Page 44 of Time for Change

“This is great, thank you,” Jack says, stepping up beside me. I can feel the warmth of his body seeping through my clothes. “Are you okay?”

I look up and meet his concerned gaze. The anxiety I felt just moments ago seems to fade away. As if entirely on its own, my eyes take a quick glance around the room. “Oh, uh, yes.” Taking a deep breath, I add, “It’s just everyone is staring at me.”

“They’re not staring at you. They’re staring at me.”

My eyes narrow. “That makes no sense,” I mutter.

He waves his hand toward the booth, allowing me to slide in first. When he joins me on the same side, our back to the majority of the room, he reaches over and helps me slide off my coat. As soon as it’s positioned on the seat against the wall, he takes my hand and says, “They’re staring at me because they’re trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing with such a beautiful woman. One who lit up the entire restaurant when she walked through the door. They’ve all known me probably my entire life, and they’re wondering what a schmuck like me is doing with this stunning, mysterious woman.” Bringing my hand to his lips, he kisses my knuckles gently.

“I think you’re completely full of shit, but that was a nice touch,” I murmur, lost in the sea of his ocean blue eyes.

He chuckles, releasing my hand and reaching for the menus. “I speak the truth, Stevie.”

I take a few minutes and browse the menu options, and as expected, some of the wording is in Spanish. I’d love to try something new. I’ve always stuck to my comfort zone foods, and tonight, I think it’s time to step out of it. I recall what Jack said his daughter, Gianna, gets, which sounds delicious. “What is it your daughter gets?” I ask, scanning the pictures to see if it’s there.

Glancing at my menu, he taps the hard plastic and says, “This one.Pollo Loco.”

I nod. “That’s what I’m going to get.”

“You sure?” he asks, taking my menu as I close it.

“Yep. It sounds great, and I’m trying something different.”

Two glasses of water appear, as well as a basket of warm chips and fresh salsa. “Good evening. Can I get you anything else to drink?”

Jack looks my way, a single eyebrow raised in question. “What do you say? They make great margaritas.”

I can feel the warmth of my blush creeping up my neck. “Umm, I should probably just stick to water.”

And that’s when he realizes what he said. He gives me a sheepish grin, and if I’m not mistaken, blushes himself.

“I’ll just have water,” I tell the server.

“Me too,” Jack replies.

“Do you need a minute to order?” she asks, ready to jot our selections on the notepad.

“I’m ready. I’ll have the Pollo Loco, please.”

“And I’ll have the Carne Asada burrito. No beans, extra rice,” he replies, handing both menus over to the server.

“I’ll get this right in,” she says before scurrying off to the next table.

“Sorry about that,” he mutters, still looking slightly embarrassed.

“It’s fine, really, and just because I can’t drink, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t,” I tell him, reaching for a chip and dipping it in salsa.

He shrugs, following suit and taking his own chip from the basket. “I’m not a big drinker, actually. I rarely ever do it when I have my kids and never when I’ll have to drive.”

Feeling the need to lighten the mood, I joke, “So, you don’t want me to drive your truck?”

He laughs. “No, nothing like that. You can drive my truck anytime you want,” he says, his eyes drawing me in like a moth to a flame. I find myself leaning his way, hoping to maybe steal a kiss before our entrees arrive, when I hear a now-familiar voice.

“What the hell are you doing with my sister?”

I startle and pull back, my wide eyes flying to where Jameson and his family stand before our booth. “Jameson. Hi.” My voice comes out a little squeaky, mostly because I’m a little thrown off by the fact he referred to me as his sister.

In public.

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