Page 33 of Laugh

I know I shouldn’t feel embarrassed, but I can’t help the insecure thoughts that this is just another thing that makes menotnormal. “I’m sorry, I just don’t have one.”

His low chuckle makes me feel slightly less awkward. “Happy, what’s your middle name?”

Wrinkling my nose, I answer him. “Elena.”

“And Haddie is short for Harriet, correct?” he asks. I answer with a nod because I don’t know why he’s changing the subject on my lack of vase decor. “Alright. Harriet Elena Byer, do you not have a vase because you’ve never received flowers?”

“Ew. Worst full name ever. Also, in my defense, I’ve never asked for them and my dad has always kept his flower buying limited to his wife. I haven’t bought them myself because I’m sure you can suspect that I’d find it difficult to keep them alive.” Dad buys the stepmonster flowers all the time, which I think is sweet because she really loves them.

Bouncing his head up and down like he’s understanding something, he asks, “You ready to go?”

“Uhh, yes? You’re really driving this conversation car all over the road on me.” Apparently, we’re moving on once again.

Snorting out a laugh, he grabs my hand to pull me toward the door. “Welcome to my world. Don’t worry about the flowers dying. Just keep water in there and pour in the plant food when you get home. They never last more than a week.”

“Wait!What’s your middle name?” I tug his hand to stop him, waiting for his answer.

He looks at me with a plea, silently asking me not to force him to answer. “That good, huh?” I ask, bouncing on my toes. With more than a hint of evil glee lacing my tone, I demand, “Spill, Cap.”

I giggle when his eyes close and he blurts out, “Arthur.”

“So, Beau Arthur Hudson?”

“Yep,” he bites out, resigned to his fate.

My smile grows even bigger when my brain sails through all the possibilities. “You gonna show me your sword, King Arthur?”

His eyes widen, then laughter explodes from deep within his chest. “Harriet Elena!We haven’t even gone to dinner yet!”

It only takes me a moment to hear what I said before I’m doubled over laughing like a fucking hyena. I can barely get the words out as I wheeze, trying to catch my breath. “I’m… not even… embarrassed. Fuckingepic.”

Both of us continue to laugh for another moment before we calm down while staring at each other. I watch as his smile changes from humorous to warm and welcoming. “You got everything you need?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, picking my purse up from the table we’re standing next to.

Reaching out for my hand again, I place mine in his and shudder when he gives it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go have some fun.”

Chapter 12

Dresses and Fire

Beau

In my defense, I thought taking Haddie to a hibachi grill for dinner would be a fun first date idea. Not that I was worried about stilted conversation if we were sitting alone together at a table. I figured she’d enjoy the activity and interactions of the cook with the diners.

Things started off great, if you ignore the fact that she put her flowers into a blender. Although, once she explained why she had to use her blender, I came to the decision that this woman was going to get flowers on the regular.Witha vase next time.

Walking into the restaurant was the first time we had a casualty. The place I chose had some metal art decorating the outside of the building, and while we were waiting to walk inside, she got too close to it. The lace on her dress caught on the metal, and when she stepped away, the tearing noise startled both of us. When I looked down, I saw that a good six inches of fabric was hanging lower on the right side of her skirt.

I offered to drive us back to her place so she could change, but she simply laughed me off and asked the hostess for a pair of scissors. A couple of minutes in the bathroom solved her problem, and she walked back to me wearing a dress that was considerably shorter than when she started the night.I didn’t complain. Haddie has phenomenal legs and being able to see more of them had my eyes wandering down a bit more often than they should have been.

Now, though? Now, the two of us are staring at a wall of flames that just exploded from the grill top while the chef stares at it with wide eyes and a hint of panic. The flames are rapidly spreading to the grease trap at the end of the cooktop, where we can hear the scraps of food and fat sizzling and popping.

The piece of shrimp that the chef had tossed a moment before is lying limp in Haddie’s lap. She missed catching it in her mouth as the flames erupted in front of us.

“That’s a lot of fire,” she whispers next to me. The sound of her voice is enough to jolt me out of my frozen state to grab her arm and yank her out of her chair.

“Fuck!God, move back Happy!” She stumbles as I pull her away from our table just as the fire suppression system releases a coating to douse the flames. Thankfully, we moved far enough away that it doesn’t hit us, but it splattered our neighbors with the spray.

---