Page 7 of Taming a Menace
“Oh, so we’re just starting with the hard questions off the top?” I laughed.
“Might as well get them out of the way,” he said as he occupied the stool next to me.
For the first time, I smelled his cologne. I’m not sure if I had been too preoccupied before or if the aroma of the food had overpowered it. Out of nowhere, his warm citrus scent felt like a hug. It enveloped me, making me want to cozy up to a man I knew nothing about.
I ate a mouthwatering bite of the duck and closed my eyes as it melted on my tongue. Not only was the man sexy as hell, but he could cook his ass off. Who cooked duck? The man sitting next to me beckoning for me to tell him about myself. I never talked about myself, so I had no idea where to start.
“Well, let’s see. I’m the youngest of two girls. My sister is my best friend. My parents are still married. I don’t have any kids, and I’m thinking about buying this house. The owner wants to sell.”
“I think you should. It’s nice.”
“Thank you.”
“What’s your favorite type of cuisine? Bonus points if you give me a restaurant recommendation.”
“Japanese. There is a place called Sakura close to my old place. It’s the best in the area hands down. It’s one of those take-out only spots.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“It’s crazy that you asked that. I’m a foodie down to the bone as you can probably tell by these hips and thighs. My favorite meal is breakfast.”
“If being a foodie gave you those hips and thighs, I’m prepared to cook for you every single day.” He chuckled.
“Such a man.” I giggled. I don’t know why that made me giggle, but it did.
“That’s all I know how to be. A real man loves a woman with curves. I don’t have to keep telling you how beautiful you are. I’m not just talking about your face. You’re beautiful from head to toe. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel any different. Especially a nigga that didn’t have any business having you in the first fucking place. Excuse my French.”
“You’re fine. I work in mental health. I’m used to hearing curse words.”
“You’re not supposed to talk about work, Iyla,” he reminded me.
“Oh right. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, love. Do you watch TV?” he asked, continuing his inquisition.
“Absolutely. I love true crime documentaries. I sleep with a night light in the bathroom because I get scared that I’ll end up on the next season. Speaking of things that I’m scared of, I’ve been to theme parks, but I’ve never ever ridden a rollercoaster because I’m scared of heights.”
“You’re just a scary little thing, huh? Anything youaren’tscared of?” he asked with a smirk.
“Really?” I laughed. “See, I knew I shouldn’t have told you all of my business.”
“I’m just messing with you, beautiful. I hate true crime. There’s enough going on. I try not to watch real life tragedies on TV unless it’s the news. What’s your favorite kind of movie?”
“That’s an easy one. I love, love, love anything romance, especially romantic comedies.”
“I guess I didn’t have to ask that, most women do.”
“Probably.” I nodded. “I’m a sucker for happily ever afters.”
“You believe that kind of shit happens in real life?” he quizzed with lifted brows.
“I’m probably the wrong person to ask right now.”
“Oh yeah. Sorry. That was insensitive,” he said, waving his hand as if he could erase what he’d said.
“It’s not your fault that I fell in love with a lying bastard.”
“I really hate that, though, because if it weren’t out of line, I would ask you out. I know you’re fresh out of a bad relationship. I have some shit going on myself.”
