Page 11 of The Bad Boy's Good Girl

Chapter 4

By the end of the week, Nola felt like her old self. The sickness had only lasted a couple of days, along with her grumpy mood. Her only hope was that she’d passed it on to Gabriela except she was feeling better and unable to bring herself to be so petty. Besides, it was Friday and she planned to treat herself to a big fatty soul food meal to make up for all the food she couldn’t eat this week. She planned to enjoy her weekend because she would be glued at the hip with Bronx for seven whole days. Longer if the meeting went well.

“I see you’re in a much better mood since I last saw you.”

She startled at the deep, velvety voice of the man she’d been avoiding for days, emailing instead of hearing his voice or, god forbid, seeing his ruggedly handsome face. “You could say that.” She felt entirely too good to let him rile her up so she took a deep breath, let it out and turned to him. She shouldn’t have because that lazy, confident smile made her belly flip. “Did you need something, Bronx?”

His eyes told her just how he wanted to answer that question as they slid down to her mouth, then her cleavage and back to her eyes with a bedroom smile. “Have dinner with me.”

“Sorry, I have plans,” she answered, quickly. Probably too quickly but she had plans and she was looking forward to them. Alone, since Max had a full sleeve tattoo that would last well into the evening.

“Change them,” he shot back, voice calm and sure that she would obey him. He leaned over, palms flat on her desk so his strong, tattooed arms were on display for her perusal. Making her mouth water, her core tightened at the memory of just how thoroughly she devoured those tattoos.

“Sorry. Can’t.” Why she resisted so hard, Nola couldn’t really say other than the fact the man was entirely too tempting. He was hell on her sanity, her willpower and her ability to think clearly and make smart decisions as evidenced by their Halloween night romp. She packed away all the things she would need for the trip back east, her company issued laptop, tablet and phone, plus folders filled with phone numbers, contracts, and emails. And the company credit card, she reminded herself as she dropped it in her purse. “See you Monday. I’ll meet you at the airport.”

“No need. I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock,” he said in that tone that brooked no argument.

Damn bossy, insufferable man.With her bags packed, she gave Bronx one last look before turning on her heels and damn near running to the elevator. When the doors shut, se released a long deep breath, grateful she’d made it through another encounter with the bad boy. He was hell on her nerves and she was grateful she’d chosen to walk to work today so she could enjoy the cool late evening breeze as she walked to Soul Garden.Her mouth already watering,she knew after the meal with her belly full she would regret the few blocks she had to walk home but that was a problem for later.

Though it was Friday night, it was late for most diners so she got a table right away and picked up the menu, looking at all the mouthwatering options as her stomach growled. As soon as the young waitress stopped at her table she let her eyes do the ordering. “I’ll have the buttermilk fried chicken, Cole slaw, mac & cheese, and the fried green tomatoes to start.”

“You sure, honey?”

Nola smiled. “I was under the weather all week,” she said by way of an explanation.

“Gotcha, how about some peach tea to wash it all down?”

“Sounds good.”

“Add a rib plate to that, would you sweetheart?” Bronx slid in across from her with a wink that made the waitress blush. “And a tall lager. Ice cold.” With a stammering acknowledgement of his order she walked away on wooden legs. “So is this the kind of food responsible for those delicious curves?”

Delicious?She would not let his words move her and she would ignore the way her body responded to his presence. “Seriously, Bronx? Are you following me now?”

“Yes,” he answered simply, taking her righteous indignation right along with him.

“Why?”

“You were walking alone. Late at night, and I wanted to make sure you got home alright.” He looked so sincere she couldn’t possibly hang on to her annoyance.

As much as she wanted to. “Well, I appreciate it even though it isn’t necessary. Serendipity is the safest place I’ve ever lived.”

“Yeah, me too,” he answered vaguely, gaze so focused on her she began to squirm. “You said you had plans.”

Nola would have laughed if he didn’t look so jealous. So completely put out. Besides, she had no idea how he would respond if she continued to poke the bear. “This is part one of my plan. Dinner. My friend couldn’t make it but I’m still hungry.”

“Friend? What friend?” His shoulders relaxed and he nodded. “So you have no real objection to sharing a meal with me?”

Other than the fact that you make me stupid?“Define real,” she shot back, instead.

The waitress quietly appeared and left their drinks, beating a hasty retreat. Bronx took a long, slow pull of the deep brown liquid and she couldn’t help but watch the way the muscles in his neck moved with him. “What I mean is, do you have any objection other than the fact you’re afraid we’ll end up in bed together again?”

Damn, right to the point.She wouldn’t play some shy little virgin, not any longer. “Other than that, no.”

That panty melting smile spread slowly.Every time it grew, her belly clenched. Her throat went dry. Then he laughed and the sound was deep, hearty and so damn captivating she could only watch as the rugged edges were smoothed giving him a boyish charm instead of that sexy bad boy alpha-ness he wore like an expensive leather jacket. “Good to know.”

A comfortable silence settled between them and it left her feeling unsettled because they weren’t friends. They didn’t hang out and have comfortable silences. “So why did you want to have dinner with me?”

“I want to get to know you.” She believed him but she was no fool, there was more to it. There had to be. She watched him. Waited. “We’re going to spend a week together and I don’t want it to be awkward.”

---