Page 5 of Drunk Dialing

Treat caught him at the closest set of big double doors that led out of the arena. “Off to the races, Jake?”

“Shut up, Treat. I was hunting you.” Sort of. In a totally backassward sort of way, anyway.

“Hmmm. Sure you were. Want a corny dog?”

That had him blinking, trying to decide whether to laugh or cry.

“Sure.” That wasn’t out to supper, but it worked. He could pay for his own and be done. “There’s a concession stand over here.”

Maybe he’d just have a beer.

“I mean, I would drive you to the steakhouse, but you look like you’re gonna bolt, honey. And I want to talk to you. You want to go in my truck?”

“Just tell me where you want me, man.”

“Oh, now, Jake. That’s dangerous. Come on. We’ll get on out of here and go to a restaurant.”

His cheeks liked to light afire, and all he could do was duck his head. His cock chose that moment to remind him it still worked, too. Damn it all.

He followed Treat to his shiny new pickup, slipping his bag in the back and sliding into the passenger seat.

“I’m craving a steak, so that’s what we’re having. Cool?”

“You’re driving, babe.” That was how their relationship worked.

“I am. But if you’re wanting Chinese, that might be a problem.”

Jake scoffed. “Like I’ll turn down a steak.” It had been what? A year and a half? Longer?

He was a cowboy on a budget.

Not a burger budget, but not a steak one either. Or at least not the steak that Treat would buy into.

“I got us a reservation at the Barn Door.”

See? That was the kind of place that charged six bucks extra for a baked potato. Not like the Texas Roadhouse at all.

“Good thing I got my sponsor shirt on, huh?” He was trying to keep it light.

“Yep. That will get us free drinks at least.” Treat gave him a slow sideways grin that made him shiver.

Good Lord and butter, what the sam hell was he supposed to do?

Seriously.

He was going to lose his shit or shoot his wad. He wasn’t sure which.

“You okay, honey?” Treat asked, gaze back on the road.

“No. I made an ass out of myself. I’m embarrassed.” And that was the truth.

“I’m glad you did. I been looking for a reason.” A glance at Treat showed he wasn’t as calm and cool as he sounded. His jaw was tight, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

“I was a moron, but…” It hadn’t been a lie. None of it.

“No, sir. None of that. We’re gonna have a steak dinner and go from there.” Treat glanced at him again, dark brown gaze burning into him.

“Right. I haven’t indulged in a long damn time.”

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