“Or maybe Tiny’s your life mate and your taste buds, along with your libido, have come back to life like Decker’s did,” Stephanie said dryly.
Mirabeau paused midbite to scowl at the girl, but she couldn’t hold the expression. Her mouth was alive with the wonderful combination of flavors she’d bitten into. Her eyes involuntarily closed as she savored the explosions taking place in her mouth. Chili dogs definitely rocked, she decided, and wondered how it was she’d never had one before.
“Try an onion ring,” Tiny urged, holding a round breaded object out to her.
Mirabeau accepted the odd item, turned it curiously in her hand, sniffed it, and then took a careful bite. Her eyes widened with surprised pleasure as an entirely different flavor filled her senses. Damn, that’s good too, she acknowledged, and smiled when he slid a smaller plate with a mound of rings in front of her. He’d bought two of those as well, she noted.
“How about a chocolate shake?” he said next, and a thick-looking, creamy drink was set before her as well.
This time Mirabeau didn’t hesitate to try the offering and as the cold, creamy, chocolate slid across her tongue and down her throat, she understood what he was doing.
“You’re trying to kill me with pleasure,” she said on a sigh.
“If that were the case, you’d be naked, and I’d be eating this off your supine body,” Tiny growled. He then leaned toward her and licked away a drop of chili that rested on her upper lip.
Mirabeau swallowed thickly, her eyes finding and locking on his until Stephanie groaned, and muttered, “Oh, gross. Get a room.”
Mirabeau saw the chagrin flicker in Tiny’s expression and knew he’d forgotten the girl was there, just as she had for those few seconds. She shared a wry smile with him, then, as if by agreement, they both turned their attention to their food and began to eat, trying to pretend that the moment hadn’t happened.
Unfortunately, Stephanie wouldn’t let it rest, and asked, “Are you two going to get together after you get me to Port Henry, or what?”
Mirabeau gave her a quelling look, but the girl wasn’t willing to be quelled.
“Oh, come on, he’s your life mate, right?” she said, waving a french fry around as she spoke.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Stephanie,” Mirabeau said sharply. “Eat your food. We have to get going.”
“Oh please, even if I couldn’t read your thoughts, anyone could see you two are hot for each other.”
“Enough Stephanie,” Tiny said quietly. “Now eat your food. We’re already very late getting you to Port Henry. We really shouldn’t have stopped here.”
And they shouldn’t have, Mirabeau acknowledged. By now the people in Port Henry had probably called Lucian in a panic that they hadn’t arrived…and there wasn’t a darned thing they could do to reassure them that everything was all right. Mirabeau hadn’t had a cell phone when she’d left the church, and Tiny’s phone had gone missing. He suspected it had been lifted while he was shopping for clothes and food. He’d told her as much as they’d made their way to the SUV in the predawn light.
Mirabeau had considered stopping to use a pay phone to call in, but one of Lucian’s last instructions had been not to make contact in any way but through Tiny’s cell phone unless it was an emergency. He’d said Tiny’s cell was set up specially to be untraceable, while calls from any other phone wouldn’t be. He was determined no one was going to figure out where Stephanie was, and he was the boss, so there was nothing she could do to soothe any worries anyone might be having.
And they would be worried, she thought unhappily. By her guess, between getting lost in the tunnels and their stop at the hotel to clean up and rest, they were probably at least five or six hours behind schedule, which meant they should have arrived in Port Henry about three or four hours ago. Instead, they were half an hour southwest of Toronto, eating quite the most delicious food she’d ever enjoyed in one of the ugliest, dreariest-looking diners she’d ever seen. Tiny had picked it after several hours of Stephanie’s whining that she was hungry. He’d called it a truck stop and said they always had the best food.
Mirabeau had to admit the food was indeed good. They just really shouldn’t have stopped to get it, and had Tiny not been so obviously exhausted from driving all the way up from New York, she would have said so. However, the man had been yawning and wiping his weary eyes for the last hour they’d been on the road, and she’d decided a break was probably smart. She planned to offer to take over driving when they returned to the SUV he’d managed to get them into and get started that morning, all with nothing more than a hanger they’d taken from their room and a screwdriver they’d gotten from the handyman at the hotel. It had been rather impressive to watch him in action. But then he was impressive just to look at, she acknowledged.