Page 12 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

His body relaxes, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

“I feel you,” he says. “I think marriage is dope. My parents have been married for…shit…thirty years? That’s cool as hell to me. But not everybody is built for that,” he adds.

I nod. “That’s very true.”

“Your folks still together?”

I’m not ready for this question. I hesitate, just for a moment.

“They are,” I lie. “It’s such an inspiration.”

He watches me carefully, his eyes narrowing slightly. I hold his gaze, refusing to flinch in the face of his scrutiny.

“Well,” he finally says, “it sounds like you got high standards. Out here turning niggas down left and right.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all.” His juicy lips curve into a smile. “I like a challenge.”

I resist the urge to laugh at that. Famous last words, baby.

When the waiter brings our food, Ace beams proudly as I dig in. He chose perfectly—steak, medium rare, with a side of truffle mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus.

“You’re good,” I say, slicing off a piece of the meat. “Most men wouldn’t have gotten this right.”

“I ain’t most men.”

“No,” I murmur. “You’re not.”

The air shifts between us, heavy with unspoken things. My heart pounds relentlessly, but I keep my expression calm, my smile steady.

“Do you live near here?” I ask to break the tension, but I already know.

“I’m in Decatur. You?”

“Close enough.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “You’re not gonna tell me, huh?”

“Not yet."

“I thought you said you trust me.”

His boyish grin melts my panties, but I maintain my composure. I can’t fold just yet. Not before dessert.

“I trust you with my dinner order, not my address.”

His laugh is low and rough. “You smart.”

When the check comes, Ace pays, and I let him, because chivalry isn’t dead, and my mama didn’t raise no fool. But I offer to pay the tip so he’ll think I’m cooperative and generous. He refuses. Good boy.

Outside, I thank him for dinner.

“My pleasure,” he says, leaning over to say it right in my ear.

He’s on go. I’m not too far behind him, but I need to hold him off. It’s for his own good.

“So…” he says, his voice soft, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. “Do I get to see you again?”

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