurant. The valet opens our doors but I’m out before him. Jagger grins when I open the door for him and I decide to smack his ass when he passes. In true form, he acts like he’s surprised and trying not to like it. Deacon just happens to be leaving. He looks at us from under his Stetson but simply shakes his head.
“I don’t want to know,” he says as he disappears outside.
We’re at the best steakhouse in Fairhope since it’s Jagger’s favorite food. We have the exclusive table where we can watch the chef and pick our own cuts of steak before they cook it. I know what I want to order but I pick up the menu anyway.
“What are you getting?” I ask him.
Jagger fake blushes and slides the menu aside, “I don’t know, maybe soup or a Caesar salad. I can’t eat in front of you, I’ll be too nervous.”
“Uh-huh,” the waiter arrives, puts a breadbasket between us, lists some of the seasonal off-menu options, and presents me with a wine list. I slide it aside since Jagger’s tastes are simple. Water and whiskey. “We’ll have the king crab avocado stack for an appetizer and a bottle of your finest whiskey.”
The server pauses to look at me. “Ma’am. The cost…”
I hold up a hand. “I know and it’s okay. Only the best for my man. We’ll have a chicken Caesar salad, the bone-in ribeye - medium rare with Oscar on the side, whipped mashed potatoes, Alaskan king crab and rock shrimp mac and cheese, creamed spinach and roasted green beans.”
I know Jagger’s stomach is growling but he’s trying to be cute.
He jots down the order. “Do you want the salad out with the appetizer?”
“No. You can bring it when the other food is ready.”
The server returns shortly with the whiskey and I wink at Jagger while his glass is being filled. He smirks and averts his eyes as his long fingers sift through his hair and he tucks his hair behind his ears. He’s hilarious but I’m not going to tell him.
We chat through the appetizer with me asking him questions as if we just met. His phone rings and once he answers I hear Oran ask why Jagger needed him to call.
“Because you’re my date safety buddy. You can call the police if something happens to me.” Oran huffs like he doesn’t know what Jagger’s talking about but listens anyway. “The woman who picked me up is black with green eyes, about 5’8, drives an Aston Martin…”
“Does she?” I hear Oran ask.
