Page 36 of Truth or More Truth (Throwback RomComs #3)

thirty-four

. . .

A s soon as the elevator doors close behind us and Diego is out of sight from his vantage point down the hall, I pull Melissa into my arms and kiss her again. Knowing the doors could open at any moment, I keep it short though not quite sweet.

“I missed you, Bobby Joe.”

My hold on her tightens with the words that hit me right in the heart. “I missed you, too.” I cock my head to the side. “I need a nickname for you. What’ll it be?”

“Pookie.” She nods as if to affirm her choice.

A laugh flies out of me. “Pookie? Really?”

Melissa smiles. “No.”

The elevator doors open and I place my hand on the small of her back to guide her out into the lobby and toward the bar. “Too late. You’ll forever be my Pookie.”

My heart stutters when I realize I just said the word “forever.” I hope that doesn’t scare her off. Then again, if she were going to be scared off, that probably would’ve happened long before now.

“Welcome back, Mr. Jacobs,” the hostess greets us as we approach. “Would you like a table, or would you and your guest prefer to sit at the bar?”

“A table would be great, Brandi. As private as possible, please. And we’ll need a drink menu and dessert menu.”

Brandi nods and grabs the menus. “Follow me. ”

Melissa smiles at me. “Mr. Jacobs,” she whispers with a snicker. “That’s what I’m calling you the rest of the night.”

Why do I like the thought of that so much? “You can call me whatever you want,” I murmur back as we follow Brandi to an intimate round corner booth.

Once we’re settled and have ordered our drinks and a piece of strawberry cheesecake to share, I brush Melissa’s hair off her shoulder and then let my hand rest on her neck while my thumb sweeps back and forth along her jawline.

“What are you doing, Mr. Jacobs?” Melissa asks with a flirty smile.

“It seems I can’t keep my hands off you, Pookie.” My thumb stills. “Is that OK?”

“The nickname? No. The touching? Definitely. I’m glad we’re in this round booth where we don’t have to sit across from each other.”

I press a soft kiss to her lips. “Me, too.”

“Well, isn’t this interesting?”

I close my eyes at the sound of my client’s voice—the client I left in this very bar twenty minutes ago and who I ordered to go home and not get into any more trouble. Seems he didn’t listen.

“Jimmie,” I say in a warning tone as I open my eyes and turn to face him.

The giant of a man-child rubs his hands together gleefully. “You work fast, old man.” He jerks his chin toward Melissa. “Who’s tonight’s catch?”

I’m on my feet in less than a second with Jimmie’s shirt clenched in my fist. I don’t care that he’s fifteen years my junior and almost twice my size. “Her name is Melissa, and she’s my girlfriend,” I nearly hiss out. “And you will apologize to her right now for your rudeness and disrespect.”

Jimmie’s eyes go wide, and he holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, dude. I didn’t know.”

“Apologize to her, not me,” I order, without letting go of him.

When he flashes his trademark grin at Melissa, I growl.

“What?” he snaps. “You told me to apologize.”

“Without flirting! ”

“Sorry. What’s crawled up your?—”

I tighten my hold on his shirt. “Apologize to the lady right now,” I say through clenched teeth, “or you’ll be finding yourself a new agent.”

“After all the sh—” his eyes dart to Melissa and back to me, “I mean crap I’ve pulled, this is what’s gonna tip you over the edge?”

“You wanna try me?”

“Uh, no. Let go of me, man, and I’ll apologize.”

“Everything all right over here?” The bartender, Jorge, has left his post behind the bar and is eyeing the two of us with a look that says, “I don’t care who you are, you’ll settle down in my bar or you’re not welcome here again.”

I let go of Jimmie’s shirt, and he smooths it down with his hand.

“We’re good.” I narrow my eyes at Jimmie. “Right?”

“Yes. Right. Sorry, dude.” He aims that at Jorge, but he’d better be saying he’s sorry to Melissa within ten seconds.

“That’s what I thought.” Jorge gives us another stern look before sauntering back over to the bar.

“You were saying?” I prompt Jimmie.

“Ma’am … I mean, well, you’re not really old enough to be a ma’am, are you?” His eyes widen. “Did I just make this worse?”

“Spit it out, Zane,” I say through clenched teeth.

He lets out a deep breath and dons a halfway repentant look when he addresses Melissa. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I didn’t mean any disrespect to either of you.” He glances at me and shrugs. “I didn’t know she was your girlfriend, man. I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend.”

“Whether she’s my girlfriend or not, you should treat any woman with respect. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Now go home.”

He salutes me with a grin. “Yes, sir.” Then he spins and swaggers out of the bar.

I drop back into my seat with a sigh. “I’m sorry about that.”

Melissa’s hand lands on my arm. “Oh, I’m not. It was quite entertaining. And who knew your growly, protective side would be such a turn-on, Mr. Jacobs?”

My hand finds its way back to her leg. “Yeah?”

“Mmmhm. Now, if you’d hit him, that would be a different story, unless he was going after me physically. Violence is not attractive in the least. But a well-placed non-violent threat to a punk kid who doesn’t understand how to treat women? Yes, please.”

I tip my head toward hers, but before I can kiss her again, the waitress brings our drinks and kills the moment.

“Here you go,” she says. “Your cheesecake will be out in a few minutes.”

“No rush,” I say without taking my eyes off Melissa.

The waitress chuckles and moves off to another table.

“So that was Jimmie Zane.” Melissa shakes her head. “I’ve heard about him from Leslie, but I hadn’t met him yet, obviously. You’ve got your hands full with that one.”

“That kid just might be the death of me.” I take a sip of my old fashioned.

“He’s the reason I was here before the wedding and the reason I’m here today.

Well, one of the reasons I’m here today.

” I squeeze her thigh and lean over to give her a quick kiss.

“Seeing you definitely made this trip worthwhile.”

“When do you think you’ll be back again? Do you have anything scheduled?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve got quite a bit of travel ahead. Next weekend I’ll be in Miami for the Super?—”

Melissa’s eyes go wide as she interrupts. “Wait! Are you serious?”

I nod.

“Do you have some football clients that are playing in the game? Is that why you’re going?”

“No, I don’t have any football clients these days.

I tried doing all the sports early in my career, but that got too hectic with the timing of all the various seasons.

Now I’m mostly baseball with a little bit of hockey.

” Though Jimmie is making me rethink the hockey decision.

“But I still take some of my clients to the game each year. It motivates them to want to be the best in their own sports.”

I love going to the big game every year, but going this year means I can’t be with Melissa.

Soon after that, Diego and my other baseball guys will be heading to spring training, so I’ll be back in Florida and also in Arizona at some point in the next month or so, which will also keep me away from Chicago and the woman next to me.

Could I ask her to join me in one of those places, or would she think I’m moving too fast?

“I would kill to go to the game,” she says.

“Really? Even though Chicago lost last weekend?”

“Yeah, that was a heartbreaker, but what sports fan wouldn’t want to go, no matter who’s playing?” Her voice is wistful, and I know she’s not angling for me to take her with me, but I’m going to shoot my shot and ask her anyway.

“You wanna go with me?”

Melissa points her thumb at her chest as her jaw drops. “Me?”

“No, my other girlfriend sitting next to you,” I tease, wondering if she’ll comment on me calling her my girlfriend both now and earlier with Jimmie.

She playfully swats my arm. “You’d better not have any other girlfriends.”

I slip my arm around her and press a kiss to her temple. “Only you, Pookie.”

She rolls her eyes. “But the game is like ten days away. How will you get me a ticket?”

“I have my ways.”

“Ah, there’s the ol’ Bobby Joe confidence rearing its head again.”

“I notice you haven’t answered my question.” I give her a little squeeze.

Her eyebrows draw together. “What . . . oh, yes, I want to go with you!” She grabs my face between her hands and kisses me soundly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

I chuckle. “If I’d known this was the way to get you to kiss me, I’d have offered you a ticket a long time ago.”

She cocks her head to the side. “Like how long ago? ”

I swallow. “Uh, well, since I first met you.”

“And when was that, again?” she teases.

“Back in May at Diego’s first game in Chicago, in the suite at Wrigley.”

“When you had no idea what my job was?”

I grimace. “Yes.”

“Why did you think I was there?”

I shrug. “I was so overwhelmed by your beauty that I couldn’t think about anything else.”

Melissa laughs. “Liar.”

“It’s true.” I take another sip of my drink to hide my smile.

“Hmm.” She taps her finger on her lips. “I guess I’ll let that slide. I’ll get on the phone first thing in the morning to get a plane ticket. I hope they’re not already sold out.”

“I’ve got you covered on that.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? You gonna fly me in your private jet you’ve been keeping secret from me?”

“Nope.” I flick the tip of her nose with my finger. “My friend’s private jet.”

“If it just now occurred to you to invite me, how do you know you have a friend going to Miami from Chicago on their private jet and they’ll have room to take me along?”

“Because the friend is Diego.”

Her head tilts back as she laughs. “Of course. I should’ve known. But I didn’t know he has a private jet.”

“He doesn’t own one. He just charters one sometimes for longer flights when there’s a group going with him, and I can guarantee he’ll let you tag along.”