Page 67 of Tortured Eyes
Twenty-Five
The heavy door closes behind me, Samuel’s last glance at me almost laughing. I turn and look at her, wondering what that all meant in there and why she’s damn well here in the first place. I let her go, and she comes chasing me down? The underlying anger burns under my skin, winding up parts of me that usually become settled when I’m near him. It’s not because she’s come for me. It’s because she’s found him and is digging into things that are nothing to do with her.
I glower and look back at the door again, part of me ready to go straight back in and give Samuel a piece of my mind. Honesty and dinner? With her? I came here for him, not her. I came to talk, discuss, fuck preferably. Still—I turn to her again—here we are. Maybe if this is what he wants, then I should oblige.
My hands find my pockets, whipping my long coat out the damn way. “If you wanted a date, you could have just called and asked,” I mutter, bypassing her to walk to the road.
“Screw you, Logan. That isn’t what this is and-”
“Keep telling yourself that long enough, Red. You might start believing it.”
She huffs behind me and tries keeping up, more grumbles coming as we eventually cross over the sacred threshold back out onto average streets. I swing my head left and right, trying to think of somewhere to go.
“What are we even doing?” she snaps.
“Having dinner according to him,” I reply, loosening my tie. "There must be some sense in his reasoning. Keep up."
I set off along the main street, taking in the some of the old, battered buildings, and then look at her as she walks beside me. She looks just as appetising as the last time I saw her, better actually. The thought annoys the fuck out of me, especially after seeing them both in the same space. It was the way he looked between me and her, small twitches to his lips as if he suddenly understood that other side of me he’s been searching for. He stood there in his robes, his normal holier-than-thou attitude being shown with nothing but an arch to his brow, and then put his saintly hand on her. I didn’t know whether to kill her because of the visual or haul her back up to his place and fuck her in front of him for daring to intrude.
“I don’t even want to have dinner with you. It’s inappropriate, and you’re an asshole.”
I laugh and angle my hand at the door into the old pizza joint, letting her make some choices. I mean, fuck it. Dinner’s on me apparently. She can choose where she eats this time round. She can even choose how long she keeps those clothes on given Samuel’s cutting eyes at me. Maybe that’s what he meant by this dinner—try some respect and see where it gets me.
My gaze skims over her again, something hovering in my mind about wanting a dress on her. Red, to match her hair. Heels, too. Never seen her in anything but leathers, jeans or naked. There’s something provocative about the thought of peeling a dress down her skin, finding lingerie beneath. “You ever dress like a woman?”
“You ever act like a fucking gentleman?” She pushes on the door and enters.
“What the hell would you know about gentlemen?”
She swings her bright copper tones towards me, throwing more attitude at me as she does.
“Who fucking knows? I might be damn good at it for the right person,” I continue, looking around the place.
“Like Samuel?”
A slow smile spreads over my face, brow rising at what she thinks she might know, and I turn to look at a young waitress who walks our way.
“Table for two?” she asks.
“Yeah.” Just for two.
We’re eventually taken to a private area through the back end of the place, the window seat she was trying to take us to abandoned. Much as the thought of a cop and me being seen together eating is laughable, I don't know who might be walking along the street to cause problems.
I take off my coat and pull out a chair for her, ordering a bottle of Merlot before the waitress walks away. “You like red?” I ask.
“Beer?”
“But we’re on a date. Gentlemanly?”
“Logan, we are not on a date. I’m investigating you.”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why are you investigating me?”
Her ass slides onto the seat as she glances furtively around the place. Fuck knows why. She should just say the words out loud, let this place know what she thinks she’s got on me.
