Page 253 of Devil’s Disciples

“I was an enlisted Marine,” he barked. “I’m not a Sir.”

“Geeeooorge,” Abby said. “Be nice.”

He looked me over as if we were preparing to fight. He cocked his head to the side. “This is as nice as I’m going to get,” he responded, directing his comment to Abby, but keeping his eyes locked on me.

“Sorry,” I said in an apologetic tone. “Ma’am and Sir. It’s habit.”

“The military, a Boys Ranch, or upbringing instill such habits.” He looked me dead in the eyes and shook my hand firmly. “Which is it?”

Through that handshake, he let me know what Abby meant to him. Any mistreatment of her would be dealt with harshly. As a reassurance that he had nothing to worry about, I held his gaze and returned his firm grip.

“Upbringing,” I said. “I was raised in Montana by two women. My mother and my grandmother. If I wasn’t polite, I got my ear twisted in a knot.”

He released my hand. “Damned fine country, Montana. Been fishing there a few times.”

I grinned. “I grew up on a hundred and sixty acres. We had four ponds and a stream that ran through it. I’ve pulled many meals out of those ponds.”

He pursed his lips and shook his head lightly. “A fresh stream trout on the grill is about as good as it gets.”

I nodded. “I’ll agree to that.”

George sat across from Abby and gestured toward the seat next to her. As directed, I took a seat at her side.

He lowered his chin and looked Abby over. “You look tired.”

“I am. We were up all night,” she said. “Talking.”

His eyes shot to me. One eyebrow raised. “Talking?”

“We talked,” I said with a nod.

It was true. We had talked. While we were having sex.

His brows knitted together. That look of disbelief remained locked on me for a moment, and then he shifted his gaze to Abby. “Talking?”

Abby rested her forearms on the table’s edge and returned George’s glare. Locked eye-to-eye, they stared at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time. Then, Abby drew a long breath through her nose and leaned against the back of the booth.

She crossed her arms and exhaled through her teeth. “I’m not going to do this with you, George. I’m thirty years old. You are well aware of how many men have tried to take me on a date in the last six years. Of those, how many have I gone out with?”

He stared.

“How many?” she demanded.

“None,” he said. “That I know of.”

“That’s right,” she huffed. “None.”

He glanced at me and then at her. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“After six years, I’ve found someone that likes me because of me. And, it just so happens that he’s honest, genuine, funny, and has a big heart.” She said, her voice laced with attitude. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to get us a few menus, I’d like to eat. I’m so hungry I feel like I might pass out.”

“Up all-night talking made you hungry?” He shifted his eyes to meet mine. “While you were talking, did you wear protection?”

“Yes, Sir. I did,” I responded. “Always.”

His jaw tightened. His muscles tensed. I prepared to block the punch I was sure he would throw.

Instead, he gave a sharp nod. “Let me get a few menus.”