On those lips.
A few minutes pass before he speaks. “How long have you been at that place?”
“Not long. A couple of weeks.”
His lips tighten and I get the feeling he has strong opinions about my place of work.
Why that sends a feverish shiver through me, I ignore when he opens another box and passes me a can of the same soda I was drinking in the break room.
A warm feeling goes through me at the idea that he made a note of it.
He cracks open a beer and takes a long swig before we eat in silence.
He finishes in record time, sets his plate aside then blatantly fixes his gaze on me.
“Your voice is fucking incredible. Why the hell are you wasting it on that place?”
Yup, he’s definitely pissed about where I work. And he doesn’t seem in the mood to let it go.
I try not to let it go to my head and scramble for an appropriate answer.
“It’s…I needed something quick and temporary. And I don’t really have a lot of experience.”
“Quick and temporary?” he echoes, his eyes boring into mine.
I struggle not to fidget, and nod. “I’m not really staying in California for long.”
“Why not?” he shoots back.
I drop my gaze and sip my soda to buy me a little time. “I’m taking a…road trip.”
His fingers tighten around his beer, and his nostrils flare. Whatever control he’s exercising is in serious danger of fracturing. “A road trip? On your own?”
I raise my gaze and try to stare him down. “What’s wrong with that? Lots of people do it every day of the week.”
“Lots of people don’t look like you, angel,” he growls. “Lots of peoplewill take one look at you and get the wrong fucking idea. Then where the fuck will you be?”
“I can take care of myself.”
He growls under his breath again, drains his beer and tosses the bottle into the box.
For a full minute he stares out to sea, his jaw clenched tight, then glances down at my plate. “Eat up,” he says in a slightly calmer voice.
I take a few more mouthfuls, struggling to fill the silence that follows. “This is really good.”
The tiniest smile cracked his stern lips. “It’s hardly gourmet.”
“Maybe not to you. It’s the best meal I’ve had in a while,” I say, then immediately bite the inside of my lip.Shit.
Of course, he pounces on it. “Yeah? How come?”
I shrug. “You saw where I work. It’s not exactly a Vegas residency.”
His nostrils flare and displeasure flashes through his eyes before he forcibly blanks his expression. “A Vegas residency is the very least you deserve with a voice like yours.”
Something kicks hard inside me with pleasure again.
God, I’m hopeless.