UnHinge Me (Savage Beast MC #6) - Hayley Faiman Page 0,18
him, I lick my lips and shake my head. I don’t tell him that I can’t remember the last time that I ate or drank anything. It doesn’t matter.
“Whatever you want, it’s fine,” I whisper.
There’s a moment of silence as he guides the truck onto the main road. Kicking my sandals off, I bring my feet to the seat and rest my cheek against my knees as I watch the desert-scape pass by.
It’s silent as he drives for what feels like a lot longer than it should take to get to a basic super type box store. I’ve never lived this far out in the desert before though, and every time I moved when I was on the run, I went to well-populated areas, so I don’t know how long it takes.
“You want anything in particular to eat? They got pretty much everything here.”
Lifting my head, I look around in front of me. We’re in a town, it isn’t very big, but it seems larger than the place where Mountain lives.
“Doesn’t matter,” I say quietly.
He’s silent as he pulls the truck over into an empty parking lot. He turns to face me, his wrist resting against the steering wheel, his fingers dangle and I can’t help but watch them, wishing those fingers were on my body.
God.
There is something seriously wrong with me.
“Can’t read your mind, babe. Don’t know what you eat or don’t eat. You gotta tell me. There’s Dairy Queen, Taco Bell, McDonald’s. The fast food world is your oyster.”
My lips twitch into a smile. He grins over at me, shaking his head a couple of times before he lets out a sigh.
“I don’t know. My father never let me eat fast food.”
The words spill out of me, the half-truth. My father never did let me eat fast food, but I have omitted the part about living on the run for five years and scrounging for food. Sometimes the fast food dollar menus were the only things that kept food in my belly.
“You like ice cream?”
My eyes fly up to meet his. He’s grinning at me, but he doesn’t say anything else. “I honestly can’t remember the last time that I had any,” I admit. When you’re scrounging, ice cream is not what you order.
His grin widens and he nods his head once, as if he knows exactly where he’s going to go. Shifting the truck into drive, he turns toward the front windshield and I watch as he drives out of the parking lot and toward the main road again.
I watch as he pulls into a Dairy Queen parking lot. I expect him to pull into the drive-thru, but he doesn’t. Instead, he parks the truck and opens the door after turning the engine off. Without a word, he walks over to my side of the pickup and opens the door for me.
“A gentleman?” I ask.
He watches me, expressionless, as I slip my hand in his and slide out of the seat. He tugs me against his chest, slamming the door closed as he looks into my eyes. He’s assessing me, watching me, and trying to figure me out. This is a man who can look at someone and usually know exactly what they’re thinking.
He can’t figure me out though, not yet at least. I’m sure that he will soon. He’s not stupid, I’m just good at hiding myself, I’ve had to be. In my life, it’s been a requirement.
“Not really.” He chuckles. “Just not sure about you, babe,” he admits.
I’m surprised that he’s said it aloud. Licking my lips, I hold his gaze with my own. “You’ll figure me out soon enough, Mountain. Until then, I’m having fun for the first time in my life watching you try.”
Turning my back to him, keeping my hand in his, I start to walk toward the restaurant. He chuckles behind me, his finger squeezing mine as he tugs me backward. Side-by-side, we walk into the fast food place.
Together we make our way to the register. He orders more food for himself than I can imagine one person eating. Though, since he lives up to his name and is about the size of a mountain, it doesn’t surprise me.
I order a chili dog and a Choco Brownie Extreme Blizzard Treat. I’ve never had either, and for whatever reason, it sounds absolutely forbidden and amazing at the same time. Mountain doesn’t scold my food choices, instead he only laughs as he hands the cashier some money.