Pan's Salvation (Dueling Devils 5)
Page 46
“What is Peter Pan but a fool for his Wendy?”
Her mouth formed an O.
The brunette waitress appeared, saving them from drowning in awkward silence. “Hey guys, can I get you started with something to drink?”
“Whatever lager you have on tap for me and for her?”
“Water with lemon, please,” she said.
Coming right up darling. My name is Rachel and I’ll be taking care of y' all tonight. It’s getting pretty busy, so I ask that you bear with me.”
“Take your time, we’re in no rush,” Pan said.
Rachel flashed him a grateful smile before she disappeared into the crowd.
“Why?”
“Why what?” Pan asked.
“Why me?”
He turned the question back around. “Why not?”
She paused. “Because it’s never me.”
“You never had a chance to let it be about you before. “
“You understand?”
“You know my story, little bird. Different faces, scenarios and backgrounds, but the same insurmountable weight on our shoulders.”
She reached across the table and placed her smaller hand on top of his. “And do you feel free?”
“With you I do.”
“Why?”
“Maybe our roles are reversed and you’re the one with the pixie dust and happy thoughts. I was laid pretty damn low until you showed up and broke my fucking nose.”
She cringed. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
He laughed. “Shit, I’m not. You came on the scene with a bang and I literally saw stars.”
“You’re never going to let me live that down.”
“You changed me forever, little bird.” He winked and ran his finger down the side of his nose.
“Yeah well, don’t expect me to get Pan forever tattooed.”
“I’d never expect that little bird. It’s Hartley or nothing.”
She rolled her eyes and the ice was broken. They were both wary and a little fucked, any movement forward, he would count as a triumph. Conversation was light and casual. He watched her squirm in her chair. The hunter woke within him. The Ben Wa Balls were doing their job. He tossed enough money for a healthy tip on the counter and stood. “I want to show you the outside.
Are you game?”
“Yes.”
The relief she showed at the thought of movement made him hide a chuckle. If she only knew, moving will make it worse.