Twist My Heart Brooke Taylor (classic books to read .TXT) 📖

was much more helpful at picking out women’s clothes than he realized.

I held the door for Titan to jump into the backseat, closed it, and turned back to Nik. “I guess I’ll give steak and beer a chance, if I can get mine with French fries.”

“One-track mind,” he grumbled.

Stepping up nearly flush with him, I ran my hand over the front of his pants, feeling the jump of his cock against my palm and the responding flash of warmth through my own pelvic region. “Not even close to one.”

His grip flashed to my wrist. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Trying to make you feel as good as you made me.”

“Not in the damn mall parking lot,” he hissed, practically catapulting me into the Jeep.

As he got into the driver’s seat, beads of sweat glinted along his hairline and he seemed to have incredible discomfort sitting.

“If not the mall parking lot, then where?”

His eyes widened incredulously at me. Was he mad? Shocked?

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not shy, are you?”

“I don’t know what I am.” I looked down. The hardest part of my memory loss wasn’t about memories at all, it was not knowing if I was saying or doing the right thing. “Should I be shy?”

“No,” he snapped. In a softer tone, he added, “Not with me. Never with me. I shouldn’t have said that. You just surprise me, too.”

“But you don’t want me to touch you?”

“Hell, yes, I do.”

I was so confused.

He opened his hand, holding it over the console until I laced my fingers with his. “When we get home, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, promise. My body can be your wonderland. But right now, I need to pay attention.”

His serious demeanor had me sitting back a bit. “Is everything okay?”

“Let’s go eat, see if anyone wants to join us.”

His hand eased out of mine to put his sunglasses on. Even so, I noted his eyes flicking every so often to the side mirrors as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“Wait, what is going on?” I craned my head around to look out of the back window as he maneuvered onto the main road. “Who would be joining us?”

“Keep your eyes forward.”

I reluctantly complied. “Did you see someone? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Probably nothing.” He scrubbed the back of his neck. “Just a feeling I get when things are about to go sideways.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

I blinked entering the darkened steakhouse. Heavy curtains hid the windows, which Nik grumbled about. It took a minute for him to convince the hostess to seat us at the table he preferred. After she’d handed us our menus and returned to the hostess stand, he grumbled, “Must be her first day. The place is almost empty and she wanted to stick us in a sucky booth by the bathrooms. Besides, I need a sightline to the door and access to a quick route out.”

A quick route out?

“If you’re worried, maybe we should go somewhere else?”

Or get back home.

“Oh no, we’re doing this,” he said in a tone more serious than any I’d ever heard from him. “It’s bone-in ribeye day.”

Bone-in ribeye day? As if that made getting hauled off to prison or worse all okay.

“And I’m not worried. I’m being proactive. There’s a difference.”

Between the conversation in the car and this, my appetite had been replaced with anger at her for putting us in this position. Why couldn’t we have a meal without needing an escape plan?

A leggy girl with a gorgeous mane of dark brown hair showed up in tiny, white shorts and an equally undersized black tank top that read ‘Bone Me!’ She informed us that her name was Kinley. Nik questioned her about beers on tap then ordered us two pale ales from a local brewery and two specials—his with steamed vegetables, mine with fries. “How do you want yours cooked, ma’am?”

“Medium?” It’d been a safe way to start with clothing. I glanced at Nik.

“If you enjoy eating boot leather, sure.”

Kinley laughed. Not outright. More through her nose, like a snort. Another reminder I was the only one here who didn’t know how to order a steak.

“Start with medium rare,” Nik suggested.

“Medium rare it is.”

“And dressing?”

“For my steak?” Doesn’t dressing go with turkey?

Kinley made a show of cocking her hip as she peeled her gaze from Nik to me. “For your salad.”

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it came with a salad.” I beamed at her, smiling wide. Probably a little too wide. I didn’t care. I knew this! Clapping my hands, I announced, “Ranch! I want ranch dressing on mine.”

She smirked down at me like a mother at the mall had to her toddler. I half-expected Kinley to shove a tissue under my nose and command me to blow. Perhaps give me a little pat on my head if I got enough snot out. Instead, she reached in for my menu and hugged it in front of her. She turned to Nik, her cleavage suddenly resembling a baby’s butt shimmying down her shirt. “And for you, sir?”

“Rare and honey mustard.” Oblivious to Kinley’s cleavage mooning him, Nik studied me as he swiped his thumb across his lower lip. “And an extra-large side of ranch for her to dip her fries in, please.”

My smile went so wide I could feel the overhead fan blowing on my gums. How did I manage to get swooped up in a tornado and land in the most capable arms of the most gorgeous and brilliant man on earth? Then, as if brilliance transferred via lightning bolt from him to me, “What about bacon dipped in ranch dressing?”

“If it makes you smile at me like that again, you can dip anything you want in it. Preferably me.”

With a slight huff, Kinley announced, “The ranch will cost extra.”

“Not a problem. I’ll double your tip if she never runs out.”

“Right. Anything else I can get for you?”

Leaning back in his chair, Nik flashed the shy dimple on his right cheek. Oh, the