Page 33 of The Sharpest Edges

They haven’t gotten this far only to make a stupid mistake and get her fired now. He wonders if she left this job after the incident, but he’s still unwilling to risk it.

“It’s really good to see you again.” She gives his arm a squeeze and fireworks dance on his skin. “Come on, that cafe isn’t far. Wait until you see the menu.”

She steps away, rounding the car and getting into the driver’s seat while he slips in the other side. He’s spent a month convincing himself that this would never happen and now here she is, granting him the gift of her company, and taking him to a place with real food on what might be a legitimate date.

* * *

Ava doesn’t know what the hell she was thinking. The poorguy just got out of prison and she practically attacked him in the parking lot, luring him out for food when he wants to go home and sleep. He didn’t seem put off though. If anything, he was eager to go with her, a small smile lighting up his face when they got in the car and drove off. Like he couldn’t quite believe she was there, or that they were doing any of this.

Now, he sits across from her at a tiny table tucked away in a back corner of the cafe. They sneak glances at each other as if it’s still forbidden, waiting on their food and behaving like two teenagers on their very first date. They’ve both erupted into stilted, muffled laughter at least twice already. It’s all surreal and every time he catches her eyes, she can’t help but hold his gaze and grin back.

Silly. Ridiculous. Perfect.

“I should have pegged you for a dessert-first kind of guy.” She teases, referring to the peanut butter pie he ordered.

She expected him to want a burger and fries and all the fixings, but his eyes went wide at the vast array of choices on the menu and he immediately zeroed in on the sweet section.

He nods. “Need one of them shirts that says life is short, eat dessert first.”

She side-eyes him for a moment because somehow it sounds vaguely dirty when he says it in that low tone, but he could have told her the sky is blue, and that would have sounded dirty to her. She’s spent the last four weeks with her hand between her legs every night, wishing it was him, and that’s left her more than a little sexually frustrated.

The food arrives a second later, cutting off anything that might have come out of her mouth. A trio of fries placed before her draws his gaze, and he looks longingly at them.

She raises a brow. “I know how to share. Help yourself.”

He reaches out to pluck a sweet potato fry from its basket and dunk it into the orange glaze it’s paired with, nodding his approval. “It’s good. Sweet. What are the other ones?”

“Truffle and parmesan, and blue cheese and cheddar. A little bit of everything,” she says while eating a truffle fry dipped in dijon sauce.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life.” He looks at the sweet potato fries with something that can only be described as lust, before moving in to start on his pie. “Nope, this is the best thing. This one. Want some?”

He turns the plate toward her and she has to admit she does. They serve oversized pieces here, rich and sweet, and despite the fact that she’s enjoying her own fries, she already wants a bite of that pie staring back at her. She hesitates, not wanting to eat his food when it’s the first thing he’s had since leaving prison, but it’s a giant slice and he did snag more than a few of her fries…she caves with a nod, a pleased sound leaving her lips as they close over the fork.

He pauses to watch her, his adam’s apple bobbing with a hard swallow when she licks her lips. She isn’t trying to tease him. It’s just a damn good bite of food, but his desire for her is written all over his face and he looks away, knowing he’d been caught.

‘Lets get out of here and go to your place?’is what she wishes she was brave enough to say, but she isn’t that brave and the question sticks in her throat.

“How are you? How have you been? I wanted to visit but…” She trails off, unsure of where to start after being separated for a month.

Dean licks the whipped cream off his lower lip with a quick tongue. “Been okay. Just bored, which I guess was a goodproblem all things considerin’. Coulda been worse. Know you couldn’t visit.” He pauses then, fork in mid-air. “Real good seeing’ ya now, though. Missed you. All this, it’s the best damn day.”

She almost didn’t show up at all. She spent the past four weeks battling what-ifs in her head. Playing out alternate realities where nothing they had on the inside could ever work out here. Almost ready to let him go for fear of risking the possible rejection that might follow, or worse, finding out that the spark they cultivated and nourished in prison would fade away in the light of day despite giving it a solid shot.

She is so glad she came.

It’s different being with him out here, but of course it is. It’s brand new all over again, the two of them only now having a chance to get to know each other without restrictions. There’s a flutter in her chest when she thinks of all the possibilities ahead of them and that spark she’d felt every time she’d see him in the infirmary only burns brighter now, tickling her nerves and making her giddy.

She hasn’t been on a date in decades. So long ago that she barely knows how this works anymore and one thing she is certain of is that this is a date. A woman doesn’t spring a man from prison and take him out for his first meal unless there’s something going on.

“Sweet talker,” she finally replies, her voice light and her lips pursed, prompting a huff from him.

“Stop.”

He’s amused and relaxed, but she makes her next words serious, wanting him to know she’s not dismissing what he’s telling her. “I missed you too. I’d gotten so used to seeing you every day and then you were gone. That monthfelt like forever.”

“I was counting the minutes. Ain’t never going back, that’s for sure. I’ll check my car before I get in it, even with Boone locked away. Taking no chances. Might Uber it everywhere from now on.”

“Not a bad idea. Can’t be too careful. Do you have plans now that you’re out?”

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