Page 72 of Parting Shot

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Something.”

“No. I just didn’t think I’d be here with you when I woke up this morning.”

“But that’s a good thing, right?”

“It is. Very good.”

“Okay.” I grinned, pointing at the last date. “You want that?”

“It’s all yours.”

Once I was done thoroughly enjoying the last morsel, I washed it down with some wine. He was staring again.

“Jesus, what? Did I not eat that right?”

“No, I just really liked watching you do it.” His smile, the way it lit up his whole face, was good.

“You like to see people enjoying your money,” I said truthfully. “You like treating.”

“Yes, and it usually goes one of two ways.”

“Sure. You have people who want to take advantage, or people who take it to the other extreme and don’t let you do anything for them at all.”

“Correct.”

“Well, guess what,” I said, admiring the way the suit, which had previously been on the floor of my bedroom, fit him. “Tonight, it’s your treat. Tomorrow, wherever we are, I’m buying. I hope you like burgers.”

“I do.” He flashed me a grin. “And your sense of compromise is stunning.”

“Is it?”

“You have no idea.”

I took another sip of wine.

“And from now on, I’m only treating you.”

“Good,” I confirmed. “’Cause I’m a jealous prick.”

“Oh? Well, that’ll be novel.”

The way he said it was weird.

“What does that mean?”

“Normally, that’s me. I worry about people being taken from me, not the other way around. I’m the jealous one.”

“Not anymore. Never with me. I’ll never give you cause.”

“Thank you,” he said and meant it.

After the appetizers were cleared and he poured me another glass of wine, I noted his fixed regard. “What?”

“Nothing.”