Chapter 6 - Colt #2
"There ain't, but don't ruin my moment." Murphy turns back to his grill, chuckling to himself. "Been running this place forty years, and this is the first time I've seen you bring a date, boy."
"It's not—" I start, then catch myself. Is this a date? We never actually defined what this is.
I glance at Harper, wondering if I should ask her if this is actually a date. But who the hell asks that? Seems like the kind of thing that would make everything awkward, put pressure on something that's been easy and natural so far.
She's holding the menu up in front of her face now, and I can't tell if she's actually reading it or just hiding behind it. Probably embarrassed by Murphy's comment about me never bringing a date here before.
Which is true, for what it's worth. But explaining that feels like it would make things worse.
"The bacon cheeseburger is the best," I offer, trying to break the tension. "Though honestly, everything here is good. Murphy might look like he doesn't give a shit, but the man can cook."
"Bacon cheeseburger sounds perfect," she says, still not lowering the menu.
I reach over and gently push the menu down so I can see her face. Her cheeks are pink, those dimples barely visible as she tries not to smile.
"You okay?" I ask quietly.
"Yeah, just... processing the fact that apparently this is the first time you've brought someone here." She sets the menu down. "Which seems weird for someone who supposedly has a different girl every weekend."
"I never said I have a different girl every weekend," I protest.
"You didn't have to. I could tell." She's not accusing, just stating a fact. "The way you moved on that dance floor. The confidence. You're not a guy who lacks for female attention."
"Maybe not," I concede. "But there's a difference between hooking up with someone and actually wanting to spend time with them. Wanting to talk to them. Wanting to show them things that matter to you."
Murphy appears before she can respond, pen poised over his order pad. "What'll it be?"
"Two bacon cheeseburgers," I tell him. "Extra pickles on mine. Harper?"
"Normal amount of pickles is fine," she says, smiling at Murphy. "And fries?"
"Comes with the burger, sweetheart. And trust me, you want the fries. I make 'em fresh."
"Perfect."
Murphy heads back to his grill, and we're alone again. Well, as alone as you can be with two MC members in the corner and Murphy frying food ten feet away.
"So, you come here often?" Harper asks, and I can tell she's trying to sound casual. Trying to understand why this place, why now, why me bringing her here when I apparently never bring anyone else.
"Yeah, pretty regularly. Usually with Boone and the rest of the guys from the ranch. We'll come here after a long day, grab burgers, shoot the shit. It's our spot."
"And you've never brought a girl here? Seriously?" She's studying me now, those amber eyes searching my face like she's trying to figure out if I'm full of shit.
"Never," I confirm. "It's not exactly the most romantic setting."
"Then why bring me?"
It's a fair question. And I could give her some bullshit answer, something smooth and easy. But I don't want to do that with her. Don't want to play games or pretend to be something I'm not.
"Because I wanted you to see a part of me that others don't get to see," I say honestly.
"The real stuff, not just the guy at the bar buying drinks and dancing.
I wanted you to know about the tree I crashed into and the burger place I've been coming to since I was a kid and the town I've never left because I love it here.
I wanted to show you that when I said I wouldn't prefer any of those other girls, I meant it. "
She's quiet for a moment, processing this. Then that small smile appears, the one that makes her dimples show. "I still have no idea if you're an honest idiot or just an idiot."
I laugh, relieved that she's teasing instead of running. "Definitely an honest idiot."
"At least you're self-aware."
Murphy returns with two plates loaded with massive burgers and a mountain of golden fries. The burgers are perfectly cooked, juice running down the sides, topped with crispy bacon and melted cheese. My stomach growls just looking at it.
"Enjoy, kids," Murphy says, then heads back to his grill.
Harper picks up her burger, and I watch as she takes her first bite.
The special sauce, Murphy's secret recipe that he refuses to share with anyone, drips down the side, and she catches it with her tongue.
Her lips are full and plump around the burger, and there's sauce on the corner of her mouth that she doesn't seem to notice.
Fuck.
My cock throbs in my jeans, an immediate and undeniable response to watching her eat.
Which is insane. It's just a burger. Just her taking a bite of food.
But all I can think about is how those lips would look wrapped around my cock.
How that tongue would feel licking me instead of catching burger sauce.
How her mouth would stretch to take me, those plump lips sliding down my length while she looked up at me with those amber eyes.
I shift in my seat, trying to adjust myself discreetly.
This is not the time or place to be getting hard.
We're in Murphy's, for fuck's sake, but my body doesn't give a shit about appropriate timing.
She leans forward to grab a napkin from the dispenser and dabs at her mouth, completely oblivious to the effect she's having on me.
"You were right," she says. "This burger is incredible."
"Told you," I manage, my voice shakier than I intended.
She takes another bite, and I force myself to look away. Force myself to focus on my own burger, on eating like a normal person instead of sitting here fantasizing about her mouth on my cock.
This is going to be a long night.
A long, torturous, amazing night.