Reckless.
In fact, he seemed as if he was starting to trust me, which normally I would be celebrating, but I was feeling like an asshole for some reason. I didn’t care if I lied to drug dealers. I didn’t even care if I stabbed them in the throat. I killed them, then slept like a coddled newborn baby.
But this big guy—I was starting to hate calling him Moose—was getting under my skin.
Wonder what his name is? Don’t ask. Don’t you fucking dare ask. Don’t—“What’s your name?”
“I already told you.”
I shoved him harder and the glass rattled in its frame. “So help me, don’t say Moose. I don’t take Mooses out on dates.”
A small smile curled the corner of his pink lips. “Keaton. It’s Keaton. I don’t think anyone except my mom has called me that since I was a kid. Not sure even she remembers it.”
I snorted and patted his solid chest as I took a step back. “Keaton. Well, we’re going on a date. And you’re going to like it. Don’t test me on this.”
He shrugged and straightened his shirt as much as he could by tugging the bottom hem. I hadn’t really ruffled him, but he seemed to need a second to get his shit together, so I politely looked out into the street and watched the cars pass. Nearby astreetlight popped on despite the streaks of sunlight still in the sky.
“All right,” he muttered.
“Good.”
We kept walking. There was a decent restaurant on the next block, and I hadn’t been there in about six months. I’d never taken anyone there except coworkers, so it felt like a safe new adventure.Élégantwas a small bistro with exorbitant prices, a staggering wine selection, and a snooty owner who knew my boss. I had money on the fact that he was actually Gerald’s side piece, but I kept those thoughts to myself.
We went inside and the hostess greeted us with a smile. She was a statuesque woman with multicolored braids coiled into a French twist and her blue dress hugged all her curves. “Reservations?”
“No, but I know Aloysius. I met him through Gerald.”
The gorgeous woman didn’t exactly frown, but she nodded as she glanced down at a tablet on the podium in front of her. “I’m afraid we don’t have a window seat available, but something in the main thoroughfare?” She gestured toward the quaint tables in the middle. Each was covered in a simple white cloth with a miniature red glass hurricane lamp burning as a centerpiece.
“It’s all good. Thank you for having us last minute.”
She gave me a gracious smile that probably would’ve sent a straight man to his knees. Did they hire models in this place?
Moose tugged at his collar as we were seated and actually squirmed when he looked at the menu he found on the table. “I’m more of a mashed potatoes and roast beef guy.” He flicked the corner of the leather holder.
“They have steaks and baked potatoes. They’re just calling itbifteck de contre-filet. Would you prefer me to order?”
His shoulders hunched and he leaned forward. “Guess a Daddy would do that?”
It was a close thing. I almost crawled across the table to kiss him. I couldn’t get over how sincere his eyes were right now. Fuck, what was wrong with me?
I nodded because I couldn’t get any words out.
“Hello. I’m Ross, and I’m your server for the evening.” A short kid with long floppy brown hair, freckles, and a spotless white shirt stopped beside our table. He tapped his order pad against his leg and smiled.
“I already know what I want.” I rattled off an order that I was sure would make Keaton happy. Steaks. Potatoes. Cake—two kinds, so he could pick what he wanted. “And match a goodvinwith it. Thanks.”
He nodded and rushed off.
Keaton opened his mouth.
“So, you have a kid? That’s what you were talking about when you called someone, right?” I couldn’t leave the topic alone in my head. With each nugget Keaton revealed about himself, he matched up less and less with all my previous experiences.
Keaton gripped the edge of the table, bunching up the white cloth in both hands. “None of your business. Drop it.”
I shrugged, but now I was worried about a kid stuck in some sordid mess. No child deserved that. I had to dig a little bit more. “Did you knock some chick up? That happens. Are you bi?”
He scowled, but a man came to a stop by the table before Keaton could respond. The stranger was huge—his pecs were massive—with a wide grin on his handsome face. Like Keaton, he wasn’t wearing a suit, and his silver-streaked blond hair and green eyes were impossible to ignore.
