Page 81 of Working Out West

Moving one way or another would make the commute shorter for either of us. That meant I would have more time with him.

By the time West dropped into his seat again, our meals had been delivered. I waited for a reaction from his food, but instead, he looked guilty about something. He rubbed his hands up and down his forearms and looked everywhere but at me.

“What?” I demanded.

His eyes clashed with mine. “What, what?”

“Something has happened in the time you went to the restroom and here. What was it?” Did I have to hunt someone? Hurt someone? Kill someone? I ground my teeth together and glanced around while I waited for an answer.

“Okay, so it was nothing really.”

“West,” I bit out.

“The waitress caught me in the hall and asked if I needed help to get away from you.”

“What?” I snarled.

“I told her she was a fool and that I didn’t. Don’t stress about it. I didn’t want to tell you because of the way you would react, but I’m no good at keeping things in.”

I stood. West moved quickly to shift in front of me. His hands landed on my chest. “No. This will not ruin our first date. Who cares what she thinks? I set her straight, so it’s fine. Please, for me, sit back down and enjoy our time here.”

I stared down at him and tried to calm my thoughts. It irritated me that she had the balls to approach him after everything. Still, for West, I would be reasonable for once.

Only West must have read something different from my expression because he blurted, “I know whatmyela voushmeans.”

An abrupt laugh dropped from my mouth. “What?”

His face heated. I loved how he blushed so easily. “You know, what you call me.”

“Moya lyubov’?”

“Yes, that.”

Grinning, I gestured to the seat, letting him think his distraction had worked. “Please, we will eat, and you can tell me how you have heard of it.”

“Oh… um, okay.” He nodded and started to move back to the table. Before he could escape, I took his wrist in mine and quickly planted a kiss on his neck. His pulse in his wrist increased against my fingers. I smiled inwardly before I released him and took my seat.

I placed the napkin over my lap while I waited for West to say more. When he stayed silent, I looked over at him. He was already shoveling food into his mouth.

“This is good. So good.”

I shook my head. “Moya lyubov’,you got away with the change of subject before by saying you had to think about it. I will need to know how you found out about your name.”

He set his fork down, cleared his throat, and after a sip of his drink, he said, “Google Translate.”

I drew my brows up, surprised. “And it understood your pronunciation?”

“Did I mince it up?”

“A little. But I found it cute.”

He scraped his bottom lip with his top teeth in thought.

“What, moya lyubov’?” I asked.

His soft gaze rose. “You’ve called me that since… then.”

“Da.”

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