The blast from a truck’s horn, which sounds more like a freight train right behind us makes me jump an inch off the seat.
I bite my lip and the inside of my cheek, wincing in pain and making a startled, unsexy, killing the moment sound as I notice Kane’s face darkening too.
Pushing the intercom button in the center console, Kane growls through to his drive, “What seems to be the problem?”
“Sorry Sir, we’re double parked and this truck-”
But he lets the button go, lets the concern go from his face too, and he holds mine in his hand, asking me if I’m alright again.
“I’ll be alright, I bit my lips though… and my cheek… Shall we go in for coffee then?” I ask, not even wanting to move away from him for a minute.
“Do you really want to go in for coffee?” he asks, reading my mind and I feel his hand over mine, guiding it to his thigh.
I’m shaking my head in the negative, and we try again for that kiss.
There’s no horn blasting, but a terrible pounding on the window right behind me, like something crashed against it. I jump in my seat again and this time Kane’s not amused.
He’s up and out of his seat in two seconds before I can even catch my breath.
The driver of the truck’s gotten out and decided to have it out with whoever’s in the limo in front of him.
Bad idea.
I’m trying to get out of my side, craning my head to see what’s happening, but I can’t get the door open.
I’m beginning to wonder, in a split second of panic, if maybe this Kane guy is a little unhinged, this is twice in as many hours he’s gone off his rocker.
It’s because he’s with me though. I know it’s because of me.
He’s protecting you, silly. He’s being a real man…
Scooting over to his side, I get out of the car and see Kane walking towards the huge truck driver, who’s not quite as tall as Kane, but looks like he knows how to look after himself.
“The fuck, asshole? Can’t your driver read? This is a loading zone, fuckface… go park your money someplace else, some of us have to work for a living.”
Kane looks over to me, I know he wants me to get back in the car, but I can’t help it. I need to see what’s going on.
“What the fuck are you looking at, porky?” The truck driver calls over to me, and I see Kane getting all puffed up again, like he did with Marco.
His driver comes out and steps in between the two of them, not even trying to hold Kane back, but leaning in to say something to the trucker.
Trucker guy stops and goes quiet real quick, his face going a shade of gray. Then a tinge of green.
“I… I’m sorry Mr. Barret… I didn’t know… I only…”
Looking over at the truck I can see the name Barret Industries in huge letters on the front and on the sides. One of those signs under the bumper, inviting other drivers to call and tell Barret Industries just how well their drivers are doing today.
Not so good today, it seems.
Kane looks over to me again, then back to the trucker, who’s almost in tears by this stage. Seems he really wants to keep his job, as well as his teeth.
Kane’s driver is having some words with the truck driver, then Kane steps over, his hand firmly on the man’s shoulder, leaning in to say something himself.
Seconds later, I have a very red-faced but genuine apology from the man for speaking to me the way he did.
“I’m sorry, Miss. It shouldn’t matter who you’re with today, and I’m not just sayin’ that ‘cos he’s standing over there. I was an asshole just now and I apologize.”
I give him a small nod, I feel for the guy. I know what it’s like to lose your cool and your job in the same moment, but I also know Kane’s not going to ruin this guy’s life over it.
Kane leads me over to the canopy of the hotel, still snarling a bit but happy to see me smiling about something for a change.
“I think coffee’s a great idea now, don’t you?” I suggest, and we go through the huge hotel lobby to a fancy bistro. The type I would never even think about walking into.
“I think you have to be a guest to sit here,” I warn Kane, who finally brightens his mood.
“Or the owner,” he says, winking at me, and I shudder again as he places his hand on my back, helping me into a seat by the window. One that doesn’t have a view of his limo parked out front.
I feel awkward again. It’s too much for me to take in.
How can one guy be so rich, and why the hell would he be interested in me?
“Because you’re real, Trudi. You’re no BS,” he says, reading my mind as he unfolds a napkin for himself, considering the menu but then asking if he can just order for us both.
“I haven’t eaten yet… I’m pretty hungry,” he says and I’m still sitting with my mouth open, amazed at how he can know what I’m even thinking.
I bet he can’t tell everything I’m thinking, and I jump, feeling his hand on my knee under the table.
“I can guess most of what you’re thinking, but for now, we need to eat,” he says, giving me another of his sultry winks and a sly grin.
The waiter appears, then disappears and food, lots of it with hot coffee and what looks like half the restaurant arrives on a series of trolleys in moments.
Everything’s so fresh, hot and most of all, delicious.
I want to feel awkward about not paying, about having no money. But something in Kane’s eyes tells me that I’d better get used to this sort of thing if we’re going to have fun today.
CHAPTER EIGHT
