Page 27 of Tank
“Definitely a song written about you. You’re wild, and I’m an outlaw. It could even be our song.” He grins.
Thinking more about the words, I agree. I love the song, and it does fit us.
Soon, we’re pulling up to the bar and walking inside. A mechanical bull is in the far corner, with a wide bar and a dance floor in the middle, surrounded by tables. Country music and Cowboy memorabilia are on every surface, and it feels welcoming and homey. Guiding us to a free booth at the far side of the dance floor, we take a seat and look over the menu.
“Tank, this place is amazing. Thank you for bringing me here.” I grin.
A waitress appears in a checked shirt and daisy dukes.
“What can I get for you folks?” she asks in a fake, cheery voice.
“I’ll have the cheeseburger and fries, with a Southern Comfort and lemonade,” I order.
“I’ll have steak, rare with the works and a lite beer,” Tank orders.
“Thank you,” she says and bats her eyes at him.
Unable to hold myself back, I roll my eyes at her. Tank sees and laughs, but luckily the waitress doesn’t and leaves to place our order.
“How was your day?” Tank asks.
“Yeah, boring day at work, but it’s getting better now,” I tell him.
“Nothing much to do or happening?” he fishes, as he still doesn’t know what I do for work.
“No, all quiet. How was your day?” I change the subject quickly, but I still notice the quick flash of annoyance on his face.
“Not bad, got a run in a day or so. Only a short one, so I’ll only be away for the day.”
“Okay, you don’t need to explain to me, Tank,” I remind him.
“That’s how a relationship works, darlin’. We tell each other things,” he says, not hiding the sarcasm in his voice.
“Really? How fucking novel,” I sass back.
“I just wish you would let me in a little more,” he sounds exasperated.
“Jesus, Tank, let’s not ruin a nice evening. Yes, I take time to trust people, but please respect that,” I beg him.
“You’re right, sorry, darlin’,” he replies, looking like a child who was just scolded.
The waitress chooses that moment to arrive with our order, and we eat in silence.
“This is not the night I wanted. Come on, let’s dance,” Tank says as he gets out of the booth and offers me his hand.
Smiling up at him, I take it and let him guide me to the dance floor. We move around the floor as Tammy Wynette softly sings about standing by your man, and I let her words flow over me.
“I’m loving having you in my arms,” he whispers in my ear.
“It’s a good place to be,” I smile up at him.
His lips meet mine in a soul-searing kiss.
We spend the rest of the night dancing in each other’s arms and stealing kisses. The ride home is quiet, but a comfortable one. We’re nearly home when my phone pings. Reading the text message from Willow, I feel my blood start to boil. Pulling up outside my house, he shuts the engine off and turns to me.
“You’re thinking very hard over there,” Tanks says.
I’m raging, and my hands are curling into fists.
