“Are you sure about that?” I couldn’t help but toy with her.
She wanted to be here just as much as I wanted her here. I wasn’t going to let her forget that. Especially when she looked so damn hot in that tight little black number. And open back did wonders for her.
I bet she tasted better than any drive-thru pie I’d ever had.
This had to be the fanciest restaurant in all of Billings, Montana. I wrapped the scarf that went with my borrowed dress around my shoulders. It was blustery out. The wind whipped through my hair as I stepped out onto the cold concrete.
I watched the valet as he drove away, taking Wyatt’s muscle car for what I assumed had to have been the most boring ride of its life. I grinned when I remembered the wild look in the kid’s eyes.
It was going to take all his self-control not to rev the engine. I could see it in his eyes.
I had a feeling we might get it back with an extra few miles on it.
“You do this on purpose, don’t you? Just to torture the poor valet,” I said as I walked alongside Wyatt.
“You mean I intentionally bring a muscle car to a place where someone who is barely old enough to drive has to pretend like they aren’t drooling over it?” he asked, grinning.
He must’ve seen the same thing I did.
“I’m surprised you didn’t point at him and say ‘not a scratch,’” I giggled. I actually giggled. Ugh. I needed to stop that.
“I’m not that old, yet,” he protested as he put his hand on the small of my waist and pulled me through the entrance.
I’d forgotten how easily conversation could flow between the two of us. And how sexy he looked in a suit. I spent most of the night trying to ignore it, but now that we were both walking in towards a group of unknown people I couldn’t help but notice.
Just like I couldn’t help but notice the way he was staring at me. I was caught in his sights, like an innocent doe and there was nothing I could do about it.
Except run and let him give chase.
“May I help you, sir?” the host asked as we walked in. This was easy for him. Talking to these people, acting like be belonged.
Because he did. I only thought I belonged. I only pretended. Wyatt Graves was the real deal. And it made me realize just how foreign his world was to me.
“Yes, I’m here with the Graves party,” he said as he pulled me in close.
I should’ve moved away, but my body was doing everything my brain told it not to. Every time I thought my body should inch away from him, it inched closer. Every time I wanted to tell him I needed to go home, I kept my mouth shut.
It was like I was creating my own prison and Wyatt Graves was the number one guard on duty. A sexy one I should’ve kept my hands off.
“Father, so good to see you,” Wyatt said as we approached them. His lips were thin and his expression was forced. I’d never seen him like this before.
All the ease of his speech left him, but it didn’t matter. We were there and there was a number of people looking up at us. The group turned and looked at us, smiling and giving pleasantries.
Everyone but his father.
“Wyatt. I see you decided to show after all. Unfortunately we’ve already made it through the main course. But I’m happy you caught desert.” His father shot him a glance I could only identify as irritation as we took our seats.
He’d already had his desert, I doubt he wanted seconds, but I was starving. I’d eat an entire cake in front of all of them. I didn’t care. I had no pride when it came to the hunger pains clutching at my stomach. I ordered two desserts and didn’t even look sheepish about it.
The added bonus was that it would keep me from having to interact with any of them.
“Your father was telling me that you were looking to expand the land for the business? And that you are considering soy?” One of the men asked. They got right into business.
“I’ve been systematically growing soy in the rotation over the last couple of years, but I think soy and beets are the way to go. More companies use soy and beet sugar in their products these days then they do other forms, and while corn will always be strong, some people are turning away from corn syrup,” he explained.
I tried not to let my eyes glaze over, but they did. It was not my choice of conversation and the idea that our food was mass produced in factories was something I didn’t want to think about. I just kept a pleasant smile through most of the conversation.
He was right though. It was good food and boring conversation. I almost fell asleep right at the table.
“I want to talk to you, before you leave,” his father said finally, when people started to pay their bills and make their way out of the restaurant.