Chapter Five
I barely glanced up before focusing back on the much more enticing woman in front of me. “What do you want, Talia?”
“I didn’t know you were home.” Her hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed. “You didn’t tell me.”
Genevieve choked on the bite she was chewing.
Picking up her lemonade, bringing the straw toward her mouth, I didn’t make eye contact with Talia. She didn’t warrant the courtesy. “I don’t know why you think I’d tell you anything, Talia.” I dropped my voice for Genevieve. “Drink.”
Genevieve’s eyes watered as her full lips wrapped around the straw. Her hand covered mine, and she did exactly as I told her.
“How charming.” Talia smirked. “Fattening burgers and a child’s beverage.”
Three carbon-copy, too-thin blondes walked up behind Talia. One of them opened her idiotic mouth. “Oh my God, Talia! Isn’t this your ex?”
Talia ignored her as she glanced at Genevieve with a sneer. “Apparently he likes them thick and unrefined now.”
My nostrils flared. “ Apparently you’re still ignorant and classless.” I forced myself to look at her. “Leave. Before I have you removed.”
Talia laughed. “I see you’re still throwing your weight around. I guess running around with play guns in the desert did nothing except encourage your savage ways.” Her lips pursed in fake sympathy. “How sad.”
Genevieve turned bright red. “ Play guns? ”
I put my hand over hers because I didn’t need a woman to defend me, but before I could stop her, she did what Genevieve does best. She started talking.
“Talia, is it? Well, I’m sure I don’t need to explain to you that freedom isn’t free, but since you seem to not grasp that, standing here spouting ignorance, I’ll explain it to you. When you encounter someone who has served in our military, your appropriate greeting is, and always should be, thank you for your service . That way, you acknowledge that you both understand and appreciate that the ground you are standing on did not come without a price, and that price is the sacrifice of the service member standing, or sitting, right in front of you. So, as far as I’m concerned, the only unrefined person here is you.”
Talia opened her mouth to respond.
“Go ahead.” Genevieve marched on with her verbal lashing. “By all means, give us your best retort. I’m sure anything you say will only improve upon Mr. Savatier’s good opinion of you.”
Crossing my arms, I leaned back in the booth.
Genevieve glanced at me. “Do you have anything to add?”
“I think you covered it.” In spades.
Pasting on a demure smile, ignoring one of the blonde carbon copies who’d pulled her phone out and who was either recording or snapping pictures, Genevieve looked back at Talia. “You may leave now.”
Talia snorted. “How pathetic, Sawyer, letting this… woman speak for you.” Turning in her too-high heels, she strutted off with the carbon copies rushing to keep on her six.
I opened my mouth to tell Genevieve that while I appreciated her efforts, I didn’t need her to defend my honor, but she held her hand up.
“Keep it.” She dropped her gaze, but not before I saw her expression falter. “I’m ready to leave now.” She made to get up.
I grabbed her hand. “Don’t let someone else dictate whether or not you finish your food.” The Marines had taught me to appreciate every damn meal. You never knew when you might eat your last.
Her chest rose and fell with an inhale, and she practically snapped at me, “I’m not.”
“After that speech, you’re ready to leave?” I challenged. I was being an asshole. If she wanted to leave, I should’ve accommodated her. But I wasn’t about to let her tuck tail and duck out. “The woman who told Talia off isn’t a runner.”
Her head whipped up as anger contorted her features. “Is that what you think? That I was just telling off your ex?”
“She isn’t my ex.” Sex didn’t make a relationship.
Genevieve blinked. Then she pulled her hand away and averted her gaze. “Whatever. I want to leave.”
“Finish your burger.”
For three seconds, she didn’t respond. She didn’t even move. Then she looked at me and her face said it all. She was pissed. “Are you telling me what to do?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Staring at me, she picked her cheeseburger up and took a giant bite. Barely chewing it, she took another bite, then another. Grabbing her drink, sucking hard on the straw, she gulped, washing down her stubbornness. Sixty seconds later, the burger was gone.
“Done.” She wiped her hands, then in direct contrast to the way she’d eaten the burger, she dabbed the napkin to the corners of her mouth. “Let’s go.”
For the first time in as long as I could remember, I fought the urge to smile. Catching the waitress’s eye, I nodded at her as I pulled out my wallet.
The waitress came over. “Anything else?”
“Just the check.” I grabbed a few twenties.
The waitress fished the handwritten bill out of her apron. “Here you go.”
I handed over five twenties. “Keep the change.” Buttoning my jacket, I stood.
The waitress looked down at the money and blinked. “Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but—”
“We’re all set, thank you.” I held my hand out to Genevieve. “Shall we?”
Ignoring me, she got out of the booth and gave the waitress a small smile. “Thank you.”
Fighting a smirk, I angled Genevieve to my left side, then caught the small of her back.
She stiffened, but she didn’t push me away.
The scent of her hair filled my head as the errant curl fell over her eye again. Shoving down all thoughts of getting her naked, I led her out of the diner.
Two strides into the parking lot, she let loose. “You tipped her more than the cost of the meal.” It wasn’t a statement, it was an accusation.
I palmed the key in my pocket and scanned the parking lot out of habit before unlocking the Escalade. “She needs the money more than I do.”
Genevieve stopped dead in her tracks and threw out a single word like a condemnation. “ Needs? ”
Something moved in my peripheral vision, and I frowned. “Excuse me?” I unbuttoned the jacket of my suit and scanned the parking lot again.
Genevieve tracked my movement. “You heard me. Why do you think the waitress needs the money more than you? Because she works in a diner?” Her voice took on an edge. “Because she isn’t rich like you, so that makes her inferior?”
Instinct, years of training, a sixth sense for trouble—I palmed the 9mm in my shoulder holster under my jacket. “We’ll discuss this in the car. Let’s go.” My left hand landed on her back again, and I cursed myself for parking at the back of the lot where the security lights didn’t reach.
“That’s an elitist attitude,” she protested, but her feet moved.
“It isn’t elitist to tip well, and I never implied she was inferior.” I opened the passenger door. “Get in.”
“No, what’s elitist is thinking you can order me to—oh!” Her high heel slipped on the running board and she started to fall.
The second I caught her in my arms, I felt the distinctive shape of cold metal hit the back of my skull.
“Arms up, motherfucker !”