“My guy doesn’t need any breaks. Not in class or anywhere else,” she saucily retorted. The feel of her soft lips on my cheek after that comment soothed my rising temper. By then all the guys were laughing.
“Guys, we had plans to go to brunch after class, before the big guy has to head into the station. Want to join us?”
I turned to give her an incredulous look. She returned it with one of her own.
“I’m in.”
“I’m always fucking hungry!”
“Grub time!”
I sighed as all three agreed to join us. My Angel reached up again, giving me a quick peck, and whispered, “It’ll be fun.” Looking down into those eyes, I doubted I’d ever be able to refuse her anything.
****
“Since you bums decided to crash my alone time with my woman, brunch is on you,” I told the guys as we sat down at one of the tables of an American-style diner only a couple of blocks from the gym.
“Bullshit!” Don countered. “Let Richie Money Bags over there take the tab,” Don grunted, jutting his head in Carter’s direction.
“Richie Money Bags?” Angela asked, gaze bouncing between the four of us with confused eyes.
Carter dipped his head, obviously not wanting to speak up. That problem was solved when Corey, who sat directly across from Angela, intervened.
“Carter’s last name is Townsend.” He paused, giving Angela time to let the name register. A few seconds later she gasped as it came together.
“You’re a Townsend? Like of Townsend Industries?”
“The one and only, toots,” Don spoke up.
“Don’t call my woman toots, asshole.” I pointed a finger at him.
All three of the guys chuckled.
“This one’s grown a possessive streak around you, Angela,” Don laughed.
I looked down to my left, to see her grinning back at me. “I kinda have, too,” she stated.
That funny feeling in my chest started happening again.
“Anyway,” Carter interrupted our moment, “to answer your question, yes. I am a Townsend of Townsend Industries.”
“Wow. Wait, isn’t your dad a high-level executive there?” she asked me, the fingers of her right hand curling, as she gripped my workout shorts on my thigh.
“He is.” I nodded.
“Did you two know each other before joining the department?”
I shook my head. “No. Young Rebel over here has probably never stepped foot in a Townsend Industries’ office.”
Corey and Don snickered.
“Let’s just say, I made my own way.” His voice had a heavy note to it, and it was obvious there was more to the story, but his response made it clear he didn’t intend to give up any more information than what was already said.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to as the waitress returned with the food we ordered. A plate with an omelet stuffed with chorizo sausage, red and green peppers, mozzarella cheese topped with salsa, and potatoes was placed in front of me. A plate of three fluffy, stacked pancakes topped with melting butter and a jar of syrup was placed next to it. My stomach began grumbling when the scent of the food hit my nostrils. We all dug into our meals.
“How is it?” Angela asked. A habit of hers, even if she didn’t cook the food herself.
I leaned in, after swallowing a mouthful of pancakes. “They’re pretty good, but your pancakes are better.” Her eyes lit up. She genuinely got a kick out of making people happy by feeding them. And I got a kick out of seeing her happy. She could serve me sardines for breakfast, and I’d probably say they were delicious just to make her smile like that.
