Hit the Spot Page 68

She was breathing fast and talking even faster. Tori was straight up freaking out.

“Babe, you need to relax,” I told her.

Her eyes sliced to mine again. “Are you crazy? I can’t relax! I screwed it up!” she shouted.

I flinched, head jerking back. “Screwed what up?”

“You need to take me somewhere,” she ordered, ignoring me. Her voice rough and quick and demanding as her palms pressed firmer to my cheeks. “Somewhere with people, Jamie. Lots of people.”

“Right,” I chuckled. “Get on that first thing tomorrow.” She was fucking nuts.

Tori’s head lifted off the mattress. “That won’t do at all,” she hissed, inches from my face. “We need to take care of this now. It’s urgent.”

“Middle of the night. You forgettin’ that? Where we gonna—”

“It’s urgent!” she cried.

“It can wait, babe. Whatever the fuck it is.”

“No it can’t!” Tori argued. “I need to claim you in front of people and you need to take me someplace where I can do that! I want everyone knowing, Jamie. Everyone. You’re mine and I want them knowing!”

I blinked. That weight that was pressing on my chest threatened to crack bone and crush me beneath it. “Fuck me,” I muttered, staring deep into her eyes.

“See?” Her head dropped back down. “Now do you really want to wai … oh, okay. You don’t.”

She giggled when I pushed to my knees then to my feet off the bed, taking her with me as I stood.

“Might wanna mention when somethin’s urgent, babe. Save us the back-and-forth shit,” I teased as I hurried her out of the room.

* * *

Tori was tapping her foot impatiently and surveying the inside of The Seaside Diner, arms crossed over her chest, wearing a scowl and looking ready to flip the fuck out on someone.

I was standing back, also had my arms crossed over my chest, wasn’t giving a fuck about anyone else in the room but her, and couldn’t scowl ’cause I was too busy keeping my laughter quiet so she wouldn’t hear. All bets were off if she did flip the fuck out, though. I was cracking up if I saw that.

“Unbelievable,” she mumbled, lifting her hand in the air, then letting it drop to her thigh before turning her head to look at me. “There’s five people here. And I’m counting the waitstaff.”

“One a.m., babe,” I reminded her. “What are you expectin’?”

“Enough people to fill a canoe would be nice.” She sighed, shoulders sagging. “There’s nowhere else we can go?” she asked.

“Head west and hit a different time zone,” I suggested.

Tori stared at me for a breath, contemplating this, then shook her head and rubbed at her sleepy eyes with her knuckles. “No. That would take hours. And we’d probably end up getting somewhere at one a.m. and be stuck going to a diner with five people in it.” She dropped her hand and looked at me. “I don’t know. I guess this will have to do.”

I smiled, liking how this was bothering her. She wanted this place packed. Tori was wanting everyone to see us together. I felt like I’d been wanting that my entire fucking life. Couldn’t remember not wanting it.

“Whatever you wanna do, babe,” I said. “Either way, I’m gettin’ somethin’ to eat.”

Her brow furrowed. “What? We’re not eating,” she argued.

“We’re eatin’.”

“No, we’re not. I’m claiming you and then we’re going back to bed.”

I shook my head, smiling.

Tori brought her hands to her hips and shot me a challenging look, head tilting and lips pursed.

“Babe, don’t make me force your ass into a booth,” I threatened. “Gettin’ somethin’ to eat since we’re here, I’m hungry, and I know they got good biscuits and gravy. Good pancakes, too. Gonna sit and eat and you can claim me while we do that. Then after we’re done eatin’, we’re getting back to bed. But I’m eatin’ first. Food smells good and you ate all my Pop-Tarts.” I smiled bigger when her eyes doubled in size. “You ever eat here? Biscuits made from scratch.”

Tori blinked and gathered breath through her nose. “I had one Pop-Tart, Jamie,” she snapped, tipping forward for emphasis. “And the other one is still in the pack. I left it for you.”

“Sweet of you,” I murmured, mouth lifting.

“Oh, I’m regretting it. Believe you me,” she shot back, going even heavier with the attitude.

Laughing, I shifted my attention to the waitress when she walked over and stopped at the podium. “How’r ya’ll doin’? Just two?” she asked, grabbing menus.

“Yep,” I answered, stepping up and putting my hand on Tori’s back.

I was preparing to force her ass into a booth.

“Great. Right this way.”

“He’s with me,” Tori rushed out, halting the waitress as she was turning to lead us.

I stopped moving, stopping pushing Tori forward. My chest went motherfucking tight. Fuck.

The older woman’s eyes widened in question. She kept her smile. “Pardon?” she asked, looking from me to Tori.

I looked down then, too, turning my head and meeting eyes that were shining, full of beauty for me and want for this moment. She was excited and sure and calm—this wasn’t scaring her. It was like Tori had been saying this shit daily to herself and out loud for months.

“He’s mine. He’s with me,” she repeated, voice so fucking sure. She looked back at the waitress as her arm slid around my back to my waist and held tight. “I just wanted you to know that. And everyone, so if you have an intercom system I could use? I don’t want anyone missing it in the back.”

“Jesus,” I mumbled. I bowed my head and held my laughter inside my chest.

“Oh, well, we don’t have one of those, but that’s very nice, dear,” the waitress replied. “You got that love inside you, it’s best to share it. I don’t think anyone would mind if you made a quick announcement, that is, if you’re feeling inclined.”

I looked at Legs again, brows lifting and face stuck in a grin. That shit was permanent.

She looked back at me, tipping her chin up and wearing the sweetest fucking smile I’d ever seen in my entire life. “I’m gonna do it,” she whispered excitedly.

“Babe,” I murmured, and that one word, fuck, that one word held so much feeling and meaning and promise—for her and for us, and she felt that.

Sucking in a breath so full it felt like she was draining all the air straight out of me, Tori turned her head to face the room, rolled up onto her toes, squeezed her fingers into my side, and did it.

My woman claimed me in front of five people at 1 a.m. in the middle of a diner, saying I was hers and everyone needed to know it, and informing those five people to spread the news around after giving out our names, which really had the waitress smiling and looking pleased to be working that night and a witness to this announcement.

Nobody else seemed to give a fuck. The two construction workers sitting at the counter or the old man sitting alone at a booth. The cook didn’t seem to care either.

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