“Thanks,” she said shyly. Just in case tonight was the night he took things further; she was wearing her sexy new bra and panties and she’d shaved her pussy. The bruising had pretty much faded from her thigh, at least to the point she could just tell him she’d knocked into something. That part had been hard, making sure she didn’t pinch herself. But she’d done it. Because she knew that was one conversation she definitely wasn’t ready to have.
He wiped his thumb under her lower lip. “Smudged your make-up.”
“I don’t care.”
Crinkles appeared around his smiling eyes. She sighed dreamily.
Okay, Daisy. Get yourself together.
“Get your jacket, baby. It’s cold out,” he bossed. “You got another cardigan or sweater or something to go over that top?”
“You don’t like this top?” she asked.
“I fucking love this top.” He ran his finger over her bared shoulder. “But I don’t want you getting cold.”
“You can keep me warm,” she surprised herself by saying.
“I can. Other people in the restaurant might not like when I pull you onto my lap to cuddle you, though.”
She grinned. “Maybe not. I’ll be all right, though. I’m warm enough.”
He frowned slightly. “Go get another top.”
She sighed. Made certain it was long and loud. “You are entirely too bossy.” But she turned to climb the stairs, jumping with a yelp as he slammed his hand on her ass.
“Hey, what was that for?”
“That sigh. It was very bratty. Bratty behavior gets an immediate response.”
“Still haven’t made my mind up about that,” she grumbled as she made her way upstairs.
“Yes, you have,” he called back, sounding almost cheerful.
The ass.
But she couldn’t deny the delicious thrill that ran through her and as soon as she was out of sight, she cupped her ass cheek. Wow.
* * *
She looked down at the menu. He’d brought her to a steakhouse. A nice one. Not some sleazy bar like Moany Mike, who it seemed hadn’t got the memo that she wasn’t interested in him. He’d tried to contact her twice through the dating app. She’d finally taken herself off the site, deleting her profile. She didn’t need it anymore and she didn’t want Jed finding out that he was still trying to contact her. Last thing she wanted was Mike turning up dead in a ditch and Jed to end up doing life behind bars. She was way too chicken-shit to visit a prison.
“What do you feel like eating, baby?” Jed asked her.
Hmm, that was a good question. “Lasagna sounds good.”
“Hi, what can I get you?” the waitress asked cheerfully, her gaze studying Jed hungrily.
She guessed she couldn’t blame the other woman. Jed was gorgeous.
“Hey, I’ll have a steak, medium rare. No sauce. Baked potato with the works. She’ll have the lasagna and we’ll both have salad on the side. Thanks.”
She gaped at him as the waitress collected their menus. “I can order for myself.”
“Yep,” he agreed amicably. “But we both know you wouldn’t have bothered ordering any salad if you had.”
“I didn’t want salad,” she said with a pout.
He reached over and tapped his finger against her lower lip. “What happens to girls who pout?”