“Yeah, I’m fine. Get in. You hungry?”
“Famished,” she said as she got into the car. Nervous energy buzzed off her.
What a cruel joke of the universe. She wanted him as desperately as he wanted her. And yet... they were pieces to different puzzles, never intended to be put together to make the same picture.
“Do you like Japanese? I know a very nice Japanese place,” he said.
“Sakura?”
“You know it?”
“I’m passingly familiar. But, I’m not dressed nice enough for that.”
Gabe very much disagreed. If she looked any better he’d find some snug cave to drag her off to. “You look great. Anyway, I’m in jeans, too.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I would have been shocked if you’d been dressed up.”
Gabe chuckled. “Yeah, not much of a suit guy. I like to keep things simple.” You’re mine. You do what I say when I say it. That was simple enough, right?
He shoved those thoughts out of his head and started the car.
“Is it one of those places where they cook the food out in front of you at a big table?”
“No, this place is a lot more intimate. In fact, I’ve got us a private room.”
“Good. I want you all to myself,” she said.
God, this girl was gonna kill him.
She was quiet during the drive. Shy and nervous. If she knew what he was, she’d bolt out of the car the first time they stopped at a red light and flee him forever. He could have talked to her, eased the tension, but he liked her tension. If this was the most of that delicious energy he could get from her, he’d take it where and how he could get it.
When they arrived at Sakura, he helped her out of the car and led her through the parking lot, his hand pressed against her lower back. She didn’t tense or bolt from him, so at least she didn’t seem completely against being led. Surely she must sense or realize the paternalism in the gesture, the control. She didn’t buck like a wild horse, at least, or turn cold.
When they reached the door, he opened it for her.
She dropped her gaze slightly and murmured, “Thank you,” and then went inside.
Maybe he was wrong about her. She might be ignorant of the kink world, but there was something in her that wanted to submit to him even if she didn’t yet realize it herself.
A petite Japanese woman named Ishi smiled and bowed and guided them to a private room at the back of the restaurant. “Do you need a menu, Mr. Griffin, or should we bring your usual... for two?”
“No menu,” Gabe said. Ishi nodded and left them alone.
He watched Julie’s expression for some rebellion or offense that he would dare to decide what she would eat instead of giving her a list of choices to pick from, but she only smiled that nervous smile again. He might actually be able to work with this.
He pulled out her chair. “Sit.”
Again, she sat, offering no complaint at the order. He smiled.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He sized her up. Watching her reactions wasn’t enough. He wanted to know what lurked inside that cute little head of hers. “Are you bothered that I told her no menu?”
“Why would I be bothered? You seem to know this place well. I trust your judgment.”
I trust your judgment. Would that trust extend to the bedroom and all his darker desires? How long would that trust remain once he let loose with his full intensity on her? Five seconds? Maybe ten?
She kept looking down at the table, at her hands, around at the Japanese paintings on the walls.
“You’re very shy,” he said. “You aren’t like this at the bar.”
She blushed. “Oh. Well, the bar is loud, and there are a bunch of people. I have to force myself to be bigger.”
So I don’t get trampled, seemed to be the unspoken completion to that thought. She felt safe enough with him to reveal vulnerability. A positive sign.
“Gabe?” she said suddenly.
“Hmmm?”
“D-does it bother you that I’m shy? Am I not... am I not what you thought?”
“Some of my assumptions have already been proven wrong, but believe me, they are welcome mistakes.”
A soft smile curled her rose-tinted lips.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Twenty-two. You?”
“Thirty-six.”
“Oh.”
“Is the age difference a problem for you?” he asked. Gabe knew he didn’t look like the average thirty-six year old man. By this time, a great deal of them had let themselves go, if they’d ever kept themselves together to begin with—beer guts, hair starting to fall out, lines from hard living forming on their faces.
“No, it’s not a problem. I’m just surprised. I-it’s kind of a big gap.”
“Indeed it is.”
“Is it a problem for you?” she asked.
“No.”
Food was brought in then. The kitchen staff must have already started on it before they’d arrived, in case he wanted his usual. Empty plates were set in front of them, as well as chopsticks, some saki, and some tea both hot and iced. A second table was drawn up near the first where the food was brought in and placed. Extra tea, both hot and cold, and saki were left on a third table. As he’d requested. They were prepared not to interrupt him and discretely left the check.
“Ishi?”
“Yes, Mr. Griffin?”
Gabe pulled out his card. “I’ll go ahead and pay now. We’ve got everything we need here.”
“Of course, Mr. Griffin.” Ishi left the room with his payment, and he turned back to Julie. “Shall we?”
He took first her plate, then his own, and filled each with food.
“Do you like saki?” he asked, prepared to pour her some.
“I’ve never had it. I don’t drink.”
It was the last thing he’d expected her to say.
“At all?”
“No. I-I was raised kind of religious. Nobody at my house drank. I’m not really religious now, but I don’t drink. Not a moral thing, just not my thing.”
Gabe poured himself some and put the porcelain bottle back on the table. “But you work in a bar.”
Julie shrugged. “Yeah, but Danika likes that I don’t drink. She’s had problems with girls who drink too much on the job. She says it makes you too vulnerable and that we have some shady characters that come in. She doesn’t want us at risk.”
And I’m one of those shady characters.
Danika wasn’t the only one who liked that she didn’t drink. He probably wouldn’t be very interested in a girl who either drank too much or smoked. To echo Julie, not a moral thing, just not his thing. He’d wondered why he’d go for a bartender, knowing this. But now that he thought of it, he’d never seen her take a drink on the job.
“Tea, then?” he asked.
“Yes, please.”
“Hot or cold?”
“Hot.”
As he poured her tea, Ishi quietly re-entered the room with Gabe’s card.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Everything is great, Ishi.”
“Will there be anything else?”
“No, we have all we need.”