Sinner's Revenge(42)

Not wanting to visit that dark place again, I decide to shut her up. “My mother is dead.” This time, I level her with a look. Her face falls and I almost feel guilty.

She clears her throat, but doesn’t apologize. Instead, she changes the subject. “So, where we going?”

“McDonalds,” I say, feeling my dark mood lift at her expression.

“Funny. Real fucking funny.”

“I’m not lying. And since you took the time to get so pretty for me, I’m thinking I might even take you inside.” I look over at her smiling, surprised to find her blushing.

“You think I’m pretty?” Is she serious? This is a girl whose ego got more strokes than my cock. Trying to keep from killing us, I glance back to the road for a split second before looking at her again. The blush is still there. And she looks shy. What the fuck? I didn’t call her “pretty girl” to be a dick. I meant it.

“Diem, come on. Really?”

“What? You’ve never told me. And you’ve seen me at my worst, so I can’t imagine how bad that vision scarred you.” She’s so vain. Maybe that’s why she didn’t call anyone to help her. She didn’t want them to see her at less than her best. I guess she’s past caring if I see her that way. The thought is unsettling, but for some reason I kinda like it.

“Yes,” I say on a sigh. “I think you’re pretty.” There. I’d said it.

“Thanks, Zeke.” Her voice is barely audible, and there is true appreciation in her tone. It softens me. Maybe she did need to hear it a little more. But I know that the truth is she really just needed to hear it from me. And from now on, she will.


* * *

I’m a steak and potato kind of man. Diem is probably more of a duck and lamb kind of woman. So I made sure to find somewhere that wasn’t too ritzy, but still classy with a good menu. The Granite Restaurant in Concord had both of these things, and a bar. There was no use in searching for anything else.

Diem straightens her skirt as she gets out. I’m glad she didn’t expect me to open her door, but I do hold it open as we walk in, then put my hand on the small of her back and guide her to the bar. She doesn’t complain about us not getting a table, and I’m starting to think that maybe this date might not be so shitty after all.

When I order a glass of wine, she gives me a strange look. “What? It’s good with steak,” I argue in my defense. But I feel like I might have just become a little less manly in her eyes. Not that I give a shit. I’ve defended her honor before by knocking out two guys. If that wasn’t enough to prove I wasn’t a pussy, I don’t know what is.

“I’ll take a Seven and Seven,” she tells the bartender, shooting me another unsure look. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

Grabbing her chair, I slide her closer to me before whispering “I’m the man who fucked you until you couldn’t move.” I feel her body ignite at my response and smile. “Do you need a reminder?”

Taking a long pull from her drink, she shakes her head. Well I’ll be damned. I’ve rendered her speechless. That’s a first.

“What are you eating?” I ask, sliding the menu over to her.

“Do they have burgers?”

My face falls at her question. “Are you fucking serious?”

She winks, letting me know she isn’t. “I think I’m going to get the filet. And maybe the salmon. Oooh,” she says, getting excited. “And maybe the trout.”

“All of it?” She must be joking.

Glaring at me, I know she’s not. I really can’t believe a thing she says. I have to wait and look at her face to know if she’s telling the truth. “Yes, all of it,” she snaps. “Don’t worry. If you can’t afford it, I’ll just pawn one of my flashy diamond bracelets or put it on my daddy’s card.” Here we go. “Or maybe I’ll sell these six-thousand-dollar heels.”

I stop her there, holding my hand up to shush her. “Did you say six-thousand-dollar heels?”

She nods. “Yeah. I have a thing for shoes.”

I groan. I’d definitely be fucking her in them tonight. Something about knowing how much money it cost her just to dig them into my ass makes it a little more erotic. “Look,” I say, defeated. I can’t take any more. The shoes have just floored me. “Order anything you want. Hell, order everything. I don’t give a shit. But whatever you do . . .” I give her a look of warning before dropping my voice. “Don’t take off them heels.”

“See?” She smiles. “It feels good to appreciate the finer things in life. But seriously, I’ll just bang the busboy if you can’t afford the bill.”