Vanessa giggled like a little girl once the waiter disappeared. “Did it sound like I was protesting too much?”
“Only a little,” I told her and held both hands out about two feet apart.
“Damn. Oh well.” She bit into a strip of bacon and moaned so deep I had to look away and squirm in the booth seat. “So good. Anyway you didn’t offend me.”
Conversation with Vanessa was unpredictable and it kept me on my toes. And completely off-kilter. “I didn’t? Because you bolted from the car pretty fast. Like I offended you.”
She flashed a sweet, slightly embarrassed smile. “Your words sent my mind racing in a few different directions and those thoughts made me feel…guilty. Disloyal.” She sighed as if struggling to figure out what she wanted to say so I sat back and ate, letting her gather her thoughts.
“Grief is a tricky thing, and sometimes it makes me crazy. On the one hand, I want to move on and live life because that’s what I should do. On the other hand, the guilt for wanting to move on with my life is unbearable.”
When Vanessa spoke, so open and honest with her heart on her sleeve, I felt like I could really fall for this woman. But like she said, grief was a tricky thing. “I know what you mean.”
“You do?”
I nodded and reached for a sausage link just to give myself time. “I lost more people than I would have liked in the Army. It fucks with me. Nonstop. Sometimes I’ll hear a song that one of my guys used to sing and it’ll level me for an entire fucking day. And then I feel guilty when I realize that I hadn’t thought about him for weeks, maybe months. Like I should have thought about him more.”
“Exactly,” she sighed, flashing a bright smile that lit up her blue eyes like gems. “It’s nice to talk to someone who understands.”
“And doesn’t just want you to hurry up and stop being sad?”
She nodded. “Yep.”
“Easier said than done,” I told her with a laugh. “It’s probably why I’m always such a grouchy bastard.”
“You? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you grouchy.” She laughed at the thought, and I kind of liked the idea that she saw me differently. It gave me hope that maybe she would look at me differently.
“Maybe you take away all my grouchiness.”
Vanessa nibbled her bottom lip, drawing attention to how plump it was especially now that her pink lipstick had started to fade. “Maybe I like having that superpower.”
“Maybe you should.”
Yeah, this was definitely flirting. I had that tingling in my arms that you got when you were vibing with a beautiful woman, and my heart raced in anticipation of her next smile. Her next laugh.
“And maybe you should prove that you can eat as much as you said you could.”
Her blue eyes narrowed at the challenge and her lips pulled into a playful grin. “Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head, Emmett. I’m gonna eat so much you’ll have to roll me out to your car.”
“I can always use another workout,” I told her with a shrug and grabbed a slice of bacon from the plate that sat between us. “Eat up, then.”
“You’ve been warned,” she said and proceeded to eat her weight in breakfast food but rather than being turned off, I was so damn turned on looking at her lips, slick from the greasy food and listening to the erotic moans she made with every nibble. Every bite. Vanessa put away a lot of food, but still left plenty uneaten. “Impressed?”
I looked down at the huge dent we’d made in the food and nodded. “Beyond impressed, actually. And a little upset I don’t get to roll you back to the car.”
When my fingers twitched at the thought of putting my hands on Vanessa’s perfect ass, I knew it was time to go. Her car had probably been fixed for more than an hour by now, and here I was, torturing myself.
She blinked, long lashes fluttering prettily, and for just a moment, I saw a flash of heat in her eyes. I would have loved to take her up on that promise in her eyes, but she wasn’t ready. “Maybe another time?”
“Sure. Ready to get home?”
She nodded. “Your company has been amazing, but I think I have about fifteen minutes before a food coma sets in.”
I put enough cash on the table to cover the bill and the tip, but Vanessa wouldn’t have it. “I’ll leave the tip,” she insisted.
I wasn’t put off by her tone, just the opposite.
“Cool. Tomorrow when the guys give me a hard time, I’ll tell them a beautiful woman bought me dinner.”
“You won’t,” she said, so sure she knew me.
“I might,” I insisted, my hand on the small of her back as we left the diner. I kept my head on a swivel, searching for danger in every dark corner, behind every barrier.