Page 30 of Lucky Haven

It seems to have gone offline.

He gives me a grin that says he likes my reaction. “Go back to work. I’ll come by at closing and then I’m taking you to The Friendly Table for dinner. It’s time we’re officially seen in public together.”

Chapter Nine

Cash

Collecting Haven from the library, taking her hand in mine, and walking into The Friendly Table is a surreal sequence of events.

Doesn’t mean I don’t like it.

Even if it’s just fake to her, I like being her boyfriend. I feel ten feet tall as I help her into a booth against the window.

She pulls a little notebook from her purse and sets it on the Formica tabletop between us. “People are looking.”

Story of my life. And I hate that it’s the story hers, now, too, but we can make it better.

“That’s the whole point.” I sprawl across from her, her complete opposite in every way. Hopefully people look at us and see her as the ray of lovely sunshine that she is in comparison to my tattooed, bearded, muscled roughness. “Don’t pay attention to them. Look at me.”

She lifts her chin, her eyes turning bright as a faint flush slashes across her cheekbones. I like that, too. So fucking much, it could be dangerous. But I won’t let that danger touch her. I’m going to take good care of her for as long as she’s mine.

“That’s my girl,” I murmur. “You’re doing great. Tell me about your day.”

That surprises her enough that she actually relaxes, just slightly, her shoulders dropping half an inch. “My day?”

“Mm-hmm. Like you’d tell a boyfriend.”

That makes her squirm, but it makes her smile, too. I’m reminded of her drunken confession that she’s a virgin. Don’t think about how much or how little she’s dated before.

“I can’t remember what I did today. I was pretty distracted.” She toys with the notebook again.

“What’s that?”

“I made some notes for us to discuss.” She lowers her voice. “Maybe later, though.”

I smile. “Okay. What are you going to get for dinner?”

“I’m not sure I can eat, I’m so nervous.”

I nudge her foot under table. She jumps. I smile, and she laughs. “That’s better. I’m starving, so get whatever you want, and I’ll finish it if you don’t.”

“What if I order something you don’t like?” Her brows pull tight.

“Why are you worried about that?” I shake my head. “You don’t need to worry about me, Haven.”

“Easier said than done.”

I shift myself forward, so I’m leaning across the table. So it’s easier for her to share secrets with me. I want to reassure her, whatever her concerns are. “Why is that?”

“Because you keep threatening to kill people,” she whispers.

I laugh. “Sure. They’re assholes. I hope they feel that energy and piss themselves in fear.”

Her eyes flare, shocked. But deep in their pretty hazel depths, I see a burst of pleasure. I wonder if she knows how much I can see there, how obvious it is that she wants there to be consequences for cruelty.

Me too, Haven. Me. Too.

“I think we have that in common,” I point out. “You would just use different words.”