Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“You have to down it in one shot,” he said.
“Okay.” I prepared myself.
Mike counted us down, and when he got to three, I tilted my head back and let the concoction slide down my throat. He had been right. The sauce was hot, and the oyster was slimy, slithering down to my stomach as the red pepper burned my tongue. I coughed, dropping the shot glass to the table as if it had been full of tequila.
“Wow, that was interesting.” I said.
“Does this night rate a tequila chaser?” he asked.
I shook my head desperately.
Mike laughed.
I took a long plug off my beer to try to regain composure. A moment later, I felt warm, as if the combination of protein and spice was adding its own magic to the alcohol. Dinner came and I ate half, saving half for later. Mike encouraged me to steal his fries, and by the end of the night, we were half-drunk, half-full, and one hundred percent relaxed. I got him to dance a few times while we waited for the buzz to wear off.
The band wasn’t that good. They were a couple of tax accountants who got together on the weekends and booked local gigs. But they were good enough to dance to. When the prerequisite line dance came around, I grabbed Mike by the hand and led him to the dance floor. He had two left feet and kept turning when he should have been kicking and kicking when he should have been turning. I laughed so hard I thought I was going to die, struggling back to the table to sit down. He plopped down next to me, grinning happily.
“This is the best time I’ve had in a long time,” Mike said softly, the humor in his eyes smoldering to embers.
“Me too,” I said, forcing my breathing to slow.
“Last call!” the bartender announced.
“Oh my gosh.” I checked my phone. It was approaching one in the morning. “I have to be at work early tomorrow.”
“Can I see you again?” Mike asked.
“Let me think about it,” I teased.
“Or we could just get a hotel room across the street for the night,” he suggested. “You’d be right down the street from your work.”
I felt my face grow hot, and not with the exertion of dancing. The idea had certainly crossed my mind, but I had to get Macy’s car back to her. I accepted option number one. “I’ll give you another date.”
“Okay.” He nodded.
I stood up. “See you.”
“We’re not doing that again,” he said, rising to his feet.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“That thing where we say goodbye without a kiss,” he responded.
“Oh,” I breathed.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” He pointed to the door.
We stepped outside into the night. There were fewer cars now than there had been when we had arrived. Around us, other patrons were streaming out, getting into their rides and turning on engines. Mike followed me to Macy’s car, took me in his arms, and leaned me back against the chassis. I felt cold metal press into my backside and the warmth of his chest on the other side.
He kissed me long and slow, and I could still taste the hot sauce on his breath. It had been hours since my last beer, but the kiss left me feeling intoxicated again. I hung on as if in danger of falling. When he stepped back, I had to squash an instinct to leap at him again.
He smiled, genuinely happy. “Good night. Text me when you get home safe, okay?”
I nodded, too elated for words. I didn’t trust my knees or my fingers when they lowered me into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. He went around to his truck and waited until I had pulled away. I had to force myself to focus on the road all the way home. Inside, my heart was doing a happy dance, celebrating the beginning of what just might be my one and only true love story.
11
MIKE
It’s a good thing I had her number now because if I thought I would be satisfied after a second date, I was wrong. Not only was Tammy just as interesting and sexy as she had been that first night, but all our conversation had convinced me that she was honest and intelligent, too. Her laugh when I made a mockery of the line dance had been friendly, not insulting. Her innate shyness still made her seem like a mystery, even after we had shared the intimacy of my bed.
I told her some choice stories from my history, about my parents and my job. Working at the lumberyard was the only thing I had ever done. Unlike Tammy, who had bounced from job to job, I had stayed put. She had an abundance of places looking for receptionists, while I was pretty much guaranteed a job unless I burned the place to the ground. The only thing I wasn’t going to tell her about was prison. She didn’t need to know that yet. Of course, if I was going to propose to the girl, I would have to come clean. But we were far from that now, and I didn’t want to risk turning her off.