Get to me (8th sin series, book 1)

A thing

I don't think an outdoor pub is the kind of place I expected Jackson to take me, and I'm impressed. He could have taken the opportunity to impress me by taking me to a fancy restaurant.

"Can I start the two of you off with something to drink?" the waitress asks. She takes her time eyeing Jackson--really checking him out. "Maybe an appetizer?"

Jackson returns the menu between the salt and pepper shakers and the napkin dispenser. "Beer. Whatever you have is fine."

I raise an eyebrow skimming down the menu. "Iced tea, please."

She nods politely and focuses on Jackson again.

"With lemon," I tell her, drawing her away from sexually assaulting Jackson with her eyes.

"Do you want to try some oysters or crab cakes?" Jackson touches his chin.

I shake my head. "I've never had an oyster, and I hate seafood."

He drops a hand down on the table, his mouth going slack. He looks at the waitress. "Bring us both."

"No." I shake my head. "There is no way I am eating that."

"Where is your sense of adventure?"

I make a face. "Believe me, I have one. It's just not fond of seafood."

Jackson's not buying my distaste of seafood.

Ten minutes later, the waitress comes back. She carries the tray high and proud and comes to a stop at our table. "Here are your crab cakes." She sets the first plate down. "And oysters."

I drag a hand through my hair.

"Enjoy." She winks at him and then leaves.

Jackson slaps his hands down on the table excited. "I promise you, these are the best in town."

"Is that why you brought me here?" I grab a napkin in anticipation of the vomit that's sure to come. I look over my options, wrinkling my nose. "I guess I'll try the crab cake."

Jackson lifts a fork and cuts off just enough for me to try. I wait for him to hand over the fork but instead he insists on feeding me.

I slap his hand. "You are not feeding me."

He smirks. "I so am."

"Do you like torturing me?" I raise an eyebrow closing my eyes and opening my mouth. And I wait for it. But nothing happens. "What are you doing?"

"Enjoying the view." He is sitting there with his arms crossed. The fork back on the plate.

I shut my mouth and glare at him. "You are a jerk." I lift the fork and look at him. "I was beginning to think you were a nice guy, Jackson." I put it in my mouth, chewing slowly--it's actually not bad.

"Good, right?" He takes my fork and digs into the rest of it.

"Very good." I'm impressed. "I want more."

"Don't we all," he teases, bumping against my arm with his elbow. I grab his arm and guide the fork to my mouth and laugh at him while I chew.

"We all want things," I say, licking my lips. Realizing I'm still touching his arm, I pull away.

He pushes the plate to me. "Try the sauce. Not sure what it is, but it's pretty damn good."

I drown the next bite in the sauce and moan as the flavors assault my tongue. "Amazing."