Page 259 of A Matter of Time

“C’mere. I wanna talk to you.”

But there was no way I could walk away from Sam Kage, even if I wanted to, even if I was trying to prove a point. There was just no way.

“Not a chance, man,” Sam said to the guy, his voice deep, menacing.

I sighed and looked back at Sam. “What do you want?”

“I told you—I want to talk to you outside.”

The way he was looking at me, how dark his eyes were… He would not take no for an answer. We’d stand there all night if I argued with him. “Fine.”

I followed him through the crowd, moving slowly until we made it to the front door.

Outside, I stood in front of him and waited.

“Let’s go eat. I know you’re starving.”

“I’m not⁠—”

“J, you drank your dinner. Lemme feed you.”

I just stared at him.

“C’mon. I promise to lay off.”

I continued to study his face for a second, then nodded before suggesting we try the diner around the corner. He gave me a lopsided grin and started walking. It was nice when he started talking about nothing, making conversation about the last movie he’d seen, how he’d spent last Saturday cleaning his mother’s rain gutters, and about a case at work where a guy had shot his best friend in the foot over a golf club.

“I am continually surprised by the things people do,” I told him.

“You and me both,” he agreed, holding open the door for me so I could step inside the family-run diner where pot roast was the special of the day.

Dinner was really nice. We laughed and talked, and he kept our conversation light. When I was having a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows for dessert and he was having a slice of key lime pie and coffee, he caught me staring.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“C’mon, J,” he said softly, coaxing, leaning close to me, his knee bumping against mine under the table, his arm behind my head, draped over the back of the booth. “Tell me.”

I shrugged. “It’s just you. You look exactly the same. You haven’t changed at all.”

“I’ve changed a lot,” he assured me. “I promise you.”

I didn’t want to delve. It sounded like a dangerous topic of conversation.

As we walked back toward the club, he asked me if he could drive me home.

“It’s probably not a real good idea.”

“Why not?” he asked as we reached his huge SUV.

“I thought we were having dinner tomorrow and⁠—”

“I don’t wanna have dinner again,” he told me. “I want you to⁠—”

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna push?”

“Fuck this,” he growled at me. “I’m done with you saying no.”