Or so I thought.

“But…” Mom said, “shouldn’t we offer him a drink?

Maybe sit and have a chat?”

I did not think so. No chats. Eddie could drink at the table while forking food in his mouth.

“No time, supper’s done and I’m about to mash the potatoes. Go, go, go!”

Mom wheeled out, defying my order and intent on being both meddling and polite, “I’m asking him what he wants to drink.”

“Just do it in a hurry,” I cal ed after her, knowing Eddie probably could hear. “We don’t want cold potatoes.” I hid in the kitchen, fiddling over the final touches. I knew this was the act of a supreme wuss, but I didn’t care. Mom came in, made Eddie an iced tea, then Mom went out.

I put food in serving dishes and started to head to the table. I’d made chicken fried steak, an enormous mound of mashed potatoes, peppered white gravy and green beans.

Mom forced me into frying al eight beef cutlets I bought, rather than just four, tel ing me Eddie was a man and men were big eaters. I’d never known anyone who could eat two huge chicken fried steaks, much less five, but who cared. I didn’t have the energy to fight her.

Maybe he could.

Maybe he would, just to be nice, and then he’d lapse into a food coma. I was focusing on the next hour and a half and hoping I’d survive it. An Eddie Food Coma would just be a bonus.

“Let’s eat,” I announced, walking into the living room and heading toward the dining table. I was balancing two bowls and a platter and nearly dropped them when Eddie looked at me.

The minute he saw me, his eyes got funny, kind of lazy, amused and assessing al at the same time. His eyelids came down just a bit, the corners of his lips turned up and his dimple came out.

“I’l go get the gravy,” Mom said and wheeled away, guiding herself with her foot.

I set the food on the table, busy, busy, busy. I was just noticing the table Mom laid was set for five, rather than three when I felt Eddie come up behind me.

“Take a seat,” I said, not turning to look at him and not caring if I seemed impolite.

I was back to my Bitch Strategy. I was counting on the fact that no one real y wanted to be around a bitch, not even Eddie.

His hands went low on my hips, I felt pressure there and he turned me around. His hands slid around me, stil low on my h*ps so they settled at the top of my behind and he pressed me close.

I looked up, the lazy look was stil on his face but he was smiling ful now.

I took a mental deep breath.

“Food’s gonna get cold,” I warned.

“What’s the matter now?” he asked.

I blinked.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s the matter.” He watched me and then something lit in his eyes. I didn’t know what that something was but, by the look of it, it was something that made Eddie very happy.

“You’re scared of me,” he murmured, pul ing me closer.

I blinked again and my body got stiff. “I’m not scared of you,” I lied.

The smile was there but now it, too, turned lazy and somehow… satisfied.

“Yeah, you are.”

“Am not,” I said.

“You are and you should be.”

My eyes got round.

“Why?”

“Because, you don’t give it, I’m gonna take it and you know it.”

“Give what?”

“Anything,” he said and his mouth came to mine,

“Everything.”

Dear Lord.

My breath caught. My doo-da quivered. I grabbed onto his biceps and he kissed me. I slipped firmly into the Eddie Daze and, I’m afraid to say, kissed him back. When he lifted his head, it took a few seconds for me to open my eyes.

“Chiquita, you’re too adorable,” he muttered, watching me, the lazy look gone, the hungry look in its place.

The buzzer went and I jumped.

“I’l get it!” Mom yel ed and immediately exited the kitchen, her snail’s pace fetching of the gravy explained. I knew she was giving Eddie and me a moment and probably eavesdropping at the same time. If her fast advance from the kitchen was anything to go by, she’d positioned herself right at the door.

My life sucked.

“I real y don’t like you,” I said, taking it out on Eddie.

He just smiled.

He let go but stayed close and I turned.

Ada walked in, Mom fol owing, stil carrying the gravy.

That explained place setting number four and Mom making me prepare enough food for an army. I had a sneaking suspicion as to who was going to be at number five and my eyes narrowed on my mother. She ignored me.

“Jet, you look pretty,” Ada said and I bent to give her a kiss.

Only Ada would describe my slut makeup as pretty.

“Hey Ada.” I greeted her.

She looked at Eddie and her eyes lit.

“And you’re Eddie.”

She offered her hand, Eddie took it and smiled at her.

She turned her bright gaze to me. “He’s a looker.” She wasn’t wrong.

“Food’s gonna get cold,” I repeated, beginning to feel both panicked and ticked off, neither of which I could let loose at that particular moment.

“But Trixie hasn’t arrived yet,” Mom said as everyone started to take their places at the round table.

“She’l have to catch up,” I replied, scooting as both Mom and Ada bumped me around like I was the bal in a pinbal machine, adeptly forcing me to sit next to Eddie.

Damn.

Damn, damn, damn.

“Jet tel s me you’re an officer of the law,” Ada said as we

“Jet tel s me you’re an officer of the law,” Ada said as we started to pass food around, Mom shakily pouring iced tea for everyone. I knew better than to take it away from her, she was chal enging herself, like the therapists told her to do, showing off in front of Eddie. Though, I wished she wouldn’t do it while dealing with liquids.

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, taking a chicken fried steak and then handing the platter to me.

“Have you ever been in a high-speed chase?” Ada asked, passing Eddie the green beans.

“Once or twice,” Eddie answered, taking beans.

Ada’s eyes got round, handing over the potatoes.

“Did anyone crash?”

“No.”

She looked disappointed then she ral ied, “Ever been in a shoot out?”