Page 76 of Bullet
As she scans the menu, my thumb begins to move along the seam of her jeans on her upper thigh.
“We’re in public,” she says quietly, still looking at the menu.
“I’m not doing anything wrong. Keeping it strictly PG.”
She shoots me a look that says I’m full of shit before setting down the menu.
“Hi, I’m Brit. What can I get you today?”
We place our drink and food orders at the same time. Harlee gives her orders for the shop too, telling her we will need them as we leave.
“I’ll be back with your drinks in a bit,” Brit says before she rushes off.
“I would hate to be a waitress,” Harlee says, making me chuckle.
She narrows her eyes. “What’s so funny?”
“The thought of you being a waitress.”
“What? You think I couldn’t do it?”
“Babe, you would be downright terrible. You like maybe three people, and that’s it. You aren’t a people person at all. All it would take is one person telling you that you got their order wrong and you would flip your shit.”
She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.
“See, even you know I’m not wrong.”
Harlee huffs and changes the subject. “Have you gotten the DNA back yet?”
“No, not yet, but we should soon. Have you talked to her anymore?”
Her shoulder raises. “A little. Nothing too deep or anything. Mostly memes and funny videos we’ve found that we think the other would like. Is it wrong that I don’t want her to be on his side?”
I shake my head. “No, not at all. Hell, even I don’t want her to be the enemy.”
“She and I really got along, and I would hate to have to hate her.”
“Have faith Harlee. I know it might be hard, but it will all work out. Trust me.”
“I do. Trust you, I mean.”
Her admission makes my heart clench.
Fuck yes.
Having trust in a relationship is half the battle. The fact that she trusts me means everything.
“Are you coming over tonight?” she asks.
“I have to go to the clubhouse, but maybe after if it’s not too late.”
“You know it’s never too late for you, right?” she asks softly.
“I’ll text you, and if you’re still awake, I’ll come over. How about that?”
“Sounds good.”
The rest of our lunch goes by with only an interruption from the waitress. Before I know it, I’m dropping her back off at the tattoo shop.
