Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Hmm.” Samuel rubs my back some more, then tilts his head in thought. “Where’s he taking you?”
“Just for lunch at a place called … um … Big Shot Bites?”
“Biggie’s Bites? He’s taking you to the Tucker joint?” He blows air through his lips. His rubbing becomes more vigorous. “Well, I guess that’s one way to stack your deck.”
“Tucker joint …?”
“Billy’s parents. Y’know. Jimmy’s brother’s husband’s parents’ burger place.”
Say that five times fast. “Um … you mean that place on Main?”
“We passed it a few times yesterday.”
“For as much business as my father has with Nadine, it’s weird I’m not out here more often, otherwise I’d know things like what the hell this burger place is.” His hand is really rubbing my back now. He’s staring off, as if burning through his thoughts like campfire kindling. “Cole didn’t mention it’s a burger place.”
His hand stops. He looks at me. “You allergic?”
I wrinkle my face. “To burgers? No.”
“Need an out? Biggie’s gave my buddy food poisoning once. It has seen better days, that place. Total dump, run down, they have a field mouse infestation. Okay, I’m lying,” he says just as quickly, cutting me off, “it’s actually phenomenal, clean as a whistle, total diamond in the rough, can’t find a better burger spot in a hundred miles in any direction.”
“I could go for a burger. I skipped breakfast this morning.”
Samuel’s face goes funny, then he stares ahead sourly as his hand becomes stiff, turning his rubbing into more of a scratching. I smirk as I observe him. Is it so terrible that I’m enjoying the effect my words are having on him?
Actually, it is terrible. What am I doing? “Does it bother you?”
“Hmm?” he grunts, still staring off.
“My lunch date with Cole. Should I not go?”
Samuel quirks an eyebrow at me. “Really? You think I’d get in the way of you and true love?”
I roll my eyes. “Answer the question.”
He considers it for a moment, then shrugs. “Cole is a … certain type of guy. If you’re into that certain type of guy, then you should go on this lunch date and enjoy your certain type of guy.”
“And what ‘certain type of guy’ is that?”
Samuel smirks, then notices a bit of lint on his shirt. “Perfect as a—” Upon picking the lint off, he tilts his mug unintentionally, causing some coffee to spill on his shirt. “—shoot, dang it to hell—as a Ken doll. Perfect as a Ken doll.” He ignores the coffee stain and flicks the lint away with a frown. “In other words, not me,” he adds as a half-mumbled aside.
I crack a smile, then take a sip from my own mug to hide it. When I chance a look at him, he’s set his mug down on the ground and has the stained part of his shirt lifted up, where he’s blowing at it with a scowl, apparently handling it by drying it.
It’s almost adorable.
The question flies out of my mouth before I can think better of it. “Want to come?”
He looks at me mid-blow, still holding his shirt up. “Huh?”
“With us. Out for lunch. To Big Boy Bites.”
“It’s Biggie’s Bites. I’ve said it, like, a thousand times now, and what? Come? On your lunch date? With you two?”
“Is there any other way to say it? Yes. With us. Just three guys goin’ out for burgers in Spruce, Texas.”
Samuel slowly lets go his shirt and studies me. “That sentence really brought out the Texan in your voice, I must proudly note.”
“Good. I tried.” I offer him a smile. “So how does it sound?”
“Joining you guys? Like the stuff of my nightmares.”
“That isn’t a no.”
He gives it four honest seconds of thought. “Nah.” He eyes me smugly. “Wouldn’t want to turn Mr. Perfection into a third wheel, you know.”
I snort. “Really, Samuel?”
“Why are you asking me to go on your little lunch date with you, anyway?” He squints mischievously at me. “Are you wantin’ me to scare him off for ya? Is that it?”
“No. I want you to be yourself and just enjoy lunch with us.”
His face flat-lines. “Lame.”
“Besides, it’s not a date. It’s just lunch. I would never deign to be taken to some burger joint on my first proper date in three and a half years.”
To that, he slowly starts to smile, and the rubbing of my back becomes gentle again.
I smile back.
Then he shakes his head and looks away. “Nah. You fellas can go enjoy your tasty little burgers. I’ll keep myself busy here. Got plenty to do, anyway.”
My smile collapses. “You just said there wasn’t much left.”
“Nadine always finds more stuff for me to do ‘round here.”
“Samuel …”
Just then, the distant crunch of gravel indicates a car coming up the winding driveway. It pulls to a stop near the porch, a red car that looks freshly washed, shining in the midmorning sunlight. The door pops open, and out steps a handsome Cole Harding. Pair of crisp yet casual blue jeans, a wrinkle-free plaid shirt, buttoned up halfway, his bright white undershirt showing. Hair parted with not a strand out of place. His skin, smooth and unblemished. When he smiles at me, his eyes sparkle like chiseled gemstones.