“I’m a creature of habit and lately I’ve veered off the normal path and it’s creating an uproar,” I explained.
“That seems like such a minor thing,” Gabe replied. He looked confused as to why people would make a fuss over it.
“Let’s put it this way,” I said, feeling the need to explain a little more. The guy should know what he was getting into if he… Nope. I stopped myself right there. It was just dinner. “I used to eat the same thing each week and never veered from my routine. I don’t like to switch up my routines.”
“Hmmm, interesting.” Gabe didn’t look too upset about it. “So, what would you normally eat every Monday?”
“Fried chicken dinner.”
“Tuesday?”
I narrowed my eyes in irritation. Were we going to go through each day of the week to satisfy his curiosity? “Cheeseburger and chili.”
“You never once wanted to eat tuna salad on a Monday night?” Gabe asked.
“Tuna salad is a lunch food, never a dinner food. Dinner food is always hot, regardless of the time of year or temperature outside.” He looked at me as if I was a rare species. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. “The only exception to my routine was Sunday.”
Gabe put his elbows on the table and lowered his chin into the palms of his hands. “Sunday dinners at your house.” He remembered.
“Yes, with my friends since my parents moved to Florida.”
“Yeah?” Gabe perked up when he heard the mention of his home state. “Where’d they move to?”
“Boca Raton,” I answered. “They sold the house to me and headed for warmer weather so my dad could play golf four times a week and my mom could knit on her back porch all year long.”
“Sounds nice,” Gabe said. “Back to Sunday dinners now.” He ignored my scowl and kept on talking. “So, I assume that your dinner guests include Meredith and Chaz.” I nodded. “Do you ever invite anyone else to Sunday dinner?” I knew he was fishing to see if I ever included guys that I dated in the mix. Ha! Dated? How sad was it that I was twenty-eight years old and on my first real date with a guy? I’d be damned if I told him that because I’d never get his fat head back through the door. The last thing he needed was a swelled ego. I stopped and reminded myself that it was just dinner, not a date. “Sometimes Meredith or Chaz bring a date, but it’s usually just the three of us. We don’t do so well in the dating department.”
“Hmmm, you don’t say.”
I didn’t appreciate Gabe’s snark and I opened my mouth to blast him with enough of my own to peel his skin, but Daniella showed up with our dinners and saved him. “Thank you, Daniella,” I said once my dinner was in front of me.
“You’re welcome, sweetie. Is there anything you fellas need?”
“I’m good,” I said and then looked to Gabe. He’d already shoved a forkful of potatoes and gravy in his mouth so he just shook his head. Damn, he must’ve fallen on that food like a starving man. At least he didn’t pick up his country fried steak with his hands and start eating it. “When was the last time you ate?”
He held up his finger in the universal gesture that could be taken for wait or give me one minute. “I think I ate a bag of chips from the vending machine at the station around two this afternoon.”
“That’s not very healthy.” I frowned at the thought of him skipping meals, even though he was a grown-ass man who didn’t need me to fuss over him. Why did I even want to fuss over him?
“It’s not something I usually do, but something urgent came up that needed mine and Adrian’s immediate attention.” He cut a bite of his steak and put it in his mouth. His eyes closed and moans similar to the ones he made during sex slid from his lips.
I noticed a few of the ladies around us sat up and paid closer attention. How could they not? Gabe was gorgeous on every level. I mean, he didn’t have a single unattractive feature. “Good?”
“Soooo good.” Okay, I’d heard that come from his lips while I was stroking his cock and massaging his prostate. It was bad enough he was making sexy noises in the diner but then he had to go and use his sexy words too.
I leaned forward and lowered my voice so only he could hear me. “You think maybe you could stop working up the female patrons at the diner with your sexy moans and talk.”
“Huh?” He looked up from his food. I saw the food lust in his eyes and knew he was lost to me for the time being. He was reduced to single grunts, moans, and the most basic language. I had seen the same reaction when we were having sex.
I couldn’t help but find the moment both cute and funny. “Never mind. Enjoy your food.” I returned to my own meal and ignored the secret thrill that worked its way through my body each time I realized that I could reduce him down to his baser needs.
“Do you want dessert?” Gabe took the last piece of his roll and wiped it across his empty plate, looking for the last bit of gravy. “I could use some pie,” he said.
I planned to clean my plate as he had, but at a slower pace. “Their banana cream pie is to die for,” I told him. “I could go for a piece when I finish my dinner.”
“I’ll wait.” Gabe wiped his mouth one more time and leaned back in his chair. I could feel his eyes on me as I cut my Salisbury steak. I had the feeling that Gabe could be very patient when he decided he wanted something – or someone. “What do you do besides running and yoga to stay so fit. Your abs are tight as hell.”
I nearly choked on my food. It wasn’t that he asked me in a loud voice, but every nosey ear in the diner was tuned into what we said. Well, if they wanted a fucking show then I’d give them one. “I pole dance.” I nearly laughed at the gob smacked expression on Gabe’s face. “It’s great for your core muscles.”
