Checklist J, K, L

Davina let Grif drive, only because he knew where they were going. They’d had a spirited argument about it in the parking lot, which ended with Grif reminding her that without him, she wouldn’t get the Southland’s best, crispiest fish tacos.

Her stomach grumbled and she gave in, hiding her smile of delight that he hadn’t insisted he should be the one to drive because he was her Master. Insisting on driving because you knew the way was something entirely different.

The collar was off, and they were back to being Grif and Davina, lovers, sexual partners, and friends, though she hadn’t used that word to describe them before.

They hit the normal weekend beach traffic, but within forty minutes they were walking into a little Mexican restaurant. The minute the door opened, Davina’s mouth started to water. It smelled like cilantro, onions, cumin, and fried fish.

“I’m starving,” she moaned.

Grif put a hand on her back, leading her to the tiny hostess stand. “Give me five more minutes and you’ll have your margarita and some chips with good salsa.”

They were led to a small booth with high backed wooden bench seats. The tablecloth was garish, the old photos on the walls a bit dingy indicating they hadn’t been taken down and cleaned in a while, and like any good Los Angeleno, she knew that meant the food was going to be delicious.

When the waitress came, Davina ordered a pitcher of the house margaritas just to see how Grif would react. He added a request for water, and then the waitress was off to get their order started.

“Does it bug you that I ordered drinks for us?” she asked.

“No. Honestly that’s what I was going to order. If I’d wanted something else, I would have changed it.” He looked up from the menu. “Did you want it to bug me?”

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t…” She finished with a shrug.

“Still in Master mode?” His voice was a bit lower than it had been, and it made her remember what it felt like to have him whispering commands in her ear.

She waited for panic, or for that flash of white that indicated she was sinking into her serenity. Neither happened; it was just a good memory, triggered by the tone of his voice. She relaxed again.

“I recommend the combination three-taco plate, with their homemade refried beans.”

“Mmm, that sounds good, but fattening. I’m going to get two tacos a la carte, and then steal a bite of your beans.”

“Keep your fork away from my plate, woman.”

“Didn’t your mother teach you to share?”

They sniped gently at one another until the waitress came to take their order. Grif pointedly ordered an extra side of beans. The bartender delivered their frosty pitcher and two salt-rimmed glasses.

Grif poured, and held his glass up in a toast. “To fish tacos, and eating your own beans.”

Davina grinned, but as delightful as this was so far, this dinner was about more than just food.

find out if there was a chance for them to be anything more than BDSM partners. If he hadn’t asked her to coffee last weekend at the Getty, she wouldn’t have dared complicate an already complex situation by adding a

time, she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it for what it was, probably because doing so would mean

Grif froze, an adorable deer in headlights look on

tapped her glass to his, then took

we just…are we on

around pointedly.

mean a date,

was so dismissive when you’ve asked me out before. The answer is

“For two

Davina laughed. “We are.”

the person I get to spend time with at Las Palmas.” It seemed like he was

you say

risk fucking up what we had. Second, the few times I sort of mentioned

winced. “I did,

head. “Stupid question. I know what changed, I was there. I mean why did that make you want to go on a

less than a foot apart. “I found emotional clarity last night. I hadn’t let myself

sense. Can I ask…can I ask

in

her.

her sick with embarrassment, but something about the tone of his shock, and the way he was looking at her—disbelief and a tinge of outrage rather than pity—told her this was going to be okay. “I love you,” she

You do not get to say it

“What does that mean?”

in love with you for the past year and a half, and forced myself to keep my mouth shut about it so I didn’t send you

been…in love with me…for over

Which means you don’t get to say it first, a fraking day after

going to take it

it back, damn

the booth, his arms folded, the picture of disgruntled man, except for his eyes, which were

guessing this means you aren’t married with

wouldn’t

once the contract started. If you’d been married that

was absolutely shocked by his words.

to sleep next to you, has fueled many of my boxing workouts.” He looked grim. “It was

you, but, because of my past, I will need…Wait, you’re describing yourself as my

you happy then…” He ran a hand through his hair. “All I wanted was for you to be