Page 42 of Q: Satan's Fury MC

“I wanted to.”

“Well, it’s very sweet of you.”

“Wasn’t trying to be sweet, babe.” He cocked his brow as he informed me, “I was trying to make a point.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“You’ll see.” He took a bite of his waffles as he said, “Go on. See what you think.”

“Okay.”

I’d had pancakes and waffles before, but never at the same time. It was a little strange, but I went with it. I took a bite of pancakes, and then I tried a bite of the waffle. I’d barely swallowed when Q asked, “Well?”

“They’re both really good.”

“Yeah, but which one is better?”

“I don’t know.” I took another bite of each, savoring each mouthful as I tried to choose between the two, and after careful consideration, I replied, “I think I like the waffles better.”

“You think?”

“I like the waffles.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Now, what about the eggs?”

“I’m pretty sure I like scrambled best.” I took a bite of the cheesy, scrambled eggs, and then I tried a bite of the over-easy eggs. “Yeah, definitely the scrambled.”

Without being prompted, I sampled the different kinds of sausage, then smiled as I announced, “The links for sure.”

“Well, that was easy.”

“Thanks to you.” I took another bite of waffle, then said, “I still can’t believe you did all this.”

“It had to be done. There were questions that had to be answered.”

Q reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small notebook and pen. When he started jotting something down, I leaned over to take a look. “What’s that?”

“You’ll see.” He shoved it back in his pocket, then continued eating. “Eat up. We’ve got a busy day ahead.”

“A busy day? What do you mean?”

“We’ve got things to do.”

“But...”

“Gonna have to trust me on this one, babe.”

I don’t know if it was his sexy, little smile or the way he called me babe, but I couldn’t find it in me to argue with him. I was also extremely curious to see exactly what he had planned for our day, so I simply nodded and turned my attention back to my waffles.

As soon as we’d finished eating, I helped Q clean the kitchen and put the dishes away. Once we had everything put away, he asked, “You ready to go?”

“Not exactly.” I pulled at the strings on his hoodie. “I’m still wearing your sweats.”

“Not seeing how that’s a problem.”

“All I have are my boots.” I motioned my hand down to my bare feet. “And I don’t know about you, but I don’t think they really go with the outfit.”

“Oh, yeah. I hadn’t thought about that.” He studied me for a moment then reached over and grabbed the keys from the counter. “It’s all good. We can just run over to your place and grab you a change of clothes.”

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