Page 61 of Love is Blind

I may not have wanted a guide dog, but now that I’ve decided I’m going to keep her, the dog momma in me seems to be coming out.

“Lucy will be fine here,” Holly chimes in. “I can get her some water and make her comfortable in Ghost’s room for when you get back.”

“Interfering again, Holly,” Ghost warns.

“I prefer the term helping,” she volleys.

At their banter, a genuine smile creeps across my face. Now that I have somewhat of an understanding of what Ghost has been through and know Holly saved him, I can see her meddling comes from a place of love and while Ghost may get annoyed by her pushy ways, he appreciates her. Respects her too.

Swiveling to face him, I reach out and grab a fistful of leather.

“Let’s get out of here, Casper.”

~*~

Ghost’s ideaof celebrating consisted of an hour and forty-five-minute ride to Fayetteville and dinner at Mac’s Speed Shop. I had never been but as we walk hand in hand across the parking lot, Ghost reveals the menu fairs similar to Sally’s. I’m not quite sure why we traveled so far, but I’m not complaining.

I love riding on the back of Ghost’s bike and this time when I hopped on, I knew exactly where to put my feet.

I sweep my cane across the floor as Ghost releases my hand and holds the door open for me. The restaurant is noisier than Sally’s and seems to be much more crowded.

“Two, a booth if you have one,” he tells the hostess. Pressing a hand to the small of my back, he leans close. “It’s pretty packed in here and the tables are close together. Why don’t you ditch the cane and give me your hand?”

I contemplate the suggestion for about a second before I hand him the cane. If he hadn’t showed up at Emmy’s apartment last night, I probably wouldn’t have given my trust so easily to him, but a lot has changed since then.

His fingers brush mine as he takes the cane.

“I’ll give it back to you once we’re seated,” he assures me then takes my hand. The hostess leads us to a table and Ghost stands close as I slide into the booth. Once I’m seated, he places the folded cane on top of the table and closes my hand around it, letting me know where it is and also, that he is a man of his word. A moment later the vinyl covering the bench seat squeaks as he folds his large frame into the booth.

“Just one menu I’m guessing?”

I roll my eyes at the hostess. It’s an ignorant thing to say but I quickly brush it off. Some people are just assholes. Ghost, however, does not brush it off.

“How many people you see sitting here?” Ghost growls.

“Two but she—” He cuts her off.

“Then you leave two menus.” I hear her slap another menu onto the table. “Now, apologize.”

I lift my chin and turn my head toward the waitress.

“That’s not necessary,” I interject.

“I think it is,” Ghost volleys in a tense, clipped voice that forbids any room for argument. My cheeks heat but I’m not sure if it’s because I’m angry he’s causing a scene or just plain embarrassed. I guess it’s fair to assume it’s a bit of both.

“I’m sorry,” the hostess mumbles. “Your server will be right over.”

I listen for her footsteps but before I can address Ghost’s reaction, he speaks.

“It always like that?”

There is a degree of concern in his tone so I decide to give him a pass. I don’t think he’s got a thing for disabled girls. This is probably his first rodeo. It takes some getting used to.

“I don’t make it a habit of going out to eat. Back in Charlotte there was a diner on the corner of my apartment building. Everyone knew me, so most times I didn’t even have to tell them what I wanted.”

He doesn’t respond. I hear the menus shuffle around, then the server appears, asking if we’d like anything to drink. Ghost orders himself a beer, then the waiter asks, “And for you?”

“I know you like vodka, but I hear they make a good frozen margarita here,” Ghost says.

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