“I’m paying for dinner tonight,” she announces, and I stop walking. She stops, too, and stares into my face.
“Woman, stop all that bullshit. Do I look like a pussy to you?”
She rolls her eyes. “Nope. You look like my king,” she teases. She gets on her toes and touches my head. “You’re missing your crown.”
Last night, after she made a delicious dinner, she handed me a gift bag. It was the first present I’ve gotten since I left my aunt’s house when I was a teenager. I stuck my hand in the bag and pulled out a gold crown. The type a stage actor playing royalty would wear. She put it on my head and ordained me as her king. She rode me while I wore nothing but that crown.
“And your king has ruled that you will not pay for dinner.” I pull her close and put a hand on her ass. “Stop playing.”
“Whatever,” she says. “But look.” She drops my hand and spins for me. “We match.”
I look at her bare legs and the short, black dress she’s wearing. I put both hands on her hips and say, “I don’t think I’ve ever looked that good in my life.” I take her hand and lead her inside. It’s a warm night, and Paulene’s is packed, with several patrons waiting outside and in the lobby.
All eyes focus on us from the time we walk up the steps and go through the front door. A hush blankets the restaurant. No words are needed with the hostess. She escorts us to a private booth.
Everyone watches us while we walk to our table. Eden and I are seen together regularly in Shadow Cove, and we’re always treated with the same quiet regard. Eden is unbothered, as I am. I drop her hand and throw my arm across her shoulders. When we arrive at our booth, I slide in beside her instead of across from her.
I kiss her temple while everyone watches. The restaurant is unusually quiet.
“Why is everyone looking at us?” Eden whispers.
“They’re looking at you because you’re so beautiful.” She blushes, but our server arrives. She’s an older woman who doessomething that people around here barely do for me. She smiles warmly and takes drink orders.
I pull Eden close while she studies the menu. Everyone seated nearby watches us. They don’t talk, but stare as if we’re not just a couple out for dinner on a Saturday night.
I nibble on the side of her neck. She giggles and runs her hands through my hair until an old lady stops by our table. I look up at her and return to Eden’s neck. She clears her throat until she gets Eden’s attention.
“Hi, Mrs. Templeton.” Eden sits up and pulls her dress down. Mrs. Templeton stares at her bare legs in disapproval. I put my hand on my girl’s knee and massage it.
“Eden, are you okay?” the woman asks while giving me the side eye.
“I’m fine, ma’am,” Eden says. “This is my boyfriend, Rip.”
Mrs. Templeton doesn’t acknowledge me, but I take out my phone and type a quick text.
“You can come sit with us,” she says. “I’m sure your mother will not be pleased to hear that you’re here with a man practically feeling you up in public.”
The hostess arrives and puts a barrier screen in front of our booth. Once she’s done, Mrs. Templeton pokes her head in, but I push the screen. It taps her on the side of the head. She huffs and walks away. Eden giggles.
“Her daughter has three kids by three different men, and her son went to prison for stalking and assaulting his girlfriend, but she wants to police me,” Eden says.
“Sounds about right for this town.”
Our server returns with my water and Eden’s cocktail. I pull her close and throw my arm across her shoulders. My hand winds up in the V of her dress, and I cover her breast while she studies the menu like she’s going to be tested.
“I think they’re here,” I hear a familiar voice, and I roll my eyes. Seconds later, the preacher’s daughter sticks her head into our booth. Her cousin soon follows.
“What are you guys doing here?” Eden asks, but I can tell she’s happy to see them.
“Mrs. Templeton called my dad to tell him you were here so he could pray for you. He called to warn me, so here we are,” Selene says proudly. “We were already down the street because Cori suddenly wanted to come here. Can we join you? It’s an hour wait otherwise.”
I stare at the ceiling.
“What? No. It’s our date night,” Eden says.
“So? Let’s eat together. I’m starving,” Selene whines.
“Please,” the other one says. “I had to work today, so I haven’t eaten. We don’t care if he has his hand on your boob.” She gestures at my hand, and I reluctantly pull it out, but I rest it over the material of her dress. “We’re all friends here, and I support a woman’s right to get felt up whenever and wherever she wants.”
