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“How you feelin’?” Beethoven asked, squeezing my thigh as we cruised down the street. “You still down?”
“Mhm.” With a nod, I looked over at him and smiled. This man was sexy as hell. I still couldn’t believe he was my man—whether it was by arrangement or not. After all these years of avoiding men who were in the streets, I’d gotten with one of the heaviest hitters of all. “You?”
“I get to have you as my wife. Of course I’m still down.”
Every time he said stuff like that, it made me feel all warm and mushy inside. Forget butterflies—this man gave me fireflies that lit me up and made it hard for me to stay in my darkness.
I wasn’t sure of our destination. I was perfectly content being a passenger princess. When we arrived at the new supper club off Main that I’d mentioned wanting to go to, excitement bubbled up within me.
“You listen,” I cooed.
“Listening is what makes a great lover. I’ll always listen to you.”
Light laughter escaped me as I unbuckled my seat belt. “I didn’t think a man like you could be a gentleman or intentional lover, and I especially didn’t think you’d soften when handling a woman. I’m glad I was wrong.”
“Ain’t no reason for me to be hard toward you, and I won’t allow you to be that way with me. Stay soft and feminine for me. That’s what attracted me to you.”
Looking out of the window, I released a content sigh. He got out and walked over to my side of the car. When I was out, he pressed me against it as he asked, “Have I told you today that you look absolutely beautiful?”
I’d dressed for him. His favorite color was olive green, so I put on an olive-green dress that accentuated every one of my curves.
“Yes, but I won’t stop you if you tell me again.”
He gave me one of his signature sexy smiles. “You look so beautiful, bae. I can’t keep my eyes off you.”
“Damn, Bay. This you?”
At the sound of a man’s voice, Beethoven turned. He stayed in front of me, shielding me from whoever it was. Once he saw them, his body relaxed, and he stepped next to me.
“Yeah, she is.” He took my hand into his. “Isn’t she beautiful?” The man whistled as he looked me over with a nod. “Aight, don’t look too fuckin’ hard.”
The man chuckled as they shook hands. “My fault, cuz. She is beautiful though.”
“Thank you,” I replied, wrapping my arm around Beethoven’s.
They made small talk for a minute or two. I tried to walk away, but he held me close. When they were done, we headed across the parking lot toward the entry. Beethoven had made us a reservation, thankfully, because it was packed. The green, black, and gold décor combined with the dark lighting was beautiful. Jazz music played in the background. We were here just in time to hear the live band that was getting set up on the stage.
The hostess led us to a table that was in the corner by the exit door but still close to the stage. Before our waitress even arrived, two drinks were delivered by the bartender.
“I hope it’s cool that I ordered for us when I made the reservation,” Beethoven said.
“That depends on how well you ordered.”
He gave me a cocky grin. “I think I did pretty well. I got us peach cobbler martinis to start. It has Crown Royal peach in it. Give it a try.”
Lifting the pretty drink to my lips, I took a small sip. My eyes closed and I smiled as I savored the sweet and slightly spicy drink. “Mm… you did a really great job, baby. This is good.”
Whisky was both our liquor of choice, so it didn’t surprise me that he’d gone with a drink that had that as a base, but I was surprised he got something that was this sweet. It did a great job masking the task of alcohol, which meant this was a drink that would need to be sipped and not guzzled.
“Whew.” Him wiping his forehead of invisible sweat as he relaxed in his seat made me laugh. “I was confident you’d like it, but I was a little worried too.”
“If this is how you’re starting out, I think you’re going to do just fine.”
He’d selected fried green tomatoes for the appetizer along with sauteed shrimp that had the same sauce that was drizzled on the fried green tomatoes on the side. I was just as pleased with those.
While we waited on our entrees, we picked up on our conversation from earlier when Beethoven said, “I know this isn’t for forever, but I meant it earlier when I said I wanted to know what you want and need from me. How I can keep you happy and make sure you feel loved.”
“May I ask why you care about my happiness? These days, people are not partnership-minded at all. They don’t want any responsibility in a romantic relationship, and everyone is out for self. The men I’ve dated in the past have made it clear my happiness is my responsibility. Why is that different with you?”
