Page 33 of Unlikely You

“Not much.”

That wasn’t even a lie. What did I do for fun? Come up with new marketing strategies. Do research on SEO. And when all that was done, I read. Reading was probably the only thing I did. Reading, playing with Arson, eating sweets in bed, baths. That was about it.

She nodded as if I’d actually said something. “I know how that is. I feel like I don’t have much time for anything fun. I read a lot though. In case you ever need a book recommendation.”

We definitely didn’t read the same kind of books. I could only picture Honey reading the most achingly sweet and fluffy romances where the characters just stared at each other and every single touch was fraught with tension. Nothing wrong with that, but sometimes I just wanted to read a book about women getting railed. Or railing other sapphics. As long as someone was getting railed and it was described in excruciating detail multiple times.

Honey would probably be totally scandalized by some of the stuff I’d read, no doubt.

“Have you been to Between the Sheets? It’s a romance bookstore. Actually, it’s not that far away. You should go, if you haven’t.”

Now I had to say something.

“I know. They’re one of my vendors.”

Instead of flinching away from my tone, she just acted like I’d told her something wonderful.

“Oh no way! That’s so cool. I’ll have to pay attention better next time I go in. I usually get totally lost in the books and forget they have other things.”

This woman definitely hadn’t gone behind the little curtain to see the more adult items at Between the Sheets. Absolutely not. She’d probably faint.

Our order still wasn’t up, so she just kept talking about the book she was reading and I almost opened my mouth and told her I’d read the same one, but that would be participating in the conversation and I wasn’t going to do that, so I kept my jaw clenched shut.

After what seemed like an eternity, our order was finally at the window.

“I’ll get it,” I told her, grabbing for the tray.

“Thanks,” she said, reaching for napkins. “Where do you want to sit?”

There were several other picnic tables right on the water with umbrellas to protect them from the sun. I nodded toward one that had just been vacated.

“That looks good.”

We both sat down on opposite sides, Honey demurely tucking her dress under before sitting down.

She handed me some napkins and I tucked them under the tray so they wouldn’t blow away with the soft ocean breeze.

I had to admit, if only to myself, that it was nice to be outside. My mind wouldn’t stop running through all the things I should be doing with my time right now instead of having lunch with Honey Holloway, though.

Speaking of Honey, she let out a happy little sigh and picked up her lobster roll after she’d gotten some ketchup for her onion rings. Gross.

“You can’t beat this view, even if the food was awful,” she said, gazing out at the bay. She did have a point, but I wasn’t going to let her know that.

I let myself watch her a little as she ate, her manners clean and neat. No loud sounds or chewing to even annoy me.

“Mmm, this is perfect,” she said when she was halfway through her roll.

It really was. The lobster was fresh and sweet and had just the right ratio of meat to buttered bun.

A few kids ran by and Honey laughed at their antics.

“My brother is at basketball camp right now and I’m expecting he’s going to make that his entire personality for the rest of the summer. I’m not looking forward to how many things he’s going to break by bouncing a ball in the house.” She huffed out a breath that sounded like fondness.

“Arrow, right?” I asked. Shit. Now I was engaging in conversation.

Honey gave me a dimpled grin. “Archer. Close, though.”

I wanted to make fun of their names, but that was just a little too mean.

---