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“How old are you?” I demanded.

“Forty-three.”

I blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. Why? Do I look younger?” he teased.

My cheeks heated.

He chuckled. “I’m yanking your chain. I know how I look.”

“How do you look?”

Slash gestured to the scar marring his brow and a good portion of his face.

“I forget about that, actually. It’s the—ah—salt-and-pepper hair and the wrinkles at the corners of your eyes that make you seem…old…der. Older,” I stuttered. “Shit, sorry.”

He laughed.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re really hot.”

“I know that. You slept with me, remember? And you were stone-cold sober. So you can’t use liquor as an excuse.”

“I had a head injury.”

“Minor. Not even a concussion. You can’t take it back now.”

I sighed in mock remorse. “I hope our child has your eyes, but none of your arrogance.”

“You like my eyes?” he asked, his expression softening.

“I—”

“Here we go,” our sever said. “One Nutella and banana crepe and one goat cheese, egg and spinach crepe.”

She set the crepes down in the center of the table, along with two share plates. “Coffee refill?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Slash said.

The waitress smiled and her cheeks popped with dimples. “I’ll be right back with that for you.” She sauntered away, putting a little sway into her hips.

I looked at the savory crepe, my mouth watering. “Oh, shit.”

“What? Are you okay?” Slash asked immediately.

“I just realized…I can’t eat this.” I pointed to the crepe with goat cheese. “It’s soft cheese. I didn’t even—I forgot completely.” I suddenly burst into tears, grabbing a napkin to shove at my face.

“Is something wrong?” the waitress asked as she approached our table.

I peeked out from my napkin, prepared to answer her, when Slash spoke up. “Can we get another spinach and egg crepe, but instead of goat cheese—” He looked to me for clarification.

“Cheddar, please.” I sniffed.

“Sure thing.” She looked confused. “Do you want me to take that other crepe back?”

“Nah.” He glanced at her name tag. “Thanks, Denise.”

“No problem.” She peered at me one final time and left.


Tags: Emma Slate Blue Angels Motorcycle Club Romance