“I know that.”
He exhaled deeply, the cloud in front of his mouth dissipating. “I don’t know. I think I would. I guess I’m not the kind of person who’d take anyone somewhere for nothing.” He looked down at me and squeezed my hand. “I’m not like you. Not good.”
“Sure you are. Goodness takes many forms.”
He looked ready to continue arguing when the Town Car pulled into view, ending our conversation.
Thirty minutes later, we were tucked into a corner booth at a small family-owned pizza joint, waiting for our Supreme with extra cheese to arrive.
“What’s your first name?” I asked.
He paused for a second before answering. “Matthew.”
“No one calls you that, though.”
He shook his head. “My mom and grandma used to, but that’s about it.”
“Do you have family nearby?”
His gaze left mine, flickering down to the table. “My dad took off when I was a kid. Haven’t seen him since. Mom died from cancer when I was twenty-six.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged a shoulder but said nothing.
“Any brothers and sisters?”
“None I know of. But given my dad’s nature, I wouldn’t be surprised if he left other women high and dry with kids like he did my mom.”
His dark eyes were steely now, his voice edged with bitterness. This was a bad subject.
“How many tattoos do you have?” I asked, reaching for another piece of bread.
A smile touched his lips as he considered. “Five.”
“Is there a story behind all of them?”
“Well, yeah. I’ll tell you the stories when you see ‘em.” His grin held interest and mischief. Seeing this side of him made my stomach flutter nervously.
“Where are the ones I can’t see?”
“My back and chest. One on my lower hip.”
I sucked in a breath as I thought about him unfastening his worn jeans and lowering them enough for me to see that hip tattoo. And more.
“So the one I can see . . .” I pointed at his arm, which had ink swirling from beneath the sleeve of his black t-shirt down to his elbow. “Tell me about that one.”
His cheeks darkened slightly and he smiled. “That one’s nothin’ to be proud of. I was in my early twenties and was wasted one night. A couple of my buddies and I went into a place and told the guy we wanted some ink. I passed out not long after he started.”
I couldn’t help the single note of laughter that escaped my lips. “Did you remember it the next day?”
“Vaguely. I have no memory of picking the design out. I think the guy at the shop had my back on that, ‘cause it could’ve gone really fuckin’ bad.”
I held his gaze for a few seconds as a warm, heady sensation washed over me. When I was with Kane, I felt a kind of magic I’d never experienced. Seeing his lighter, almost playful side made me feel special to him. And I couldn’t get enough of that feeling.
“Are you coming in tonight? Back at my place?” I asked hopefully.
He smiled. “You want me to?”
“Yes.”
Our server approached and set down a huge round metal pan of pizza between us. Our eyes stayed locked on each other until she was gone.
“We could always eat this in the car on the way,” he said.
“I like that idea.”
He gestured to our server.
“Everything okay?” she asked, her brow furrowed as she surveyed the uneaten pizza.
“It’s great,” Kane said, his eyes still on mine. “Just a carryout box and our check, please.”
The box of pizza sat unopened on the seat between us as Len drove us back to my place. I felt its warmth beneath my hand as Kane traced my knuckles with his large fingertips.
He grunted a quick goodbye to Len as we got out of the car at my place.
“Goodnight, Len,” I said. He smiled and offered me a thumbs up.