Page 103 of Love Me Tomorrow

Ever since those days of me working as a busboy at Rose’s, I’ve made it a point to steer clear of any and all ERRG establishments. While I didn’t do anything wrong to the old man, I don’t believe in fueling the fires out of pettiness.

Edgar Rose fucked up. Whether he owns that mistake or not is not my problem.

Then again, seeing Savannah’s contagious pride as we wait to be seated makes up for any lingering unease worming its way into my conscience.

“You are going tolovethe blackened redfish,” Savannah gushes as the hostess spots us, her eyes popping wide when she takes note of our intertwined fingers. “I know everyone in the city is always claiming how they do it better, but really”—a wide, confident grin tilts her full lips—“no one does it better than us. Once you get a taste of the hollandaise sauce we use, it’s game over. I promise.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, I tug her close so I can rest my chin on the top of her head. Tonight is bigger than me trying out orgasmic grilled fish—Gage and Lizzie should be here any minute, which means I’m gonna be spilling my guts before the end of the evening, and hopefully not doing so literally.

As if sensing my nervousness, Savannah turns in my arms and lays a gentle hand on my chest. “He’s your brother,” she tells me, low enough so that others won’t overhear, “which means he’s going to love you no matter what.”

I scrub a hand over my mouth to hide my grimace. “I’m more worried about him being pissed that I’ve kept it from him all these years.”

Her smile is a little lopsided, a whole lot imperfect.Perfect to me, though. “If that happens, we’ll just shackle him to the closest chair, so he’s forced to listen to you. He’s a cop—don’t they have handcuffs on them at all times?”

A strangled laugh climbs my throat. “Diabolical. I like it.”

She pats my chest, then lingers like she doesn’t want to step away. “I’ve had a good teacher.”

Yeah, she has.

And I’m just getting started.

Before I have the chance to pull her in for a kiss that may or may not raise some eyebrows, the heavy cypress-wood doors swing open and Gage and Lizzie stroll in. Immediately, their attention drifts our way and happy grins light their faces.

“Look at you, man,” Gage greets, kissing Savannah on the cheek before slapping me on the back. I’m not sure when he started looking at Savannah as something other than the she-devil who ripped my heart out, but I’ve got a feeling I have my sister-in-law to thank for easing those waters. That, and Savannah showing up at Inked on the day we were swamped. My brother has always valued people who put others before themselves. “Wearing a suit?” he tacks on now, looking me up and down with an arched brow. “Has hell frozen over?”

I fake a punch to his gut. “What, no baseball hat?” I ask, pointing to his head. “You been kicked out of heaven or something?” I lean down to hug Lizzie hello, but she’s laughing too hard to return it properly.

Seeing that our entire party has arrived, the hostess comes over to us. Immediately, Savannah turns to her with a hug. “Hey, Chloe,” she says, and the hostess must not be expecting Savannah to know her by name, because she blinks so many times in a row, I start to worry she might have a sty. “Thanks for fitting us in at the last moment. I really appreciate it.”

Chloe clasps the leather-bound menus to her chest. “Oh, my God! It’s no problem. We didn’t—I mean, it was a pleasure to find y’all a table, Miss Rose.”

“Savannah,” Savannah corrects gently with an encouraging smile. “Any chance Dufrene is in the kitchen tonight?”

Head nodding vigorously, Chloe stammers, “Yes! I mean, he is. I’ll let him know you asked for him.”

Clearly wanting to settle the girl’s nerves, Savannah places a hand on her arm. “No rush. I just wanted him to meet my friends.”

“Sure! I can definitely do that.”

A jittery Chloe motions for us to follow her, subsequently giving me my first real look at ERRG’s flagship restaurant. From what I’ve heard, this place is over a century old and, by looks alone, I’d say that’s a very astute assessment. Unlike the quirkiness of Rose’s, with its Caribbean flare and bench-style tables, Rose & Thorn is on another league.

Chandeliers hang from the ceiling, interspersed throughout the room for a romantic ambiance. Round tables are adorned with crisp tablecloths. All the chairs are high-backed with a natural glossiness that tells me they’re stained, and stained often, to keep them looking pristine. Not to be outdone by the décor, the servers are decked out in tailored, dark suits with bow ties pinned to their collars.

It’s Old World New Orleans in every single way.

And when we take a seat, it’s with four servers coming to the table to hold our chairs out for us. I meet Gage’s gaze across from where I’m standing, the both of us feeling a little weirded out by the antiquated pony show, but Savannah sits with a hushed thank you—by name, again—to the server assisting her, and Lizzie looks like she’s entered a magical realm where makeup is free and unicorns exist.

I motion to the server behind me, indicating that I’ve got it, and then seat myself.

Savannah picks up the folded linen off her plate and settles it on her lap. Her elbows, I note, she keeps off the table by resting her wrists on the lip. Prim. Proper. I’ll give her dinnertime to put on all those ingrained debutante airs of hers, and then I’m gonna strip her naked when we get back to Barataria and remind her that she’s a whole lot happier when I’m making her dirtiest fantasies a reality.

“Have y’all ever dined here before?” she asks my twin and sister-in-law.

Reaching for the short glass of water off the table, Lizzie takes a sip. “Never, but I’ve wanted to try the food for ages. I’ve heard the blackened redfish is to die for.”

Practically bouncing in her seat, Savannah shoots an enthusiastic glance my way. “It’s my favorite thing on the menu. But, honestly, you can’t go wrong. The Rockefeller oysters? Delicious. The crawfish-stuffed fried shrimp? Mouth-wateringly good. And don’t even get me started on the boudin balls—they come with this jalapeño-cheddar stuffing that I would eat every single day if I could.”

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