It’s impossible to deny the dark, delicious grumble that brushing my tits against him conjures yet thankfully, not impossible for him to continue. “He did some dumb shit to try to impress a girl.”
“Aw.”
“No,aw,would’ve been playin’ Peter Gabriel on a Bluetooth speaker on her front porch while she watched through her Ring camera, not breakin’ into some rich dude’s backyard to prove what a real man you’re not.”
One giant gasp is followed by me hissing, “Noooo…”
“Unfortunately,yeah.” He uses his free hand to reach for the small menu that’s parked beside the candle decoration. “So, Grams – the woman primarily responsible for raisin’ him since our mom died a few years ago – had Dubs – my best friend that youdidn’tsee get married – fly him out to me for punishin’.”
“Being with you is a punishment?”
“Only if you ask me nicely, Gillybean,” Thayne teases on a sexy wink.
Heat sprawls across my face as I force myself to bite the inside of my cheek.
I don’t know that I would like that.
I also don’t know that I wouldn’t.
I do, however, know that I have no clue how you evenask for that, let alone for it nicely.
“The idea is to treat Dalvegan like his own personal penalty box. Separate him from the opposin’ team, give him time to think about his choices, and ultimately, provide space for him to cool the F-town down.”
Once more, I snicker at the music reference, shake my head, and coo, “You love all music, don’t you?”
“No,” he says without hesitation, eyes lingering in mine, “but I think there’s somethin’ to loveinall music.”
His insightful retort isn’t presented long to reflect on courtesy of a long haired, long legged, brunette placing cocktail napkins down on the table while greeting, “Evening, Groffee.”
“Breve,” he politely replies, tone nor body language changing, to my surprise. “This is Gillian.”
“Gilly’s fine,” leaves me more meekly than intended.
“You can call me Caffè Breve or Breve for short.” Her bright brown eyes find mine when she finishes her rearranging of the objects on the table. “Groffee always sits in my section.”
“She’s the only one who works here that seems to know the difference between ABBA and Air Supply.”
My purse free hand lands theatrically on top of my heart. “Those arevastlydifferent.”
“And now you know why we’re sittin’ here.”
Light laughs are attached to her attention diverting back to me. “What can I get started for you, Gilly?”
“Give us a few, please,” Thayne respectfully requests. “I wanna be the one to let her know what she’s in for.”
“You mean other than a good time?” She sweetly sasses in return.
“Obvs,” is announced in a mirthful tone that feels friendly but not flirty.
Pleasant yet not provocative.
Cordial however kindly cocky.
How is that last one even possible outside of T.V.?!
Breve waggles her dark brows at us, playfully spins off to check on another table, and allows my date to clue me in on what to expect during our outing. “They’ve got a full bar, but water is the only non-alcoholic thing you can order without coffee. And they do desserts,” his finger lightly taps the tiny selection, “but like their specials and their password, they changedaily.”
There’s no stopping my eyebrows from shooting upward. “Intense.”
