“I can’t. I can’t.” I closed my eyes, settled both hands on my chest, fingers of one resting on the others, and started breathing deeply with exaggeration.
He wrapped a foot around the back of my ankle, and lifted it until he could catch it with his hand between his splayed legs.
My eyes popped open.
Since I was wearing a pair of low-heeled mules in fake-fur leopard print, it was easy for him to slip the mule off so the ball of my foot was oh so close to another set of balls.
With both hands, he started massaging my ankle and calf.
“As good as that feels, it’s important I note that isn’t how you’re supposed to play footsie, Augustus Hero.”
He shot a glamorous smile at me.
I kept blathering.
“It’s also important to note that providing me with a massage will, indeed, get me to shut up and stop giving you shit about something. However, it is one thousand percent not going to be conducive to me doing my part in practicing restraint. To wit, if you think you can sit across from me, all hot, sexy and tactile, I think it’s fair to warn you that you will get jumped somewhere between the parking lot and my front door.”
He kept smiling at me.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” I whispered.
His smile froze as did his fingers.
“Aug?” I called.
He put my shoe back on, squeezed my ankle, and gently shoved my foot down, saying in a way he was trying to be humorous, but his heart wasn’t in it, “We both need you doing your part.”
I placed my foot on the floor but leaned into the table.
“You should know, I know a little bit about how women screwed you over, and we’re not talking Marie. We’re talking the others who did fucked-up shit because you’re all that’s…” I threw a hand up between us, indicating him, “you.”
“Pepper—”
I cut him off and asked, “When I haven’t been giving you an in, why didn’t you find someone else?”
That question appeared to perplex him. “Sorry?”
“You said I was your last.”
“You were,” he confirmed.
“Why?”
Now he started to look annoyed. “Not every guy needs to fuck everything that moves.”
“Of course not, but—”
“And I wanted in.”
I shut up.
Auggie didn’t.
“I didn’t know until recently that your ex did what he did. But you were aware I wanted you. Does it say to you, ‘I want to give us a go’ when I’m fucking some other chick?”
No.
It did not.
“No,” I said quietly.
“Ryn wasn’t ready, and Boone moved on, and that nearly fucked them up. Hattie really wasn’t ready, and Axl moved on, and that nearly fucked them up. You weren’t ready. And I wasn’t going to do dick to fuck up the possibility of an us.”
Oh my God.
I was going to start bawling in El Tejado.
“Pepper?”
I waved a hand in front of my face and demanded, “Cease speaking immediately.”
He looked concerned, then he started to look cocky.
Fortunately, the second look eased my need to start bawling.
That need totally evaporated when he announced, “You do know, if we work, by definition through this being our first away-from-your-kitchen-island date, El Tejado is going to be our place.”
I flopped against the booth and tipped my head back to say to the ceiling, “Why do you challenge me so, sweet Lord?”
I only righted myself when I heard Auggie chuckling.
“Just to point out,” I went on, “it’s awesome here.”
“Glad you think so.”
Glad you think so.
On a repeat of these words, I got deadly serious.
“And you’re gorgeous, Auggie. I know that opened the door to bitches treating you like shit, but it doesn’t make it less true. They’re just bitches. And you’re just awesome. And they fucked up big time. And although what Lottie said they did totally sucked, and I hate that for you, I hate that you went through that. I’m still glad it means I’m sitting right here, across from you. Because you’re not only gorgeous, you’re the bee’s knees. And I’m a big idiot for wasting months I could have been with you. But I’m okay with that too, because I’m sitting here, across from you.”
After I finished that, I sat very still because Auggie did too.
But he did it with an expression on his face and a vibe emanating off him that, frankly, it was a miracle our table didn’t melt from between us.
He then said, “The bee’s knees?”
“Totally,” I replied.
“Christ, you’re cute.”
To get us fully out of the intense, I fake preened, fluffing my hair on one side, the whole shebang, saying, “Why, thank you.”
“You’re also a huge dork.”
“Another thing of note, honey, calling me a dork does not lessen my need to jump you.”
He burst out laughing.
I smiled at him as he did it.
When he was done, I remarked, “Now let’s talk about how deep our relief is that there wasn’t a feather or moccasin to be seen in Mr. Sykes’s plans for the Turkey Day show.”