I kept laughing longer than I probably should have due to the man that was hunkered over his table now, beating on it with a big meaty fist.
Even the man that was eating with him, Baylor Hail, looked like he was trying hard not to die of laughter.
But my date saw me laughing, and got mad.
To show his anger, he picked up his plate and threw it at me.
The contents of his plate landed on my shirt. The plate itself knocked me in the head where I’d run into a ladder not even twelve hours before.
And the feeling of blood running down my forehead was almost immediate.
That’s when Tate Casey stopped laughing.
I placed my hand to my forehead, brought my fingers away, and saw the blood there.
Wincing, I reached for the stack of napkins and pressed it to my forehead while also standing.
Tate drug my date out by his collar, opened the front door of the best taco shop in Hostel, and threw the little punk outside. Immediately he closed the door, turned around, and surveyed the room.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “You had a trash problem.”
I bit my lip to keep the snort from escaping.
Tate saw and walked toward me.
His large fist came to my chin, lifted it up and to the side, and stared at my face.
“Move the napkins.”
I did.
“I think you’ll live.”
I nodded.
My entire body felt like it was floating with his nearness.
He smelled like mint, tacos, and beer.
Three of my favorite things in the world, all rolled into one.
“I will,” I agreed, looking up into his eyes.
His gaze met mine, and everything seemed to stand still.
The room around us went silent. Despite being in the middle of a tiny, hole in the wall taco shop, it felt like we were the only two people on the planet.
I wanted him to drop his mouth to mine and kiss me. I wanted him to wrap me up in his big, muscular arms. I wanted to smell his scent around me as we made love. I wanted…
“Go home, girl,” he said, dropping his fist, as well as the connection that we’d formed.
My entire heart fell.
“I am.” I paused to pick up my purse and pull out my wallet at the same time keeping the napkins on my forehead.
I didn’t accomplish this, mostly because the man that was at my side pulled me away before I could accomplish my task.
“I got it.”
“But…”
He dropped two twenties down onto the table. It was more than enough to cover the two meals, as well as my sweet tea.
Generous and hot.
I liked it.
“Go. Home.”
I bit my lip and walked away, trying not to notice how everyone stared at me.
Because if I had paid attention, I might’ve seen Tate making sure that I was okay, and watching every single movement…of my ass.
Chapter 10
I may not be everyone’s cup o’ tea, but I’m too busy enjoying my beer to give a shit.
-Text from Tate to Hennessy
Hennessy
That morning, I had no idea that I was about to be a bad, bad girl.
All I knew was that I was dressing up, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was doing it only for him.
“Are you sure that you want to do this?”
I was Facetiming with my best friend, and she was shaking her head.
“I’m sure,” I said, fastening the corset. “I’m sure that I need to wear this.”
I wasn’t sure why.
Maybe just the need to don body armor, to make myself feel pretty despite the fact that I’d never cross that line between patient and medical professional.
One could daydream, though.
“At least wear a shirt over it that makes it to where you can’t see it,” she said. “And for God’s sake, if you’re going to wear stockings, make sure the skirt is long enough to hide them.”
I grinned and held up my long pencil skirt that I’d just bought yesterday on the way home from work.
“I’m so proud that you’re growing up,” she admitted, smiling at my first purchase without her. “But you need to be careful, here. I don’t think your judgement can be trusted when it comes to Tate Casey.”
I wasn’t sure it could either.
He’d always been my weakness.
“It’ll be okay,” I told her. “He has exactly eight more weeks of time left with me. That’s sixteen more visits. I can do it.”
I hoped.
“All right.” She sighed. “If you need anything today, call me. I know you have a full schedule.”
I did.
Tate was my first appointment at eight thirty. Then I had a full patient load until four that afternoon, when I had a doctor’s appointment for my yearly vagina check.
I literally wouldn’t have time to eat until I got home at six or so tonight.
I’d overbooked myself, but honestly, I was okay with that.
At first, I hadn’t thought that Hostel would benefit from having a psychologist in town. I’d been surprised, though, when on my first day of being open, the judge had declared that any referrals needed from the county jail would now be on my plate.
From there, it’d just spiraled, and I now had a full patient load.
I was making money, and paying off stuff that I thought would take years to pay off.
“Will do, friend,” I said, smiling at Krisney. “What are you doing today?”
She grimaced. “I have to call a tow. My car broke down.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but she interrupted me. “No, I don’t need a ride. I’m at home today, and have no plans to go anywhere. I just need it fixed, and the easiest way to do that is by having someone come get it and take it to the mechanic.”
I shut it just as fast.
Before she hung up she yelled, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
Then there was nothing but dead air in my ear.
Sighing, I yanked the corset off, reached for a simple white V-neck camisole, paired it with the new skirt I’d bought yesterday, and settled with simple flats, and a soft, baby blue cardigan.
Once I was as dressed as I was going to get, I went to the bathroom and started on the makeup.
I didn’t know how to do makeup—that was Krisney’s forte.
However, I gave it my best shot, and ended up with lip gloss, mascara, and a light gray color of eyeshadow that had glitter in it shading my eyelids.
It was very simple, but it helped my pale white skin look less ghost-like, and more presentable.
I’d just stepped out of my house and locked the door when I looked over at the house across the street and the breath stalled in my lungs.
Tate was there, standing beside his bike, staring at something. Something that I couldn’t see, but he was definitely interested in.
My brows furrowed as I took the steps down the walk, and then I tripped over a large book that was on the ground.
“You Need Jesus,” I read aloud. “I need Jesus?”
“You got one, too?”
My eyes went from the book lying on the ground, to the man that was now straddling his motorcycle.
“You mean the ‘You Need Jesus’ book that was on my front walk?”
He nodded.
“Then yes, I got one, too.” I smiled, trying not to seem too overly eager to talk to him.
I wanted to lay my head against his chest and listen to the rumble of it while he spoke, but that would probably be one of those patient/doctor boundaries that I probably shouldn’t cross.