Page 28 of Gideon's Gratitude

The noise receded a bit as we grabbed the last booth in the back corner.

Hope this won’t trigger sensory overload.

It’d been a risk to come into town, but one I was willing to take. I removed my coat.

Archer eyed his own suit, shrugged, and opted to keep the jacket on.

The restaurant was warm, but not overly so.

Sarabeth reappeared with menus and handed them over. “What can I get you gents to drink?”

While Archer perused, I offered a smile. “May I have a black licorice milkshake?”

Archer’s head shot up. The look of disgust was unmistakable.

I just smiled. I’d known it’d likely get a rise. I enjoyed poking the bear.

“I’ll have an amaretto milkshake, thank you.”

Sarabeth grinned. “Great. By the time those are ready, you can give me your orders.” She sashayed away in the way only a confident woman could do. She carried a few extra pounds, but those curves made her more beautiful.

Archer wasn’t watching her. His eyes rested unnervingly on me.

What does he see?

I had no idea. Wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I wasn’t attractive. Not in the classical sense. I had a decent face, a dented nose, a high forehead, and thick lips. Leo was beautiful. Archer was stunning. I was comely.

“They have hot dogs.” His dark-gray eyes sparkled.

They appeared almost black in the low light. Earlier today they’d been lighter.

Like you should be noticing such things.

I’m not blind.

No, I wasn’t.

“What are you thinking?” He arched that left eyebrow again.

Since blurting out the truth was unlikely to be taken well, I fingered the menu. “Deciding between a burger and a chicken dinner.”

“Have the steak, if you like. This is on me.”

The steely gaze dared me to argue. Well, my wallet appreciated the gesture. “Thank you.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? You’re prideful. I get that. I am as well. Knocking on your door last night was difficult because I wanted to handle the situation myself. I recognized, though, that I needed help. Assistance only you could render.”

Well, I couldn’t argue with that logic. “I was happy to help.” And I was. Would’ve done it for anyone. Even serial killers.

“And I thought we were getting along until I mentioned I’m a divorce attorney.” Archer held up his hand to prevent any argument. “I understand. People have a perception of lawyers—and of divorce lawyers in particular. I’m hoping you’ll provide me with the opportunity to show you I’m not like others in my profession. Or maybe that I am, but that our reputation is undeserved.”

“Oh, it’s deserved all right.” I muttered the words under my breath, but suspected I could be heard, even over the din in the restaurant.

“One licorice shake and one amaretto. You gentlemen know what you want to order?”

Archer indicated I should go first.

“I’ll go for the classic burger. No tomato, but with bacon and fried onions.” See? If I was on a date, I wouldn’t have picked onions.

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