Page 88 of Roses Are Dead
Oh yeah. I knew which hooker she was.
“A friend of yours?”
He snorted. “She’s everyone’s friend.”
“If you have a dick,” I muttered.
“What’s that?” He held the coat out so I could slip into it.
“Nothing.”
“It sounded like jealousy.”
I tipped my head at him. “Aren’t we late?”
He shrugged, but opened the garage door so I could teeter down the measly two steps to the concrete. “I’m going to break my neck. That was her evil plan, wasn’t it?”
Bear didn’t answer, opting to open the passenger door to his SUV. We were taking the motorcade monster. That’s what Kate and Zoe jokingly called it. “Need help?” He held out a hand.
Unfortunately, I did. “You’re going to have to carry me.”
Already my feet hurt. I kicked the shoes off and worked my toes to get the blood flowing to them again.
A few minutes later, he backed into the parking space behind his tattoo shop. The strung lights along the river walk glowed like tiny stars, and the street bustled with people of all types. His shop was still lit, a couple of artists working late, and assisting walk-in traffic should the light and the busy night entice someone in. Bear dragged me through there instead of walking around the buildings.
I barely caught names before he hustled me into the cold again.
“You should be nicer to your employees.”
“We’re late. Ain’t got time to be nice.”
I tripped on a crack. He caught me, then swung me up in his arms to go the meager fifty feet between his shop and the restaurant.
“Put me down!”
The brave few who sat at the tables outside the restaurant turned their heads to gape at my distress.
“Please?” I whispered. We were in public. I stroked his beard so he’d stop being such a caveman and work with me at my pace. Which was seriously hobbled by the damn shoes.
He kissed me before setting me on my feet.
Of course, I wobbled. He slipped an arm around my waist. “Lean on me if you have to.”
Oh, I would.
Like any restaurant, they barely noticed we were five minutes late. Luckily, our table wasn’t given away and we were seated before my toes could start screaming at me again. I slipped the shoes off and dug my toes into the carpet.
Bear smiled across the table as the waiter handed out menus and explained the special. His hand groped under the table until he found my knee.
Two could play that game. I slipped my free foot between his legs and rested my toes against his crotch.
He straightened and covered my foot with his warm palm. I almost groaned aloud as he gave it a squeeze. My eyes did blur a little as the bliss washed through my body. And I missed the waiter’s question.
“Wine, red,” Bear ordered. He motioned to me then back. “Leave the bottle.”
Once the waiter left, I leaned in a little so we wouldn’t be overheard. “This is a date?”
“Of course, woman.”
