Page 15 of Dating the Bad Boy

“You know what? I was going to name our first daughter Letty after my favorite waitress. Now, I think I’ll name her Rowan instead,” I say, shooting a pointed look at Letty. Rowan is her arch-nemesis in town. I don’t fucking know why. They’ve hated each other since they were in grade school fifty years ago.

Letty points her pen at me. “I’m going to be alone with your food all the way from the kitchen to this table, Asa Steele. Don’t play with me.” She turns a softer look on Leslie. “What can I get you, sweet girl? Your food is perfectly safe with me. I only threaten jackasses who should know better than to test old women.”

Leslie giggles again, straightening up to place her order. “Can I please have French toast, runny eggs, and three pieces of bacon?”

“You sure can.” Letty beams at her before scowling at me. “You want the usual?”

“Yep.”

She jerks her head in a nod before spinning on her heel and heading toward the back.

“That old lady is a terrorist,” I mutter, shaking my head.

“You like her,” Leslie says, her voice soft.

“Are you kidding? I love the hell out of her,” I say, laughing quietly. “She talks more shit than I do. I annoy the fuck out of everyone in town, but Letty gets me.”

Leslie laughs softly, tracing the tattoo on my forearm. “Everyone from around here loves you, even if you do cause your fair share of trouble, Asa. You keep them young.”

“Baby, I’ve run through the middle of this town buck naked just because I was bored,” I say, laughing quietly. “They’ve seen more of me than anyone should ever see. And they still show up whenever I need anything. I know how they feel about me.”

She blinks wide eyes at me. “You really did that?”

“Tequila may have been involved.”

She shakes her head, smiling. “You’re an odd man, Asa Steele.”

“Nah, I just do what the fuck I want. I’ve seen a lot of death in my life, gorgeous girl. And a lot of pain. I don’t want to spend my life watching it from the sidelines. I want to live it. When I die, I want to go out knowing I did every fucking thing I wanted to do and I did it my way. Why play by rules someone else set when I’m not hurting anyone? I’m not a bad man. I don’t hurt people. And I imagine I do as much good for this town as anyone else. I just raise a little hell while I do it.”

At the end of the day, I figure if that’s not enough, then fuck it. My parents did everything right. They still died young, leaving behind three kids and an oil company Aidan was barely old enough to run. I’m making different choices.

Clearly, I’m making the right ones because I’m here right now, with her sitting beside me, staring at me like I’m something special. If that’s not winning in life, I don’t know what the fuck is.

“You’re pretty incredible,” she whispers, her expression soft and sweet.

“You’re making it real fucking hard to behave right now,” I groan.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t behave. You never have a day in your life. Why start now?”

“Good point.” I cup her cheek, leaning in to kiss her. “You better get that captivity note ready, gorgeous girl. You’re going to need it after this. We’re going to set the whole goddamn town to talking when I practically fuck you over this table.”

“My word!”

Leslie goes rigid in my arms as a woman gasps in outrage from behind us. She turns slowly, her eyes widening and her face going pale.

“Mama,” she whispers. “What are you doing here?”

Ah, fuck.

I turn just as slowly as she did, my balls damn near crawling back inside my body when I set eyes on the middle-aged woman scowling daggers at us, her hands planted on her hips, her face pinched with annoyance. She looks just enough like Leslie for there to be no mistaking that they’re family.

“I could ask you the same thing, young lady,” Gloria Langley says, her voice tight. “You were supposed to be at the dealership an hour ago for a meeting.”

Leslie gasps, her eyes flying open wide. “That was this morning? Oh, no! I completely forgot.”

“I can see that.” Her mother cuts her eyes in my direction. “You were too busy gallivanting around with Mr. Steele.”

“Mama, don’t be like that,” Leslie says, her voice soft. Strained. She seems tense in a way she hasn’t since I met her, almost… exhausted. Fuck. Is this how her mother always treats her? Like she’s a recalcitrant child who has done something wrong?

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