Banger’s Ride(194)
“Are you asking me on a date?”
“No, I’m not. I’m asking if you want to get a steak.” What the hell is she talking about? I never fuckin’ date.
“Sorry to inform you, but that’s called a date.”
“No, it isn’t. Do you want to go, or not?”
“Are you asking anyone else to go with us?”
“No.”
“Are you paying?”
“Yeah. What kind of question is that?”
“You’re asking me to a restaurant, right?”
“Yeah. What’s with the cross-examination, counselor?”
“It’s a date. You’re asking me on a date,” Cara said smugly, her green eyes sparkling.
He looked hard at her. She’s an impossible woman. “Okay, it’s a date. Do you fuckin’ want to go, or not?”
“Yes, I’d love to go,” she replied, smiling.
“You’re too much, woman. All this bullshit for a steak. Shit.”
Cara giggled.
* * *
The Buckhorn Steakhouse served the best steak in the county, and although it was expensive, it was well worth the price for its melt-in-your-mouth dishes. Linen tablecloths and napkins, rich burgundy leather booths, cherry hardwood floors, lavish Karastan rugs, and two wood-burning fireplaces created an elegant ambiance. After a cold ride on the motorcycle, Cara and Hawk welcomed the warmth of the crackling fire as they entered the restaurant.
Asking for a window seat, the hostess escorted them to a table replete with a shimmering candle encased in crystal. The breathtaking view included the snow-capped peaks of the majestic Rocky Mountains, which signaled winter was right around the corner.
After ordering a beer on draft for him and a vodka martini for Cara, Hawk brought her hand to his mouth and brushed it over his lips then licked and kissed it as he held her gaze. His blue eyes revealed a level of tenderness she had not seen before, and her heart skipped a few beats. Was that love in his eyes? Holding her breath, she bit her lower lip as she averted her eyes to two women seated at the table across from them. The women, in their early twenties, ogled Hawk. They’re practically drooling. Hawk, oblivious to everyone but her, caressed Cara’s cheek with his palm. She blushed.
“Why are you acting shy, babe?”
“I don’t know. I guess the vibes you’re giving me are different, that’s all.”
“I’m glad to be with you.”
“On our date?”
“Yeah, on our date.”
She stroked his hand. “Me, too.”
Her filet mignon with roasted asparagus spears in a balsamic sherry glaze was excellent; there wasn’t a morsel left on her plate. His Porterhouse steak was enough for a family of four, but he managed to eat every bit of it including the sautéed mushrooms in red wine and the blue cheese scalloped potatoes.
As Cara was drinking her after-dinner liqueur, she noticed Hawk’s gaze focused at the bar. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.”
He glanced over a few more times. “Hawk, are you checking out a woman at the bar?”
“No.”
“Who are you looking at?” Twisting around, she expected to see a knockout with big boobs on a barstool.
“Babe, I’m looking at that pansy-ass you went out with. He’s got his tongue halfway down one of my dancers’ throat.”
“Luke?”
“Yeah, that fuckin’ suit.”
Looking toward the bar, Luke’s mouth covered the woman’s who sat on the barstool next to his. He looked like one of those creatures from a cheesy 1950s sci-fi movie. When she was a kid, she and her dad used to watch reruns of the campy movies, and she loved to sit in the dark, eat popcorn her dad had made, and watch the alien monsters devour their victims. Yeah, Luke looked like the Creature—the one with the vacuum mouth who sucked salt from its victims.
God, Luke is such a jerk. Cara hadn’t spoken to him since the charity ball, and didn’t even care that he had his tongue down the stripper’s mouth and his hand up her skirt. He’s such an asshole.
“I told you he was a pansy-ass,” Hawk said.
“You were right. I was never interested in him, anyway.”
“You’re too hot, babe. You need a man to stoke the fire in you,” he said, his voice husky.
On their way out, Hawk guided Cara past Luke. Hawk said, “How are you, Missy?”
Missy pushed Luke away, startled to see Hawk. “Fine, thanks.”
“Who’s your friend?” he asked.
Luke, recognizing Hawk, scowled.
“What’s your name again, darlin’?” she asked Luke.
“He knows who I am,” Luke said, ignoring Hawk.
“Oh, yeah, it’s pansy-ass.” Hawk’s eyes dared Luke to start something with him.