Page 26 of Waiting for Acceptance
The audacity for me to be turned on by any part of that sentence pisses me off.
He keeps his finger on my lips, raising a brow as if he’s waiting for me to confirm or deny whether or not I cankeep my mouth shut and listen, and I do something even I don’t understand.
I bite him.
His finger is knuckle deep between my teeth and his glacier-blue eyes ignite.
Then he runs the tip of his finger along my tongue and I think I short-circuit completely. My mouth pops open, allowing him to remove his finger, and he runs it across his bottom lip. Then he backs up and opens the passenger door and my stupid girl brain tells me to get in the car.
“See, sweetheart. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He winks and closes the door behind me.
I regret everything.
We leave the parking lot and drive for at least ten minutes without him saying a single word. As soon as I open my mouth and take a breath to say something he looks at me, causing me to pause.
“You remember the deal, Trouble. No talking. Just listening. I’d hate to find more creative ways than my finger to keep you quiet.”
I’m tempted to start talking just to see what he comes up with, then promptly remember that I hate him and question why I ever even got in this car to begin with.
Because you bit him, licked his finger, then he ran said finger across his bottom lip and you liked it…that’s why.
Not a great reason, but I’ve done dumber things from being turned on.
Like sleeping with the guy you’re sitting next to?
Okay…that’s enough. I’m turning my brain off now.
Instead of saying anything, I reach over and turn the volume up on his radio. He gives me a scolding glance but I simply pop my eyes at him, still saying nothing. We drive for a few more minutes before pulling into a drive-thru.
“Two soft tacos, no lettuce, an order of cheesy potatoes, no sour cream and—” he looks over at me and squints. “A medium water. And one chicken quesadilla with a Pepsi.” The person gives him his total, we pull around to pay and get our food before parking in the almost empty lot.
“Eat,” he says, handing me the bag he just pulled his food from. I stare blankly at the tacos and potatoes, unable to pinpoint how I’m feeling.
“This is my exact order.” I look at him as he’s mid-bite.
“I know. So eat it,” he says over a mouth full of food.
What does he mean, he knows?!
“What if I don’t want it?” I’m starving and there’s no way Iwon’tbe eating this food, but I’m curious what his answer will be.
“Don’t be a brat. Eat the food. You’re probably starving after only playing with your salad before throwing it out today.” Accurate.
“Fitz.Whydid you bring me here? I could be at home eating by myself.”
Technically, I’d be eating with Ginny who is actually growing on me now that we’ve established some house rules and purchased her a litter box.
“While I’m sure you think your vicious, fighter cat makes better company, I do still need to talk to you, and I find people receive difficult information better when they aren’t hungry.”
“What difficult information?” My anxiety kicks up, causing my chest to grow tighter.
“Put the taco in your mouth and I will tell you.” I roll my eyes, but oblige. Taking a taco from the brown paper bag I unwrap it and take a bite, motioning for him to begin talking.
“You think you have me all figured out, but I can assure you, you do not. And while I still plan to prove you wrong on pretty much every count, the only important thing you need to know right now is this. Yes, I’m employed by The Fitzgerald Firm, and yes, we are buying out Coleson, but I’m not a mole. I’m the acquisition manager. Jack and Barbara know exactly why I’m here because they are selling Coleson willingly. I’m simply here ensuring everything is up to The Fitzgerald Firm standard before the transaction goes through.” I swallow my food and he holds my water up with a straw already in it. I hesitantly grab it from him and take a drink as I process the information—along with the fact that he’s being kind of sweet right now and it’s freaking me out.
“Why?” I whisper, mostly to myself, though he takes the opportunity to answer.
“Retirement is hard when you don’t have a 401k and have hemorrhaged money on flips that never paid off.” I drop my food in the bag and let my head fall back on the seat.
