Page 19 of Cold Foot Revenge
Dylan was a completely different world than she was used to.
Tonight, she would do as he asked and just have fun. Just turn off her mind and enjoy the moment, but tonight at ten o’clock when she was walking up the stairs to the stage in the Rabbit Hole, she would be mentally prepared to return to her life.
Tonight with Dylan would just be a fun distraction.
Chapter Five
Tanner’s Steakhouse was fancy as hell.
Roxy stared in horror at the three—three!—differently sized forks that sat directly next to a plate that probably cost a month’s wage.
“That one’s for snails,” Dylan said, pointing to a tiny, three-prong fork.
“You can eat snails?” she whispered, scandalized.
“It’s called escargot,” his mother said from across the small four-top table. “The look you have on your face right now is how I feel about it too. You couldn’t pay me enough to eat one of them things.”
The kindness in his mom’s voice eased Roxy’s tension a little. Pamela had been warm in her introduction and shook her hand firmly before they’d all sat down at the table. Just outside the big picture window beside them, there was a river below and trees all around. Half of the restaurant was on stilts and was right on the edge of a shallow ravine.
She was trying so hard to be proper and polite, but gads it was hard to do. She had so many questions. Why were there individual towels in the bathroom to dry her hands? What were the sample perfume bottles for in there? She’d squirted some on herself that she’d liked, and Dylan had commented on it when she’d returned. And most importantly, “Hey, I don’t understand some of the stuff on this menu,” she said softly.
“Want me to order for you?” he asked, leaning on the table, his face wholly relaxed as he looked at her.
“I’m…” She glanced at his parents, who were looking at her expectantly. “I’m not sure you would know what I like.”
“You’re a yote. I’m guessing meat.”
A laugh punched out of her, shocking her as much as it probably shocked the table.
She cleared her throat and told him, “I like steak.”
“Creamed spinach is really good here,” Pamela said.
“I’ve never had that.”
“It’s sharable size so we can get some for the table.”
“As long as we get mashed potatoes,” his father, Jeff said.
“Do you come here often?” she asked conversationally, tugging at the length of her cut-off shorts under the table.
Pamela was dressed in a low-cut, tight-fitting dress, and she pressed her hand against her cleavage to cover it as she leaned forward. “Us, honey? Hell no. This is a special occasion. We don’t get to see our boys much anymore, so we wanted to spring for the fancy spot so Dylan would actually come and meet us. This is a bribe.”
“We had to save for three weeks for this dinner,” Jeff teased with an easy smile.
She giggled and more of the tension eased. Okay, she liked Dylan’s parents.
“I do like to get dressed up from time to time though and I’ve been counting down to wearing this particular dress.”
“Well, it looks beautiful on you. Cobalt blue is absolutely your color.”
“Oh, go on,” Pamela said coyly.
“No really, go on,” Jeff deadpanned. “She will preen all night under compliments.”
“Should we split a bottle of wine?” she asked the boys.
“Oh yack,” Dylan said. “Nah, this one likes cheap tequila shots.”
