Page 35 of The Alpha's Protective Mate

It even feels like one.

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I didn’t choose a restaurant per se.

It’s an open-air BBQ eatery near the edge of the woods. The place is decked out with bright fairy lights, mismatched but comfortable, colorful chairs, and several barbecue pits around which the chairs are gathered.

“What is this place?” Robert looks delighted.

“It’s a DIY barbecue spot,” I tell him, enjoying the stunned look on his face. “I found it online. We buy the marinated meat from over there.”

I point to a long stall that has stacks and stacks of iceboxes.

“They have all kinds of meat, and then we barbecue it ourselves. Everything is self-serve except for drinks. A couple of college students started this venture, and it’s slowly taking off. The reviews are very good.”

I walk over to the long stall that has the iceboxes. “It’s no three-star restaurant, but this seemed more interesting.”

Robert tucks his hands in his pockets and looks around, intrigued. “It is. I love a good barbecue.”

The marinated meat area really does have everything, from seafood to chicken to lamb and beef cuts. Robert and I select quite a few items, and when I see him reaching for his wallet, I instinctively slap his hand away. His eyes widen, and I snap, “Not so fast. I know what you’re doing. I’m paying.”

He puts on a rueful expression. “It doesn’t seem right to let a lady pay.”

“Oh, and it’s okay to scam me into dinner dates, then?” I raise a brow at him, not at all buying his little act.

“Fine.” The Alpha raises his hands, palms out, in defeat. “You can pay. But I pay for the alcohol. What will you have?”

“I don’t think we should dri—”

The man behind the counter is already handing Robert a laminated menu. “Somebody will be right with you to start up your pit, and they’ll bring you your food.”

“I really don’t think I should be drinking, Rob—”

However, my concerns are ignored as Robert nudges me over to one of the pits. He doesn’t really listen to me as one of the servers starts pointing things out on the menu. “We have these beers on tap and several different kinds of cocktails.”

I don’t usually drink alcohol. I tend to get drunk easily. The last time I drank, it was at a bar, and I passed out after three or four beers.

“I’ll have a Long Island iced tea,” I say quickly, peeking at the menu and knowing if I don’t speak up, Robert will saddle me with something that is bound to knock my socks off.

Robert gives me a strange look. “You sure?”

“Yes,” I nod firmly. “I’m not going to have any alcohol. Tea works for me.”

“But a Long Island is—”

“Just order what you want,” I interrupt him. “I’ve already decided.”

He presses his lips together as if to suppress a smile and points to something on the menu. “I’ll have one of these beers.”

“Should I bring you your drinks now?” the server asks politely.

Robert glances at me quizzically, and I nod.

Once the server leaves, Robert leans back in his chair, grinning. “So, I take it you’ve never worked in a bar before.”

“What kind of question is that?”

He shrugs, snickering to himself. “I also bet you don’t have a habit of going out to bars.”

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