Page 13 of Haze
He let her catch her breath as he bent to grab the candy that had fallen on the floor. He held the colorful bag up and asked, “You like sour Skittles?”
He was ready to imprint that information into his mental Rolodex, but her next words made his brows raise.
“My daughter does.”
Judging by the look on her face, he could tell she didn’t mean to let that information slip. Haze could tell she was trying to hold up barriers with him so he couldn’t get too close, but she needed to stop wasting so much energy on that, because when he wanted something, he got it.
“You just got the one kid?” She nodded slowly, almost like she was afraid. He grinned and pulled her in for a hug. He didn’t even care that she didn’t reciprocate. He loved how his hands felt on hers. “You coulda told me I was gonna be a stepdaddy.”
She pushed him away and looked up at him with wide eyes. “I . . . uh, I don’t have much t-time for lunch, so . . .”
Haze nodded and looked back toward the front of the door. “Bib, how much I gotta pay you to make my sandwiches?”
“Fifty a sandwich,” Habib shouted back.
Haze shook his head and mumbled, “Nigga always taxin’.” Then louder, he said, “Man, bring ya ass.”
Habib slowly walked toward the back of the store where the deli was. Freddy, who had been manning the counter, looked at Haze, hurt. “You know I could have hooked you up.”
“I needed my lady to taste a sub from Bib, man. Next time,” Haze said.
Freddy nodded his understanding and went to the front to man the register. Everyone knew Habib made the best sandwiches in The Bay. Hell, Haze was willing to bet that he made the best sandwiches in the United States.
Devyn and Haze rattled off their orders, with Haze giving her some gentle suggestions along the way. They watched as Habib made their sandwiches with love and precision. After, they grabbed a few snacks to go along with their sandwiches and went up to the register.
“A hunnid and fifty,” Habib said after he rang them up.
Devyn’s eyes bulged. “I thought he was joking about the fifty per sandwich.”
“I never play about my money, young lady,” Habib said with a charismatic grin.
“Can’t do nothin’ but respect that,” Haze said as he handed him some cash. “Keep that change, Bib. I’ll check ya later.”
Haze guided Devyn out of the store and past his truck.
“Where are we goin’?”
Haze nodded his head toward a stoop. “Right here.”
“Won’t the people that live here get mad?”
“Habib owns this spot. He don’t live here, but he rents it out from time to time. Nobody lives here at the moment,” Haze explained as he sat down on the steps.
Devyn followed suit. “This is not what I pictured when you asked me to lunch.”
“What? The princess can’t hang out in the hood wit’ her man?”
“You aren’t my man, and who said I can’t hang in the hood? I’m here, aren’t I?”
Haze snickered. “You got that.”
He’d let her live . . . for now.
They took a moment to get their food situated. When she took her first bite, Haze’s smile was a mile wide. She moaned and closed her eyes, and he had flashbacks of being deep in her guts. His dick twitched, but he told himself to behave. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off, even though that didn’t matter now. He had her name and knew where she worked.
“This is so good,” she finally said.
“See, I ain’t ever gonna steer you wrong.”
