Page 26 of Midnight Mate
“Yes, this all looks very professional,” Travis snapped.
Easton let go of my hand and slid an arm around my waist, pulling me close. “The truth is Cat and I are old sweethearts. In fact, we’re having dinner tonight so we can catch up.” He leaned in. “Pick up right where we left off, eh, kitty cat.”
The old nickname was a joke between us. Unfortunately, our third wheel didn’t know that. I swallowed hard as Travis fought for control, his nostrils flaring with every angry breath.
East tensed, and I knew the moment he realized what Travis was—and what he was trying hard not to become right here on the sidewalk in broad daylight.
“Easy,” East said quietly. “Exposing yourself here would be a mistake. One you might not live long enough to learn from.”
“I don’t know who you think you are, mutt, but you don’t get to come here and threaten me on my turf,” Travis hissed. He turned to me and snapped, “This isn’t over.”
Then he stalked off.
I felt the fire draining out of me as he went.
“That was unexpected.”
East’s words forced my attention away from Travis’s retreating figure. Suddenly, I was not only hyperaware of the attention we’d gained during our little face-off but Easton’s arm still wrapped around my middle.
I stepped back, relieved and a little disappointed when he dropped his arm to give me space.
“God, I’m so sorry about that.” I ran a hand through my hair, waiting for the adrenaline rush to subside.
“Don’t apologize. You’re not responsible for someone else’s asshole behavior.”
“No, but it was still unprofessional.”
“Of him. Not you.”
I blew out a breath and met his bright, blue eyes. There was worry in them, and a calm that steadied me. “Thanks for handling him.”
“Seems like you handled him just fine on your own.”
I thought about the other night when Travis had almost attacked me. My knees rattled at the realization Travis had almost done the same thing again just now. In fact, if Easton hadn’t been here, I wasn’t sure he would’ve let it go. “I’m glad you were here.”
“Good. You can repay me by letting me buy you dinner.”
“You were serious about that?”
“Of course.”
“I thought you were just making a point.”
“I was. And the point is that you’re going to have dinner with me.”
I shook my head, a refusal on the tip of my tongue.
East stepped close, invading my space so quickly that my mind went blank. The words died on my tongue.
“Please.”
Maybe it was the sudden use of manners. Or the near-desperate look he flashed me. Before I could examine my actions, I felt myself nodding.
“Okay. Dinner. Tomorrow.”
“It’s a date.” East grinned, and my heart did that familiar tug—thrilled and aching all at once.
“It’s just dinner,” I said firmly.
