I let out a small yelp. Evie had scared the living daylights out of me. Swallowing hard, I tried to talk but nothing came out.
“I think I’ll have the surf and turf. Can I also get a Caesar salad?”
Evie wrote down Jonathon’s order. When had he even picked out his meal?
“Waylynn?”
I picked up the menu and scanned it. “I’ll have the um…toasted pecan crusted chicken.”
“Ohh! That’s one of my favorites!” Evie added. “I’ll bring some warm bread with the salads.”
My cheeks still felt hot from our little escapade. How was it this man could make me so weak I would let him get me off at a damn restaurant?
“That wasn’t appropriate, Jonathon Turner.”
He chuckled slightly. “Were you thinking of how Miss Manners would handle a situation like that when your legs were spreading, Waylynn Parker?”
I shot him the finger quickly. “It was a moment of weakness.” Rubbing my temples, I tried to erase the headache that was slowly building. “I agreed to have dinner with you to talk about a possible future, not for you to…you know.”
“No, tell me, Waylynn. I want to hear it from that pretty mouth of yours.”
Dropping my shoulders, I stared. “Can we be serious now? Yes, that was fun, really fun, but please can we talk.”
Jonathon reached for my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Yes. I’m sorry I let things get out of control.” He leaned back in the chair, motioning for me to start.
I knew he wasn’t really sorry, and neither was I.
I dragged in a deep breath, and slowly let it out.
Here we go…
Chapter Eight
Jonathon
I waited for Waylynn to start talking. She sat there wringing her hands as she looked everywhere but at me. At the rate she was going, our dinner would be out before she even said a word.
“Tell me why the idea of us scares you so much.”
Her eyes shot over to me. After a few seconds of gnawing her lip, she spoke. “When I moved back home, rumors started circulating about my failed marriage. I’ve never given much thought to what people said about me before, but that was in New York where I could pass a person every second and probably never see them again. Here, at home, I see these people all the time. I’m fixin’ to start a business where peoples’ kids will come to me to learn to dance. I just don’t want to be known as the washed-up dancer who is dating…”
“A construction worker?”
Her eyes widened. “You’re not a construction worker. You own your own business. And even if you were, that doesn’t matter to me.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “Then what matters?”
Her eyes landed on my chest, and she slowly ran her tongue over her bottom lip. I couldn’t believe her stupid-ass ex had let her go. His loss was my gain.
“Your age.”
“I don’t care about it. My family doesn’t care either.”
“Well, I’m not sure how mine will feel.”
Leaning forward again, I placed my finger on her chin and brought her gaze to mine. “Do they want you to be happy?”
“Of course they do.”
“Do you think you could be happy with me, Waylynn?”
Her teeth sank into her lip again, turning it white. Fuck, that is hot as hell.
“Do you?” I asked again.
“Yes.”
“Then who gives a shit about what other people think? Let me love you like you deserve to be loved. Give me a chance to prove that we can make this work.”
A wide smile spread over her face. Leaning closer, I brushed my lips across hers. It hurt like hell with the busted lip Cord had given me, but my girl was kissing me back. In public. I wasn’t about to stop.
When I dropped her chin and sat back, her eyes were ablaze. “I give you until tomorrow morning before one of my brothers hear about this.”
“It doesn’t matter, because now that I’ve got you, I’m not letting you go, Parker.”
The brilliance of her grin made my heart soar. “Please, don’t,” she whispered.
I needed to tell her about Cord. The longer I put it off, the worse it would be.
Evie walked up with our salads.
Draping the napkin over my lap, I thanked my sister for the salad and casually dropped the bomb.
“Besides, after the beating Cord gave me when I told him about us, I can’t let you go ’cuz I promised him I’d never hurt you.”
From the corner of my eye I saw her fork freeze at her lips. I was fixin’ to feel the wrath of one pissed-off Parker woman, and I thought I was mentally prepared.
Boy, was I wrong.
* * *
I unlocked the door and watched Waylynn march through it. She threw her purse onto the table and faced me. Her hands went to her hips and her blue eyes locked on me with intense fire.