Page 89 of First Love, Second Draft

“Good point.” His elbow racked against the doorframe as he spun to leave. “My arm’s fine. Don’t worry,” he said over his shoulder.

“I was more concerned about the doorframe,” she called after him.

“Thirty minutes. I’m starting the clock now,” he said halfway down the stairs.

“You can’t rush a lady.”

“I can if we have reservations,” he hollered from the bottom of the stairs.

“I thought you said I got to pick the restaurant,” she hollered back.

He turned at the front door. “I made Scotty get us reservations everywhere just in case.”

“This is getting serious.”

“You have no idea,” he muttered as he closed the door shut behind him.

52

A couple hours later, seated in a hardwood booth, listening to Dean Martin classics with a curvy glass pitcher of water slowly disappearing between them, Noah allowed his shoulders to finally relax. “Want another piece of bread?”

“I do. But I could barely squeeze into this dress as it was.”

And don’t think Noah didn’t notice how fabulous she looked squeezed into that dress. He sliced off another piece of bread for himself as Gracie nestled back in her seat, her gaze sweeping across the room. “That old couple over there must recognize you,” she said with a smirk. “They keep whispering and looking this way.”

“Nope. That’s all for you.”

“Please.”

“It’s true. I met the husband in the bathroom. He couldn’t stop yammering about how much his wife loved your last book and how she’s read it so many times, the cover is falling off.”

“Now I know you’re lying. Nobody loved my last book. I didn’t even love my last book.” Gracie’s eyes peeked in their direction. “She’s waving at me.”

“Told you so.”

Gracie slowly lifted her hand and waved back.

Noah leaned across the table. “Put a nice lady out of her misery and just go over and say hi.”

Gracie’s eyes narrowed like she still thought this might be some sort of practical joke. But when the lady wouldn’t stop waving, she slid from the booth.

Noah watched her introduce herself to the couple. The woman waved her hands in grand gestures that Noah interpreted to mean how grand her love was for that book.

When Gracie returned to the booth a few minutes later, her cheeks looked flushed with equal parts embarrassment and satisfaction. “She loved my last book. She named a chipmunk they like to feed in their backyard after the lead character.”

Noah lifted his wine glass. “To your fans.”

Gracie laughed and raised her glass. “To the one of them that’s still left.”

“Hey, you know I’m still a fan. Pretty sure the FedEx lady is too.”

“The FedEx lady, I can believe. You? Not so much. Pretty sure my stories were never ‘up your a’ as Mayor Abe would say.”

Noah nearly choked on his water. “I’m sorry, up my what?”

“Alley. A.”

“I’d definitely advise sticking to the entire word if you’re going to use that expression.”

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