Page 21 of Deadly Oath

Kian:I had a good time last night, princess. Dinner tonight? I want to see you again.

9

SABRINA

“Should we go to the diner, or the other ‘restaurant’?” Kian asks as he slides into the truck next to me. “I’m partial to the diner, because it has breakfast food all dayandnight. But the other restaurant has good steaks. Local.”

He seems like he genuinely wants to know my opinion—another thing I’m unused to in a man—so I hesitate, thinking it over. “The diner,” I say finally. “I’ve never had breakfast for dinner.”

Kian whistles through his teeth as he puts the truck into gear. “You’re in for a treat, then.”

Chrissy’s Diner is a long, brick-walled building with a shingled roof that hangs over the edge. Large windows through which I can see red-vinyl booths and laminate-topped tables, surrounding a U-shaped counter with red-topped barstools lining it. It’s very much what I would imagine a small-town diner to be, and I feel a small jolt of excitement.

Maybe I have been missing out, not exploring the town. Not going out. I bet Marie would have come here with me, if I’d asked her to. Maybe I should be trying harder, like Caldwell said.

The interior of the dinersmellslike breakfast, which makes me think that Kian is right about it being the best feature of the place. Ilook around for a hostess stand, but Kian touches the small of my back, guiding me past the entrance and to one of the booths.

“This is a ‘seat yourself’ kind of place,” Kian explains. I nod as I slip into one side of the booth, momentarily disconcerted by the way my heart started to race the moment his hand brushed against my spine. I’ve never felt anything like what Kian does to me, and I want to explore it. I want to find out what other things he could make me feel.

A pretty waitress with dark hair, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt rolled up at the elbows and tied at the waist, comes over to take our order. Kian asks for a soda and I get water, and then smile at her apologetically.

“I need just a minute more to decide. I haven’t been here before.”

The waitress rattles off a list of suggestions, and then heads off to collect our drinks. I glance over the menu, and the list of options under thebreakfastside sounds surprisingly good for seven in the evening. I feel like they might be onto something with this. When the waitress comes back, I order cinnamon pancakes and a side of maple sausage, and Kian grins approvingly before putting in his own order of loaded hash browns.

“Good girl,” he says with a grin, and my eyes widen, my cheeks suddenly feeling strangely hot. “I was worried you might try to order a salad again.”

“I’m trying new things,” I tell him defiantly, narrowing my eyes. “Expanding my horizons. Burgers. Breakfast for dinner.” I lean back in the booth, looking at him from across the laminate table. “Is there anything else you can think of that I should try that doesn’t involve food?”

Kian’s eyes instantly darken, and a smirk plays at the corners of his lips. “I can think of a few things,” he says slowly, and there’s a subtle rasp to his voice, a hint of heat that makes my cheeks burn even more.

I bite my lip, trying to summon a sense of daring. “Like what?” I manage, and that smirk deepens.

“Well, for instance—” he runs his finger around the rim of hisglass, and I feel my mouth go a little dry. There shouldn’t be anything suggestive about the gesture, but somehow, coming from him, itis. Everything he does feels suggestive, and even though I know I’m reading into it, I can’t help the way he makes me feel.

And there’s no one stopping me from exploring it, now.

“For instance,” he continues, “we could go to the Crow Bar for a drink, after this. You ever been to a bar before, princess?”

“Yes,” I say defensively. “There’s a martini bar in Chicago that I used to go to with?—”

Kian chuckles. “Not that kind of bar. Don’t worry. We’ll expand your horizons a little bit more tonight.”

The food, when it comes, is delicious. I can tell from the first bite that I’m going to have to start coming up withsomekind of workout routine on my own, if I’m going to keep eating like this. Or maybe not. I look at Kian, who is attacking his own hash browns, who has been encouraging me to enjoy the food at the places he’s taking me. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if I were a little curvier. Maybe he doesn’t expect me to stay a size zero, like the men I’m used to.

I eat my pancakes and sausage, enjoying every bite, and I see Kian’s eyes flick to my mouth as I lick a drop of syrup off of my lower lip. “How about that drink, princess?” he murmurs, and that same rasp still colors the edges of his voice.

The idea makes me feel a little nervous. I have a feeling the Crow Bar is a lot rougher than the kind of bar I’m used to going to. But I nod, reaching for my purse as Kian pays the bill.

The bar isn’t far from the diner, towards the end of the strip. “Do you want to walk over?” Kian asks as we step outside, and I nod. It’s not too cold, despite it being mid-November, and I shrug the light denim jacket that I brought with me on over the short-sleeved, rust-colored sweater that I’d thrown on before we went out tonight.

I can hear the music coming out of the Crow Bar before we even walk in, that same country-style music that Marie likes to listen to. I glance over at Kian, trying to get a measure of whether or not he’s also a fan of it, but he doesn’t seem to care one way or another. Hegives the live band on stage a cursory glance, striding towards the bar as I follow.

“What’s your drink?” he asks, and when I blanch, he smirks at me. “You don’t know?”

“I’ve had wine and champagne,” I admit. “At parties. Never anything stronger.”

Kian chuckles. “Alright. Time for you to try bourbon.” He turns to the bartender, gesturing to a bottle on the middle shelf. “Jack and Coke for me, please. Give me a shot of Bulleit. And make her a Bee’s Knees with the same.”

---