Read Online 120 Mph by Jevenna Willow - Free Book Online

“I am as getting pretty darn sick of the stares, as much as I would
think you are. Let’s go, before someone who may be of better character on most other
occasions gets hurt.”
    Sara placed her palm against his, rose,
and together they left the restaurant, with numerous eyes following their
unusual exit and a few undesirable comments left in the wake. Once out the door
and them walking toward his car still hand in hand, he asked, “Up for a frozen TV
dinner?”
    With slight pressure to his fingers, Sara
tugged and got Christian to turn her way. He stalled his angry footsteps toward
his car. A hasty exit and equally quick command wouldn’t even begin to explain
his actions. Nor take away her piqued astonishment about those actions.
    Hoping he would take them back inside,
have a nice meal, and forget about the vicious nature of others, she said, “I
would have been fine in there,”
    Sara had felt the angry stares from the
moment he pulled out her chair and she sat down upon it, to the moment he took
her hand and escorted her to the exit. Those stares had stretched her patient
limits, to say the least. She even, at one particular moment, glared at a woman
who’d been enjoying her dinner but sat next to them. She then let that woman proceed
into reducing herself to an opinionated witch by way of clicking her tongue and
. . . Good God! She’d even sneered to make it sting.
    Sara had settled for putting her nose
behind her laminated menu and checking her thoughts at the back door. There was
no sense in ruffling feathers when to do so would only create more trouble—for
her, and for Christian.
    “I didn’t want you to be just fine,
Sara,” he snapped, checking any damaging attitude as best he could. “I wanted
you to have a nice dinner, in a nice restaurant, and a bunch of uptight
bastards wanted to make it completely miserable on the both of us.”
    “They’re just curious, Christian.”
    A sting of regret to the words caught Sara
by surprise. Curiosity got a cat in trouble, squashed under a back tire. Sara
Ruby was no cat, and she did not have nine lives to make it through without the
fur singed in case trouble came her way. But she’d been around that block a
time or two to know any regret had to be brushed away.
    “They’re curious about things that are
none of their damn business!” The veins on his temple looked to be throbbing.
His lips pinched, his lower jawline was twitching.
    Sara did not want to be the cause of
such a good man having a heart attack, simply because she was hungry, and he
made the foolish mistake of asking her to be his dinner date.
    “Maybe so . . . ,” she started, using
what she could of a soothing tone to get the frazzled man to calm.
    A cocked brow and the question, “Maybe?”
forced her to retract her thoughts to what actually happened inside the
restaurant.
    “Okay, fine. I was uncomfortable in
there. But not because of the stares, or the snotty attitudes from pompous
jerks who should certainly know better.” The attitude from the waiter had been
the worst of the lot. He’d openly leered at her as if she were the newly
labeled Preacher’s Bend’s demi-whore. “But because . . . well, I, um  . . .”
    Oh, God! What the bloody hell was possessing
her to tell him?
    Sara had to look away to hide her
thoughts and possible humiliation. A fool was a fool. A damned fool spoke aloud
what was inside the head.
    “You what?” Christian prodded. His hand
quickly set to her chin to force her sight back.
    Sara shook her head, denying him any right
to have his wish. There were times, more often than not, when what a woman was
thinking should not be said. This was one of those times.
    Christian, however, was having none of
her evasive attitude.
    “You what, Sara?” he produced sharply.
“You did not want to come here with me, too high and mighty to be seen with a
guy who reads the Bible for a living?”
    These words went into her like the shot
from a gun, staggering her. “That is