"Trust me, Sidney," she says, her tone all pert and adorable.
I grunt, pulling into a spot in the crowded lot.
"Wait for me," I murmur when she reaches for her door handle.
She glances over at me and then nods, placing her hands in her lap.
I hop out, circling around to help her from the truck.
"You know, I wouldn't need help if this thing had steps," she says when I lift her out with my hands around her waist.
"Never needed them before now. No one else ever rides in my truck."
"Really?" She gapes at me. "No one?"
"No one."
"Not even your sister?"
"Especially not my sister," I chuckle. "Last time I drove with her in the car, we damn near died because she stressed me the fuck out."
"Sidney Hawkes," she says, grinning at me, "are you a control freak?"
"Hell, probably." I shrug, not denying it, because yeah, maybe I am. I like calling the shots and deciding what happens. I don't have the fucking patience to wait for someone else to make up their mind.
Her soft laugh is half-giggle, half-snort, one-hundred percent addictive.
"I'll order steps for the truck," I murmur, linking our fingers together.
"You don't have to do that."
I do, actually. As much as I love any excuse to touch her, she may have to drive the truck someday. She needs to be able to get in safely. I have a feeling she isn't ready to hear that, though, so I don't say it. I just grunt, striding toward the restaurant with her at my side.
As soon as we step through the doors, I feel like a fish in an aquarium. Everybody inside turns to stare at us. Judging by the jolt of excitement whipping through the place and the furious whispering, half of them recognize me.
"Hawkes!" someone shouts. "Yo! That's Sidney Hawkes!"
"Told you to trust me," Hattie says, grinning as we're mobbed by fifteen people with their phones out, all asking for photos and autographs.
I shoot her a dark glare, but she just smiles at me like this is the best day of her life. She tries to slide out of the way when I pose for photos, but I shake my head at her and refuse to let her go. I keep her right beside me the entire time I'm signing crumpled napkins, ensuring she's front and center.
"Enough," I growl at the crowd after a few minutes. "My girl is hungry."
They all step back immediately, making room for us to pass by.
Hattie practically skips to the counter at my side. "See? This is so much better than a fancy restaurant. I get tacos, and you get to make a scene. Win-win."
"The scene was for you, baby," I remind her.
"I know." She peeks up at me. "And we don't even have to wait an hour to eat."
Yeah, there's no way I'm going to be able to let this girl go. No way in hell.
Hattie is like a little kid as we make our way to the private box at the Lyric Opera House after dinner. She's full of tacos, a slushie, and ten thousand questions, and I don't think she's ever been happier. At least until we make it to the box level.
As soon as we step off the stairs, a blonde in a tight blue dress notices us. She looks me up and down like I'm a fucking steak. When she sees my hand linked with Hattie's, her expression turns sour.
"Cute dress," she sneers at my girl.
