Page 35 of Betting on the Bad Boy
I smiled and watched Dante walk over to the long table laden with food. It wouldn’t kill me to spend an afternoon in the same building with him. It’s not like he was going to grab my ass or come onto me in front of the senior citizen brigade. Plus, his grandmother sure was a hoot.
He came back a few minutes later carrying two paper plates piled high with a traditional Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like.” He set an overflowing plate down in front of me.
“It all looks delicious.”
“Let me go grab silverware and some napkins. Do you want lemonade or iced tea?”
“Lemonade would be great, thanks.” I leaned back in my chair and watched him walk away again, taking a moment to enjoy the view. A minute later he was back.
“Thank you,” I said, as he handed me some plastic silverware and a napkin. He set my drink down next to me. “This looks wonderful.”
“Yeah, just don’t eat the Jell-O salad.”
“Why not?”
“Mrs. MacNamara makes it.” He scooted his chair in next to mine. “I think last year she put black beans in it instead of raisins. You just never know what she’s going to throw in there.”
“Thanks for the warning. Oh, and I really like your apron.”
Dante reached back and untied the strings, then whipped the apron over his head. “Meemaw’s a stickler for the rules. I’m surprised she didn’t make me wear a hairnet.”
“Now that I’d like to see.” I smiled at the thought of him with a blue net over his head. He’d probably still look hot.
As we tucked into our meal, I looked around. The space was comfortable enough. Bookshelves lined the cheery yellow walls, stacked with paperbacks, puzzles, and board games. A giant television sat up against one wall, and long tables filled in the center of the room.
“It’s like a rec room for seniors,” Dante said between bites of stuffing and mashed potatoes. “Meemaw’s been coming here for years. They have card clubs, sewing stuff, bingo. Keeps her out oftrouble.” He glanced over at where Meemaw stood fidgeting with the food on the buffet.
I saw the love in his eyes. “She must be very special to you.”
“She is. She raised me, pretty much by herself.” He wiped the corner of his mouth with the paper napkin.
My eyes lingered on his lips. “So, you grew up around here, then?”
“Yep, about ten miles outside of town. I hated it at the time. Looking back, it was probably the best place for me.”
“What do you mean?”
Dante fiddled with his fork. “Let’s just say I went through a few years of soul searching. I caused Meemaw a lot of grief before I settled down.” His gaze met mine as he stuffed an entire roll into his mouth.
I swallowed a bite of stuffing, forcing it past the lump in my throat. Those eyes, I could literally drown in them when he focused all his attention on me.
What kind of trouble had he caused as a kid? I pictured him shirtless, straddling a giant motorcycle. I’d let it go for now. Besides, I’d been the one to make the rules, and learning more about each other wasn’t part of our agreement.
Meemaw finished messing with the buffet and walked toward us. “How is everything?”
“It’s delicious. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to help with the cooking.”
“Pshaw, don’t you worry about it. I have a special job for you and Dante if you’re willing to help?”
“Of course.” It was the least I could do seeing as how I’d missed out on the entire meal prep process.
Dante smiled and shook his head, his mouth full of green bean casserole.
“Oh, you just stop that.” Meemaw playfully slapped his arm.
He finished chewing and swallowed. “Be careful, Faith. She has a way of coercing unsuspecting people into doing her bidding.”
