He chose a little Italian restaurant at the end of the street. I’ve worked at the other end of this street here in downtown Chicago at the coffee shop for the last three years and never took the time to eat here.
As he holds the door open for me, I mumble a thank you and instantly regret letting him choose. I’m too underdressed for a place like this. My jeans and white button up shirt look out of place compared to everyone dressed up from their Sunday morning church services.
The woman seats us in the back and frowns as I watch her sniff the air. I lift my left arm to smell the sleeve of my shirt. “I smell like smoke.” Crap. Did I say that out loud?
Case chuckles. “No, you don’t.”
I arch an eyebrow. “What other excuse do you have for her putting us in the back?” I question.
“She knows I prefer it back here,” he replies simply.
“Oh,” is all I say. I’m sure she knows everything that he prefers. Sexually. “How well do you know her?” I blurt out then immediately sink back into my seat.Why did you ask that?
He doesn’t even bother to look up from his menu as he smirks. “Well enough.”
Why does that make me feel jealous? That someone knows him in a way that I don’t? The man is dark and dangerous. All you have to do is look into his eyes and they promise a night you would never forget. He just screams power and those tattoos … they call to me like a dangerous threat. The way the blue and black lines travel up and down his forearms. His left forearm has a black skull that looks like it belongs to the devil himself. It has dark blue flames that come through the outline of the skull. Then there’s black ink that looks like smoke coming out of the skull’s mouth. It looks like it’s on fire. My eyes roam up to his black t-shirt, and I wish I could lift it up to see the rest of his tats. Both arms end right at his wrist. But the watch on his right hand covers part of it. I feel my insides tighten at the thought of him taking off his shirt for me to look at his chest. Every time he moves, it pulls the material tighter and I can make out his pecs. I wonder if they feel as good as they look. I sigh heavily; maybe it has been too long since I have had sex.
I look over to see the hostess; I watch her seat a couple of businessmen a few tables down. I eye her black patent heels that are probably about two inches tall. Her black pencil skirt shows off her thin legs and small waist. It comes to her calves but has a long slit up the back that some would consider a little inappropriate for such a business place. But she pulls it off, and it looks classy on her. She’s tucked a black silk blouse into her high skirt. The V-neck isn’t too low that her boobs spill over the top, but it’s low enough to show she has large implants. Her blond hair—that you can tell came from a bottle, but is not overly processed—is pulled up into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, giving her more of a teacher look than a hostess look. When she turns and catches me staring, she gives me a warm smile, showing off her beautiful teeth. Not one that says I just caught you staring at me, but one that says hi, it’s okay to stare at my hot self.
I look away and then at Case. His blue eyes are staring at me intently. He totally just caught me checking out his booty call. Please God, just end this day already.
I clear my throat. “So what is good here?”
“Everything,” he replies. A smirk growing on his face.
Was he just implying her? No, I asked about the food. I skim the menu and most of this stuff is more than what I pay for in a month at the grocery store. What happened to a burger and fries? Hell, I’ll settle for a hot dog from the guy on the side of the road who pushes one of those little carts around. I’m not the type of woman who lives on rabbit food and water.
“Case.” I put my menu down. “This is too expensive. We don’t have to eat here.” I wave my hand in the air.
“Is that really the problem?” He places his menu down and stares at me with those dark blue eyes. They make my heart race and my skin break out in goosebumps.
“Yes.” I can see how that sounded. Especially how he caught me staring at the runway model he’s obviously taken to bed.
“Then don’t worry about the price.” He picks his menu back up.
I reach across the table and pull it out of his hands. It slams against the table. “I don’t want to owe you any more than I already do,” I say softly so others can’t hear the exchange.
His smirk grows to a full smile. “We’re staying.”
I let out a puff of air. Getting frustrated. “Case …”
“Why did you call me today?” He changes the subject.
I mention me owing him, and he brings up me having to ask him for help today? “Because I had no one else,” I say softly. “And your number was just there.” I shrug. “I didn’t think you would answer in all honesty. And then when you did, I figured you’d be the last person to come and save me considering how I’ve treated you.”
He sits and stares at me for a long time. I’m guessing he’s trying to decide on just what to say. Maybe remembering all the bad stuff I said to him. After what feels like forever, he finally speaks to me. “Just because you don’t agree with what I do doesn’t mean I’m a bad person, Taylor.” I swallow thickly. He’s right. And Savannah was right; I’ve never been so quick to judge people before. Why do I let Case get to me so much? Because I’m afraid he may take my brother away from me.
I swallow my pride once again. “I apologized …”
He interrupts me. “I don’t need apologies from you, Taylor.”
Lunch went by agonizingly slow. Case didn’t say anything else to me, and I didn’t know what to say to him. We ate our meal in silence, and I couldn’t help but watch the way the pretty blond smiled at him as we made our way to the front door. Case came around and opened the car door for me, and I mumbled a thank you loud enough for him to hear. We may not be speaking, but I can’t be a bitch when he’s being a gentleman. He makes his way around the front of his car and gets behind the wheel.
Looking over his shoulder, he backs his car into the traffic before putting it into gear and taking off. I can tell by the way he’s driving that he’s mad. The way he shifts gears, slamming on the brake and the gas. And I know it’s because of me. But I don’t know what it is that I’ve done exactly.
The silence in the small car is almost deafening. I go to open my mouth to ask him the first thing that comes to my mind when my cell phone starts to ring. I look down to see SAVVY lighting up my screen.
I press ignore. Savannah calls two more times, and I decline both of them. I’m not in the mood to speak to her. I needed her, and she was just now calling me back? Screw that.
