Page 35 of About That Night

She’s giving me the perfect way to tease her and lighten the mood.

“All the F words.”

“Oh, geez,” she says.

That makes me laugh. “Eat your damn salad.”

Chapter Ten

Chastity

“Hank, this is fantastic,” I breathe as I wander through the old courthouse three days later. “How did you ever envision something so cool out of something so gross?” It’s dirty and rundown, but Hank has opened his laptop and shown me the renderings for the restaurant, and it’s fresh and young with a playful homage to the original architecture. It looks like you both could go on a romantic date or have a rousing dinner out with friends based on the tables and decor.

He crosses his arms across his chest and looks around the building with undeniable pride. “Seriously? You think it’s cool?”

I nod. “Uh, very cool. Look at this ceiling.” It’s two-story height inside the building, with elaborate murals of cypress trees on the ceiling and what I think is supposed to be Lady Justice traipsing through the swamp, blindfolded. “It’s ironically sexy for a courthouse, isn’t it?”

“Right?” he says. “God, they were so dramatic back in the day. It’s more bordello than courthouse. That’s why I’m planning to bring the dark hunter green and moody black down the walls and into the decor.”

It’s almost too cool for this town, but then again, folks might find it fascinating to see the conversion. “When did the courthouse close?”

“Ten years ago. Can you imagine being arraigned here?” He points to the massive judge’s bench. “Some judge up there glaring down at you? Ominous.”

“There’s definitely a gothic tone.”

“I want to hint at that, but not lean in too hard. This isn’t New Orleans. We’re going bayou goth.”

“That should be a new trend. Screw farmhouse style,” I say. “Bayou goth is the next big thing.”

He laughs. “I doubt it, but I think it’s going to work here.” Then Hank takes my hand. “Come here. Let me show you the old holding cells.”

His hand feels big and strong in mine.

“The cells are still in?” I ask, morbidly curious. “Have you ever been arrested?”

“Three times. But it was all for stupid shit.” He leads me through a door next to the judge’s bench. “Have you?”

“What? No, of course not.”

He grins back at me. “What do you mean, ‘of course not?’ So you assume I’ve been arrested, but I’m supposed to know you haven’t been?”

That seems pretty obvious to me. “Yes. I was right, wasn’t I? You’ve been arrested.”

“Damn it. You beat me with logic. I hate that.”

He doesn’t look like he hates anything. He looks pretty pleased with himself and life in general. I envy Hank’s confidence. He definitely doesn’t seem to worry about other people’s opinions.

“You’re smart to be such a good girl,” he says, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“There was a time in my life when I would have been so offended by that label, but to be honest, I was never as wild as I pretended to be. And now, my authentic adult self is very tame. Did I tell you I like to do puzzles, and I just learned to knit? Nevaeh says I’m granny chic.”

He laughs. “As long as you’re having fun. And you get to define what’s fun, right?”

“I’m not having as much fun as I could. I’d like to have a little more fun. But the days seem to just disappear.”

“That’s what nights are for. Have you done your homework?” he asks.

I nod. “I did. I set up my dating profile, and I didn’t even agonize over the wording or the selfie choice. You would be very proud of me.”

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