Page 17 of Sleeping Redemption
My eyes trailed over the sight of him, his dark blonde hair not quite a light brown. Even after being in a helmet, it managed to stay securely fashioned in a small pony behind his head.
A light layer of stubble grew in on his face, accentuated even more so by the way his mouth tilted up in a tender smile. He sat back against the booth, extending one arm along the top of the seat while his other hand rested on the table in front of him.
Taking the opportunity that presented itself, I readied myself as I reached over to take his hand. His soft gray eyes followed my actions. Cradling his hand with both of mine, I caressed the back of his hand while maintaining eye contact.
The summoning of my charming powers traveled through me like a wave of sunlight in my veins, slithering its way down both my arms and out of my fingertips into the hand I held. Perhaps I had been too easy on him this morning at the coffeeshop. This time I would be sure to pour more energy into my efforts and increase the intensity.
My power sought out his free will, overflowing from my body and soaking into his. Worst case, I overdid things, and he would follow me like a lost puppy dog for the remainder of his human years.
Alex didn’t make a move, he just silently watched and waited.
Time to test the waters. “About the contract,” I began. “After careful consideration, given the amount of maintenance and upkeep, I’m going to require a five-year contract with a substantial fee for ongoing support and services.”
“You drive a hard bargain. Here’s my counteroffer. I will sign a one-year contract, and in lieu of the monthly fee, I will take you out once a week.”
I shoved his hand away from me.
What the fuck?
I wasn’t sure if I was more offended that my persuasion hadn’t worked or that he thought he could negotiate dates into this business deal. While I had done my best to maintain a neutral front this morning, I wasn’t nearly as put together this go around.
There was the slightest tug of smugness at the corners of his mouth, and I damn near took the rolled silverware and stabbed him with it. Lucky for him, a waitress approached our table, and waffles begged to be ordered.
“What can I get for ya, folks?” the plump woman in a blue dress asked as she pulled out a pad of paper from her white apron and a pencil from behind her ear.
Not bothering to acknowledge her, I spat out my order. “One of every type of waffle on your menu.”
Alex raised both brows and chuckled. “There’s no way you’re going to be able to eat the better part of twenty waffles.”
Bitterly, I responded, “You’d be amazed at what I can pack away.”
“Whatever you want, angel.” He looked at the waitress and smiled. “One of every waffle it is. Thanks.”
The waitress didn’t even write anything down on her notepad before she stuttered, “Oh, okay. Um, sure. I’ll go put that right in.”
Once it was just the two of us again, I stewed in my irritation as my leg bobbed up and down. I determinedly went through all the possible scenarios that would explain why my abilities weren’t working on the man in front of me.
There was a heavy silence between us during the wait for the kitchen to pull together the massive order. Alex tried to make small talk, most often with me responding with simple nods or shrugs. The whispers of violence echoed inside my brain wondering how one breaks an already broken toy.
When the plates began to take up space on our table, I immediately dug into eating my feelings. My fork stabbed bite-sized pieces of the crispy rounds, trying a little bit of each variety on display before me. They came in various combinations from sweet to savory. A large portion had fruit toppings, others had confectionery toppings, and then there were a few waffles that had savory toppings like hot honey fried chicken or were stuffed like the one with a jalapeno-cheddar filling.
“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” he finally asked after polishing off one of the half-eaten waffles I had shoved to the side.
A mental image of Alex’s blood filling up the little nooks in my waffles was a satisfying thought if it wouldn’t be a disservice to the incredibly delicious waffle.
My tongue snaked out and ran over my upper lip to capture any escaped whipped cream before responding, “Nothing isbothering me.” I was quite comfortable with my violent thoughts, thank you very much.
He looked way too relaxed after my answer, like all of this was somehow normal. “You sure? The way you’re looking at those waffles is making me think twice about dessert.”
“Dessert? After all this?” Unless his idea of dessert was getting us both off, I couldn’t fathom adding anything else to my stomach.
He nodded at me before reaching over into his jacket, pulling out a small white box with a gold ribbon neatly tied on top. “It’s not much, but I figured you might enjoy these.”
I set my fork down on my plate, eyeing the fancy container suspiciously as he slid it across the table toward me. Taking the box, I removed the bow and pulled off the lid. Nestled inside in little gold foil wrappers were four dark chocolate truffles. From the differing exterior coatings, it looked like there were four different flavors.
“Since I couldn’t coordinate a trip over to Belgium on such short notice, I figured I’d do the next best thing. Belgian waffles. Truffles from Belgium. I was going for a theme, I guess,” he said bashfully before shrugging.
My mouth watered at the chocolates before me, one of my guilty pleasures that usually tamed even my foulest moods. To top it off, truffles from Belgium were the only truffles worth eating. I hadn’t been there in years; it used to be one of my favorite places to visit with Atlas before he…
