first step toward making an effort, and it really did feel nice. We sat in comfortable silence until my plate unceremoniously clattered to the table in front of me. I made sure to note that Coleman’s plate got set down gently in front of him.
After shooting me a glare, our waitress left, and I felt compelled to mention, “You know she probably spit in mine, right?”
A smile lit his handsome face, and without saying anything, he picked up both of our dishes and switched them, setting his down in front of me.
I raised an eyebrow in question, so he responded, “Positive reinforcement, Banty. Training 101. If I want you to repeat your possessive behavior, I have to reward it, not punish it. I think spit filled food would be considered punishment. Therefore...” He let his words drift off, but I got the picture.
“But now your food is potentially spit-filled.” After all, this was only an alleged crime.
He didn’t bother to answer me verbally, but instead, shrugged his shoulders, cut off a piece of his steak, and stuck it in his mouth.
Obviously he wasn’t worried about it, so my thoughts about it stopped there.
Glancing down at my watch, I realized what time it was and that we needed to hurry. “Eat fast. We have to get going. Lots of research to do.”
We finished the rest of the meal in silence, both eating as quickly as our digestive systems would comfortably allow.
As we were paying the bill and standing up to leave, Coleman muttered, “If her spit was the main ingredient in that, I’m gonna have to switch dishes with you more often. It was delicious.”
“That’s gross,” I whispered while scrunching up my nose in disgust.
He just chuckled and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and I let him . Crazy.
We moved to the door, passing our waitress on the way out, and she sent me one last glare for the road. I should probably get used to women hating me. Oh well, nothing new. People in general had been hating me for a few years now.
Coleman pushed the door open and requested, “Just let me get my stuff outta my truck,” squeezing my shoulder as he stepped away.
As he walked away from me, I took the opportunity to watch the way the back of him moved very seriously. He was in his jeans, t-shirt, and boots, like always (not that I was one to talk), and good God , they fit him well.
His jeans formed perfectly to his ass, and he walked the way he did everything else- with ease. The muscles of his back flexed and flirted with me with every step he took.
I was so focused on his back and ass that I almost jumped out of my skin at the sound of a car horn blaring from behind me. “Ahh!”
Whipping around, I saw that I had been standing right behind a car that was trying to back out of its spot to leave. Whoops.
I waved my hand and gave the driver a sheepish shrug, but he continued to give me a hard look.
Oh, I was still in the way! Damn Coleman Cade and his brain fog inducing powers!
“Sorry, geez, sorry,” I muttered as I finally jogged out of their path.
There was a girl in the passenger seat, and as they drove out she looked to Coleman, then back to me and gave me a look that said she understood. She also looked a little jealous.
When the offending car cleared my path, I could see Coleman again, bag slung over his shoulder, smirk on his face, and he was sauntering my way.
“Ready to show me your stuff, Banty?”
My mind was in a dirty place from staring at him, so all I could manage was a confused, “What?”
Biting his lip and shaking his head, he put his hand to my hip, and I almost fainted. Oh my God, I had to get it together or I really would end up getting us freaking killed.
“Your technology, knowledge, chasing skills...your stuff.”
Oh, yeah. Of course that’s what he meant. “Right. Yeah. Let’s go.”
********
We were about an hour into, or halfway through, the rest of our drive after leaving the Eat-N-Go. Coleman had been pretty quiet, mostly just observing me. And that
After shooting me a glare, our waitress left, and I felt compelled to mention, “You know she probably spit in mine, right?”
A smile lit his handsome face, and without saying anything, he picked up both of our dishes and switched them, setting his down in front of me.
I raised an eyebrow in question, so he responded, “Positive reinforcement, Banty. Training 101. If I want you to repeat your possessive behavior, I have to reward it, not punish it. I think spit filled food would be considered punishment. Therefore...” He let his words drift off, but I got the picture.
“But now your food is potentially spit-filled.” After all, this was only an alleged crime.
He didn’t bother to answer me verbally, but instead, shrugged his shoulders, cut off a piece of his steak, and stuck it in his mouth.
Obviously he wasn’t worried about it, so my thoughts about it stopped there.
Glancing down at my watch, I realized what time it was and that we needed to hurry. “Eat fast. We have to get going. Lots of research to do.”
We finished the rest of the meal in silence, both eating as quickly as our digestive systems would comfortably allow.
As we were paying the bill and standing up to leave, Coleman muttered, “If her spit was the main ingredient in that, I’m gonna have to switch dishes with you more often. It was delicious.”
“That’s gross,” I whispered while scrunching up my nose in disgust.
He just chuckled and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and I let him . Crazy.
We moved to the door, passing our waitress on the way out, and she sent me one last glare for the road. I should probably get used to women hating me. Oh well, nothing new. People in general had been hating me for a few years now.
Coleman pushed the door open and requested, “Just let me get my stuff outta my truck,” squeezing my shoulder as he stepped away.
As he walked away from me, I took the opportunity to watch the way the back of him moved very seriously. He was in his jeans, t-shirt, and boots, like always (not that I was one to talk), and good God , they fit him well.
His jeans formed perfectly to his ass, and he walked the way he did everything else- with ease. The muscles of his back flexed and flirted with me with every step he took.
I was so focused on his back and ass that I almost jumped out of my skin at the sound of a car horn blaring from behind me. “Ahh!”
Whipping around, I saw that I had been standing right behind a car that was trying to back out of its spot to leave. Whoops.
I waved my hand and gave the driver a sheepish shrug, but he continued to give me a hard look.
Oh, I was still in the way! Damn Coleman Cade and his brain fog inducing powers!
“Sorry, geez, sorry,” I muttered as I finally jogged out of their path.
There was a girl in the passenger seat, and as they drove out she looked to Coleman, then back to me and gave me a look that said she understood. She also looked a little jealous.
When the offending car cleared my path, I could see Coleman again, bag slung over his shoulder, smirk on his face, and he was sauntering my way.
“Ready to show me your stuff, Banty?”
My mind was in a dirty place from staring at him, so all I could manage was a confused, “What?”
Biting his lip and shaking his head, he put his hand to my hip, and I almost fainted. Oh my God, I had to get it together or I really would end up getting us freaking killed.
“Your technology, knowledge, chasing skills...your stuff.”
Oh, yeah. Of course that’s what he meant. “Right. Yeah. Let’s go.”
********
We were about an hour into, or halfway through, the rest of our drive after leaving the Eat-N-Go. Coleman had been pretty quiet, mostly just observing me. And that
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