Chapter Eleven
Within twenty minutes, they sat at a booth across from each other.He watched her fidget with her silverware, her eyes unable to look at him.He reached over the table and twined his fingers with hers.
“Hey, look at me.”He waited for her focus to be on him.“There is no reason to be nervous.”
She continued to squirm, and her lips quivered.
“Pretend Lucky is with us.”
Her brows snapped together in confusion.“Why?”
His thumbs ran over the back of her fingers as he studied her features.She was so damn pretty.Jennifer again tried to put her hair up after he loosened the braid to keep it away from her face, but like every other time, locks of merlot-colored hair pulled loose and flowed down her back in wild disarray.Her hands weren’t silky smooth and pampered like a high society woman would be, but they had a few calluses and a tinge of redness from all her work.His gaze swept over her.He’d bet she had never had a manicure in her life.
He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of looking at her.Grant smiled gently.
“Because you relax when you have an animal around you, or you’re talking about one, but the minute it’s just you and me, you get all tense.”
Jennifer studied him.Her gaze roamed over his strong, masculine features.She released a breath at the gentleness and understanding in his gaze, and her hand tightened on his.
He knew getting her used to him would take time and patience.He was willing to wait if it meant she ended up with him.He pulled his eyes from her to the male waiter at their table.He tried to bite back a growl when the waiter’s gaze stayed locked on Jennifer.Grant released Jennifer’s hands, sat back in his chair, and cleared his throat to get the guy’s attention.
A red flush spread across the young man’s face.
“Um, sorry, sir.What can I get you?”His gaze trailed back to Jennifer.
Grant tried to swallow back the hot rush of anger, but he could not prevent the livid tick in his jawline.
“The first thing you can do is stop staring at my woman,” he barked.
The waiter jerked and then noticeably swallowed as a deep blush chased across his face.“Of course, sir.I’m sorry.”The young man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously.
After the waiter left with their orders, they sat and silently gazed at one another before Grant reached across the table and picked up her hands again.He ran his thumbs over the backs of them.
Jennifer stared at his massive hands that held her so gently.He knew his hands were rougher and had more calluses for a white-collar millionaire.
“Why’d you get mad at the waiter?”
Grant’s eyes moved up.“I didn’t like the way he stared at you.”
Jennifer shook her head and frowned.“He wasn’t star—”
Grant nodded his head toward the rest of the restaurant.“Yes, he was.I can’t believe you didn’t notice him or the others who look at you.”
