Page 85 of A New Era

“I like that you like it, but not much after that.” Taking the camera from her, I sling my arm around her and say, “We’ve been walking around all day. Let’s find somewhere to eat.”

“Sounds good to me and my feet.”

It feels like forever before we find a restaurant we like and one we can get a table. Jamie Boy texted earlier to say he’ll be at the hotel at eight.

I have to admit, I’m enjoying spending this time away from the club. Just me and my woman.

“How’s your steak?” she asks.

“It’s not bad, my mom's better.”

“One day you’ll say mine is better.”

“Food goals.” I laugh.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that we’re married now, and yet this is the first time we’ve gone out to dinner?”

“You married me for my dick, not for restaurants.”

Her eyes widened and she quickly looks around making sure no one hears.

“While that’s partly true, can we keep our voice down?”

Her cheeks redden and I say, “I didn’t realise you were embarrassed so easily.”

“I guess we’re still getting to know each other.”

“True. I like it, though. I like seeing you happy.”

“It’s nice being happy. You know yourself I forgot what it was like.”

Reaching across the table, I take hold of her hand and gently squeeze. “It’s in the past now.”

We finish dinner and pay the bill. Hand in hand, we stroll street after street and I admit, “I think we’re lost.”

“It’s about time you said something, I haven’t known where we are since we left the hotel.”

Spying a bar across the street, I suggest, “How about we go for a drink then get a cab back to the hotel so we don’t get lost again.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me.”

The place is what I imagined a pub in England to be like and every single face looks our way when we step inside. Holly’s hand instantly tightens in mine. She knows just as well as I do that we’ve walked into an upcoming shit show.

“Maybe we should leave?” she murmurs under her breath.

“We’ll have one drink then get the hell out of here.”

We stick to the end of the bar closest to the door and like I do back home, I keep my eyes everywhere without actually looking anywhere.

“A bottle of beer and a glass of white wine, please,” I say to the barman as I dig out my wallet.

“What’s just about worse than a grass, boys?” someone hollers from behind us.

“A dirty fucking Yank!”

I’m immediately on alert and regret not taking Holly’s advice and leaving. I have no backup, no gun, and a pub full of guys who are slowly rising from their seats.

Holly grabs onto my arm as I go to turn around. “Let’s go.”

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