Page 27 of Laila Manning (Shadeport Crew #3)

Want to go on a date with me tomorrow?

T he text lit up my phone as I stared at it, trying to make it make sense in my sleepy brain. Deciding that I was nowhere caffeinated enough yet to respond, I got out of bed, stretching and groaning with each step to the coffeepot.

A date?

Zeke had left after our hot and steamy humping session on my bed, seeking a shower and clean clothes and a night’s sleep before a big day at work today. Which left me with time to ponder the turn of events between us.

Normally, that would be fine. My therapist had done a pretty good job of giving me tools not to overthink things that didn’t need to be. But then he hit me with that text first thing this morning, and I was left completely unsure of how to respond .

So, I did what any twenty something year old woman did when a drop-dead gorgeous, way out of her league man gave her the tiniest bit of attention.

I panicked.

And word vomited all over him through text message.

A date?

Like dinner and a movie?

Or like hanging out somewhere dark and secluded?

Because I did that once, and it didn’t work out well for me.

Ignore that.

I’m sorry.

I’m awkward.

But you know that. So anyway. What exactly do you mean by a date?

Because I feel like I need to know that before I accept or decline.

Have I mentioned I’ve never been on a date before…

Ever.

You probably want to take back your offer now, huh?

Okay, Bye!

“Stupid.” I groaned, slamming my phone down on the counter as embarrassment kept coursing through me. My phone started dancing as a reply came in, and I flinched, reaching for it, fully expecting to get a message stating I was permanently blocked by Zeke. As if that was even a real thing.

Stop texting and take a deep breath.

Little bubbles flashed on the screen before his next text came through almost instantly.

Laila, do what I said.

I rolled my eyes but took a deep breath, and another message popped up.

Good girl.

I looked around my apartment, expecting to find him watching me, but I was alone. He was just that intuitive.

Now that I have your attention. There is a charity gala tomorrow night that Ryker hosts every year. I was hoping you’d like to go as my date.

Nothing seedy or morally corrupt. Just a man in a tux, with a woman in a dress on his arm, spending the evening together.

I chewed my lips as I rolled the image of him in a black tux through my brain and fought the panic trying to keep dragging me down.

Dove.

His reply came again, and I sighed, rolling my eyes again.

You told me to stop texting .

Well, now that I’ve answered you, I want to know what your answer is.

I’m not a gala type of girl, Zeke.

I’m more of a twenty dollars for twenty minutes on a bare mattress on the floor kind of girl. I’d just embarrass you.

That was the first time I had ever put my past into harsh words like that for him. But he needed to know I wasn’t an evening gown wearing woman.

I was nothing.

Trash.

So far below that kind of event, it would be disrespectful to Ryker and Elora to even show up there as their little charity case dressed up like Cinderella when I was just the maid in real life.

My phone vibrated aggressively in my hand, with Zeke’s name lighting up the screen as he called me. I contemplated ignoring it, but I knew deep down he’d just call back.

“Hello.” I whispered, shame pushing my shoulders down onto the floor.

“You are not beneath this.” His strong, dominant voice rang through the line. “You can’t embarrass me, because I stopped caring about other people’s opinions years ago, Dove.”

I sighed, fighting stupid tears, I had no business crying over this topic. “I can’t, Zeke. ”

“Okay.” He responded, but I could hear all the things he wanted to say instead.

“I appreciate the offer. I just can’t.”

“I said okay.” He replied. “What would you rather do?”

“What?” I started pacing my apartment, “Just because I can’t go, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go.”

“I’m not going without you, Laila.” he said firmly. “I’m not needed.”

“Then why did you invite me?”

“Because the idea of suffering through the event seemed a whole lot more appealing if I was spending the evening with you on my arm.” He mocked, as if it were obvious. “But if you’re not comfortable going, then we’ll do something else. Some other type of date.”

“Won’t that get you in trouble?” I questioned.

He grunted, and I imagined that one sided bad boy grin covering his sexy face as he talked. “I’m past the point of getting my pee-pee slapped for small shit like that. Ryker will have Jed and Carly there with him and Ellie to take care of anything that comes up.”

The mental image of Ellie and Carly all dressed up in evening gowns, spending the evening with their men, created some sort of jealousy in my chest. Wasn’t that what I longed for all those years locked away in that brothel, being abused by men who only cared about themselves?

Normalcy?

Sure, maybe spending a lavish night in a gown at an event worth more money than I’d ever see in my lifetime wasn’t exactly the definition of normalcy. But spending the night with friends and a man I cared for was.

That was the normal I always hoped for.

The normal I craved .

The normal I deserved.

“Wait.” I whispered and chewed on my lip as anxiety ripped through my stomach, making me second-guess every thought rushing through my brain.

“What is it?” he asked, dropping his voice deep in that way that made my toes curl, aching to somehow feel that tone across my skin. “Talk to me, Dove.”

“I think I want to go.” I admitted. “But I don’t know why, because I hate crowds and every other part of the evening besides spending it with you and Jed and the girls makes me want to be physically ill, but—” I paused.

“But?” He urged.

“I think I have to.”

“Explain to me what that means.” His rumbling, deep voice kept me grounded as I fought to keep from spiraling.

I was going to need a therapy appointment before the conversation was done.

Communication.

That was the key to taking over my life and keeping control, wasn’t it?

“I don’t belong at an event like that.” I started and I could hear him open his mouth, ready to dispute my claim and reassure me of all the ways he disagreed, but I stopped him.

“But you’re worth pretending that I do for the night.

” I smiled at myself, almost sadly. “I think maybe it might help me see the type of things I’ve missed out on.

” To lighten the mood I’d darkened, I sighed and threw out a joke.

“Who knows, I’ll probably hate it, have a panic attack in the middle of the place and create a huge spectacle that Ryker’s business never recovers from and in five years, tomorrow night will single-handedly be the epicenter of the beginning of the entire Shadeport Crew’s untimely demise. ”

“Are you done?” He drawled, unimpressed with my attempt at humor.

“You can’t say it isn’t possible.”

“I actually can.” He countered, growling at the end of his words just enough to let me know he was taking control back of the conversation.

“How do you know?”

“What do you feel when I touch you?” His deep voice dropped even lower until I could feel it in my belly.

“What?” I whispered with dry lips.

“When you’re in my arms, when my lips are touching your skin, when my hands are gliding across your skin. What do you feel, Dove?”

“I—,” I stammered, licking my lips, trying to figure out what exactly he wanted me to say. Somehow, I didn’t think he wanted my response to be ‘like a horny teenager’ .

“Don’t joke.” He commanded. “What do you feel when I touch you?”

“Peace.” I replied honestly. “Calm. Yet somehow erratic and crazed and energized in ways I’ve never experienced before.”

“You’ve never had a panic attack with me around.” He asserted. “Because your body knows that I will take care of it, even if your head doesn’t yet.”

“Zeke.” I breathed against the phone.

“You’ll always be safe with me, Laila. No matter where or what we’re doing. Even at a crowded and stuffy charity event, you will not fall. I’ve already told you, the only one of us that will fall will be me. To my knees at your feet. Simple as that.”

“I don’t know what to say.” I admitted, utterly overwhelmed by his dedication to me, so quickly and effortlessly.

“Say you’ll be my date.” He sounded almost hopeful, and I heard a glimpse of the gentle man he’d shown me when we were alone .

“Okay.” I whispered, still in awe of it all.

“Good.”

“But—” I started, as reality set in. “I don’t have—”

“Leave it to me.” He replied, stopping my statement before I could start. “I’ll take care of everything.”

“Okay.” I replied whimsically. “Whatever you say.”

“Say it.” He growled, and I instantly knew what he was demanding from me.

“Whatever you say, Daddy.” I whispered shyly as excitement bloomed where fear and shame had tried to take hold before.

“Good girl.”

An hour later, my front door opened, and I jumped a mile from my seat on the couch, screeching in surprise and then groaning when I saw Carly’s blonde hair bob her way in through the frame. “Jesus, Carly!” I gasped, “You cannot do that to me!”

“Sorry.” She smiled with only the smallest bit of remorse visible as she started moving around my small apartment.

“Can I help you?” I closed the book I’d been reading and watched her walk into my bathroom and come back with my bathrobe slung over one arm.

“Yes!” She pointed flippantly at me as she started opening my dresser drawers, “Where are your thongs? ”

“My what?” I squirmed. “There are things you should never borrow from someone else, Carly. Butt cheek dental floss is most definitely at the top of that list.”

She glared at me over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “Not for me, dummy.” She pushed my underwear around until she found the only semi-attractive pair of black lace panties I owned. “For you.” She dropped them back inside. “We’ll have to buy some.”

“For what?” I crossed my legs under me, even more perplexed by her sudden visit.

“For the gala!” She sighed. “Keep up.”