There was nothing back. He waited with a frown. Was he moving too fast for her?
Yes.
All right. Short and to the point.
Good.
He thought of where he could take her then rattled off the name of a restaurant and a time.
Wnt me 2 pick u up?
I will meet you there. Thank you.
It irritated him for some reason and he told himself to chill. It was sensible of her. She shouldn’t give her address to just anyone.
But she trusted him with her wellbeing at the club. She’d opened up to him. And he wanted more. He wanted it all.
Easy, man. You’ll get there.
Because Ink had made a decision. She was going to be his.
She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She’d said yes to the date without consulting Kit or Forrest first. But she knew Kit was getting all the messages so if he wanted to stop it, he could.
And they were the ones who wanted her to get close to him.
Nerves filled her. She’d put on a black, wrap dress. It was an older one, one of the few things in her wardrobe that still fit her. It gave her a boost of courage for what she was going to do.
She was dropped off a block away from the restaurant. It wasn’t Kit driving the car tonight, but Ranulf. At least it wasn’t Thing One or Two.
She swallowed heavily at the thought of what might have happened this morning if Kit hadn’t come along. She’d woken up this morning with bruises on her thigh from Forrest’s tight grip last night, and on her neck from Thing Two, but they were faint so she’d been able to cover them up with make-up.
“Remember, there are eyes and ears on you. Meet you back out here when you’re finished.”
She gave a nod to show she’d heard Ranulf then climbed out of the car. She used the short walk to try and calm herself.
She carried a small bag, one that Ranulf had checked before allowing her into the car. All that was inside was some lipstick and a compact mirror.
She had to hope that Ink would pay as she hadn’t been given any cash. Luckily, Ranulf hadn’t inspected her bag too carefully. She’d chosen this handbag because it had a secret compartment.
Inside the compartment, she’d hidden the note that she’d written. She just needed to get this message to Ink. Then he’d be gone from her life.
And she’d no longer have his safety on her conscience.
Or his presence in her life.
She had to shake off her dark thoughts. She would miss their time together. More than she’d ever thought possible.
Walking into the bistro, she hoped that she was appropriately dressed. The smell of garlic made her stomach rumble. She gave her name to the short woman who approached, following her towards the back of the restaurant. This restaurant had a real charm about it with its small, round tables and booths, covered in red and white checkered tablecloths. There were a number of families in the booths, their kids laughing and playing.
A pang filled her. Loneliness. Sadness over what could never be.
Then she saw him. He was sitting at the last booth, with his back to the wall. When he saw her approaching, he slid out and stood.
She paused for a moment, unused to such manners. Mama had always lectured at her about how she should behave. Had forced her to sit for hours when she’d get one nuance of etiquette wrong. She’d also gone on about how a gentleman should treat a lady. By opening doors. By walking on the outside of the pavement. By standing when she approached.
Ink didn’t fit the description of a gentleman. Even wearing a shirt he was too raw, too masculine. His tattoos peeked up above the neckline of the shirt and ran down his hands. She’d been intimidated by him when she’d first seen him.
But she knew that a civilized veneer could hide the most hideous of monsters.