Page 63 of Set It Right
“She explained everything.” I reached across the table, covering his fidgeting fingers with mine. “I think I’m good, but if something comes up, you’ll be the first person I come to.”
He chuffed softly. “I just don’t want you hurt.”
“I’m not hurt. But thank you for looking out.” I tipped my chin toward his arm. “What about you?”
He leaned back, his hand slipping out from under mine. “Ah, I’m fine. Shading is no big deal.”
I slowly grinned at him. “You’re so tough.”
He shook his head and smiled down at his lap. “Not at all, but after sitting through an entire backpiece, I’m pretty sure I can handle anything.”
“I still haven’t gotten a good look at that one. When are you going to show me?”
His eyes met mine, warm and glacial all at once. “Whenever you want to see it.”
“Maybe I’ll ask later.”
His mouth curved. “Maybe I’ll say yes.”
Our food was delivered, and Cormac watched me closely, making sure I ate every bite. Then dished more mashed potatoes and buttered rolls onto my plate. When I declared myself too full to eat any more, his frown was as deep as the ocean.
“Are you sure?”
I groaned, rubbing my stomach. “Absolutely. If I keep eating, I’m going to have to unbutton my jeans. I’m not opposed, but I’d rather not in public.”
He grunted.
I pushed the remains of my steak toward him. “You can have the rest. And considering I ate ninety percent of the mashed potatoes, youshouldhave the rest.”
That earned me a scowling glare.
“I’m not eating your food, Zara.”
I bit down on my bottom lip, but it did nothing to hide my snicker. The corner of his eye twitched, trying to keep his expression in place. But it was no use. A bubble of laughter floated out of me, and he gave up.
“I’m just trying to make sure you don’t faint.”
“I know, and I appreciate you looking out for me. It’s extremely sweet.” I propped my chin on my fists and smiled at him across the table. “I promise I’m good, Maccie. A little tattoo is not going to take me down.”
He looked like he didn’t want to believe me, but when the waitress came with the bill, he let it go.
Once again, he paid, accepting no argument from me. We walked outside, Cormac’s hand light on my back. The summer air was warm but not unbearable, and I wasn’t ready to get back in his truck.
“Want to walk down to the lake?”
“I had a feeling you’d want to.” He gave the hem of my shirt a tug. “As long as you’re feeling steady, I’m game.”
I tugged his shirt back. “I’m as steady as they come. Let’s go.”
He led the way around the side of the restaurant to where a narrow dirt path slipped between two clusters of trees. He kept his hand on my elbow, like he didn’t entirely trust my promise that I wouldn’t tip over.
“I swear”—I glanced up at him as we walked down a rocky slope—“I’m not going to keel over.”
“Good,” he muttered. “Because I’m not carrying you back up this hill.”
I snorted. “You absolutely would.”
He didn’t answer, but we both knew the truth.
