Dirty Toe Drag (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 6)

“My English teacher would tell you that you can’t use because twice in the same sentence,” Emery teases, and I glare.

“Don’t you have homework or something to do?”

“This is a Shakespeare play live. I’m good.”

Wes laughs, but Dad says, “If he respects Aiden, I feel he should have told him before he started dating you.”

I glare. “Why, when we weren’t sure if we wanted to pursue this?”

“She’s got you there again. Man, Stella is on a roll,” Emery says, and Dad snaps his head toward her.

“Go to your room.”

“Dad!”

“Emery, go,” Mom says softly, and then she smiles at us. “We won’t say a word. Enjoy your night.”

“I appreciate that,” Wes says, taking my hand in his. “Ready?”

Of course, Dad isn’t done. Before I can agree, Dad says, “Her curfew is nine.”

“Dad!”

“Lucas!”

“What? Nine is realistic.”

“I can have her back—”

“Absolutely not,” I scold him. “I don’t have a curfew because I’m an adult and you trust me.”

“She’s got you there again, Dad. You always say you trust her more than the boys and me!” Emery yells from the hall, and Dad glares back at her.

“Y’all go. I’ll handle your dad, and you know to send me a text if anything changes.”

“I know,” I say, kissing her cheek and then my dad’s, even though he is acting a fool. “Love you, Dad.”

He gives me a look, but he doesn’t hold it for long. “Love you. I’m watching you, Wesley.”

“Yes, sir,” Wes says, sending him a kind smile. “I promise she’s in good hands.”

“Yeah. I don’t want her in your hands.”

With that, I push Wes out the door, but Emery’s laughter follows us, loud and boisterous.

Once the door is shut, I look up at him. “I’m going to pick you up from now on.”

He laughs as he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me in. “But I’d miss all the fun.”

“They are crazy.”

“They are awesome,” he says, kissing my nose. “And you are beyond magnificent, my stunning Stella.”

I gaze into his eyes as he gazes into mine, and little by little, I know I’m falling for him.

And the excitement of that has me coming out of my skin.

I wonder if it’s the same for him or if I’m jumping the gun.

But who cares. I’m happy.

Chapter Eighteen

Stella

“I’ve never been here,” I say as I look around the gorgeous restaurant Wes has brought me to called Sambuca. We’ve already ordered appetizers, and both of us have water. “Have you been here?”

Wes leans forward, adjusting his chair as he shakes his head. “Nope. Boon actually told me I needed to come here. It’s his and Posey’s spot. They live right up the road.”

“Yeah,” I say since I know where they live, but then I’m distracted by the restaurant and the super-cool ambiance. It has a club feel, but it’s romantic. Dark walls, big, round cushioned booths, and sleek tables. I like it. A lot. When they set down our Buca Beignets, we dig in, and I’m in heaven. “Oh my goodness, these are so good.”

Wes’s lip quirks at the side. “I don’t know what’s better, the food or the view.”

I purse my lips at him, and he grins before popping another biscuit full of cheese and jalapeño into his mouth. He’s right, though; it is hard to pick between the food and the view. His face is looking better. Instead of black and blue, it’s now green and yellow with no swelling. His nose is only a little crooked, but I like his look. It adds character. “Your face is healing nicely.”

“I know, right? I was surprised.”

I snort. “What does that mean?”

“I was convinced I was going to rock the Quasimodo look for much longer.”

I giggle loudly. “Not anywhere near the level of Quasimodo.”

“Whatever. Like your mom said, I’m surprised I pulled you.”

“You pulled me?”

“Yes, I was in your DMs.”

“And I was in yours. But I’m the one who invited you out, so I pulled you.”

“Oh wow, okay. That’s how you want to play this. You’re taking credit for this?” he asks, gesturing his hand between us.

“Always,” I say simply, grinning at him.

“Rude. I was constantly hitting on you.”

“Yes, and I decided to pull you in and make you mine,” I say sweetly.

“Wow. Now who’s putting labels and making claims over whom?”

“You love it,” I say with a wink, and I love this playfulness between us. He holds out a beignet to me, and I lean forward, taking a bite. He tries to take it back, but I take the whole thing, laughing at the shocked look on his face.

“You are mean. That was the last one, and I’m a growing boy.”

I laugh even harder. “You’re done growing!”

His eyes are full of such friskiness, and his smile is unstoppable. “Baby girl, you have no clue how much I can grow.”

Oh Jesus.

As he takes a long pull of his water, his eyes are on me, and I feel them absorbing each inch of me. There is a lot of skin to take in, and I can tell he appreciates every bit. “You’re blowing me away tonight, Stella.”