“Yes, Olivia, for you.”
Chapter Fifty-five
The waves crash against the sand as the sun sets, dipping beneath the horizon, casting a longing golden glow across the surface of the sea as if saying goodnight.
It takes some time before the night truly reigns, a kernel of daylight clinging to the clouds before wielding to the power of the moon.
A small table has been set up at the edge where the sand meets soil, stone paving cutting it off, a thick line that travels miles both left and right, a clear divide.
A candle flickers within a tall glass vase, a polite server showing us to that very table. A chair is pulled out for me, and I delicately start to lower myself into the chair until…
“Absolutely not.” Malakai snaps. “Get your hands away from my wife.”
The server jumps back, hands going up as shock crosses his face.
“Malakai!” I scold.
But Malakai doesn’t listen, he steps up to me, his hand going to my back, “No one touches you.”
“He wasn’t touching me.” I glare at him.
His eyes plead with me, and I soften a little, “Go on then.”
His face breaks out into a smile, beaming and then he grabs the back of my chair, waiting for me to resume lowering into the seat. I’m shaking my head at how ridiculous it is, but I can’t help but smile too. When I’m sitting, Malakai takes the chair opposite me.
“Now apologize,” I say.
With a frown, Malakai opens his mouth, likely to ask why but I cut him off.
“You snapped for no reason,” I explain, “He did nothing wrong. Apologize.”
“Olivia.” He warns, the rumble of his voice sending goosebumps over my skin.
“The way you treat wait staff says a whole lot about you. They’re human too.”
“It isn’t because he’s our server, it’s because it’syou.”
“I’m so serious, Malakai.”
He huffs out an apology and turns his eyes to the waiter still awkwardly standing to the side. “My apologies for snapping.” He says, “But keep your hands away from my wife and we won’t have a problem.”
My mouth pops open but he just grins smugly at me.
Prick.
“Can I get you started with some drinks?” The server asks nervously, and I note how far away from the table he is and shake my head. This is ridiculous.
We order our drinks, and he hurries off, heading toward the restaurant a few hundred yards away.
“Did you pay them to set this up out here?”
“Yes.” Malakai answers, turning his face toward the sea.
“Thank you,” I tell him, “This is thoughtful, Malakai.”
“I wanted to take you on a date.” He repeats.
“A date could have been inside,” I laugh.
