Hayden (A Next Generation Carter Brother #4) - Lisa Helen Gray Page 0,42
arrived, yet the atmosphere stays calm and relaxed.
The waitress leaves after dropping off a sticky toffee pudding for me and a chocolate, chestnut truffle cake for Reid. I’m not complaining. It’s the most appetising part of the menu. It even smells delicious, and I can’t help but eye it as I lick my lips.
“Is it just me or are they really stingy with the portions?” Reid comments, pouting down at his dessert.
Chuckling, I nod in agreement. There isn’t enough here to satisfy a toddler.
“If this place didn’t cost a fortune, I would think they were rationing the food.”
Reid’s remark goes unheard when, from the corner of my eye, Clayton stands with his date and leads her over to the hostess desk, where the waitress hands over her coat.
He’s seriously going to leave with her? She’s really his type? All she’s done is laugh and basically throw herself at him. Who acts like that on the first date? She could at least pretend to act normal.
“That fucker is leaving me,” I grit out, slamming my fork down once they leave the restaurant together, his arm around her waist.
Reid scans the room, probably looking for the guy who has been giving him problems. “Who?”
“My boss,” I tell him, kicking him under the table when he continues to glare over my shoulder.
Reid shrugs, going back to his pudding. “The dude is probably fucking her in his car.”
“He didn’t drive,” I snap. “And give me that.”
He pulls his plate out of reach, covering it with his arm. “No! I shared all my dinner with you. Sod off. I’m fucking starving.”
“You fed bits to me to try.” I pout, fluttering my lashes. “Just one bite?”
“No. I only did that ‘cause I could feel the jealousy rolling off your boss. I’m surprised there isn’t a knife in my back.”
True. Not about the jealously, but about Clayton not looking happy the few times I caught him looking over. I’m not convinced it was jealously, like Reid, who spent the entire dinner feeding me bits off his fork, lightly touching my hand or running his finger along my arm.
“You’re an arsehole.”
He grins like it’s a huge achievement. “Thanks.”
Picking my phone up, I go to text Lily, to ask her to pick me up, knowing she doesn’t gossip, but Reid snatches it off me.
“Don’t go texting him. You aren’t desperate. Don’t start now.”
“He was my ride home, and since he left, I need someone to drive me home. I was going to text Lily.”
“She and Jaxon have gone ice skating tonight,” he informs me, and I groan. “And isn’t your car outside?”
“Yes, but I’ve had a drink.”
His eyebrows scrunch together. “Did you drink drive here, because I’ve only seen you have one. One won’t hurt.”
“I don’t like drink driving,” I tell him.
He laughs at my expense. “That’s not drink driving.”
“I don’t care what the limit is, I just don’t like doing it. Although I have eaten.” My thoughts drift off, wondering if the restaurant’s stingy portions were enough to soak up the drink I had.
“Jesus,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I’ve had two and I’m fine. I’ll drive you home.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, because that makes a lick of difference.”
“Come on, I’ll take you home,” he offers, trying to blackmail me by waving his fork with a chunk of truffle cake on in my face.
I would have said yes without the offer of food, but he doesn’t need to know that. I lean forward, lips parted, ready to taste the yummy goodness, when my chair is pulled away from the table.
I look over my shoulder. “What the…” Clayton’s powerful frame looms over us, and he does not look best pleased. “I thought you left with your date.”
“We need to leave,” he informs me shortly.
“I’ve not finished with my date.”
“Oh, your date’s over.”
My jaw drops at the audacity. This is how I pictured my dad reacting, though there would be more hand movements and crazy rants.
“No, it’s not, mate,” Reid pipes in, and I send him a warning glance to shut up.
“I’m not your mate,” he bites back before glaring down at me. “Come, Hayden. I’ve already asked the waitress to get your coat.”
“Go back to your date,” I snap, trying to shove my chair back under the table, but he doesn’t budge or loosen his grip. “What is your problem?”
“There’s an emergency at work and Chrissy needs you.”
“Me? What could she possibly have done that would need her to call me?”