Page 8 of He Saved My Boy
Quickly pondering our choices here in town, I let out a laugh. “I have no freaking clue. Should we drive down Main Street to see what’s available?”
Reaching out to pat me on the leg as I drive, she smiles. “I think I could be up for that.”
“Hopefully, we’ll find something good.”
Driving down Main Street, we find some of the diners are closed, but there are a few places open. Deacon isn’t that big—so before we know it, we’re on the other side of town, and I’m turning around. Of course, we still haven’t decided. But riding with her, I don’t mind retracing our steps.
“Welp, it looks like we have chicken or steak on the menu.” Teagan chuckles. “The steak house might be too much food for this time of day; do you mind if we check out Kickin’ Chicken?”
“I’m game for just about anything,” I admit, then realize what I’ve said. “No pun intended.”
As we pull into the parking lot, even though I see a drive-thru, I pull into a parking space. “Mind if we go in?” There’s no way I’m ready to rush things along.
“Not at all—part of my me-cation involves slowing down and doing the things I never get to do.”
What does that mean? “You don’t eat out?”
If I weren’t paying attention, I wouldn’t have seen her brows knit and her lips purse. But as quickly as whatever she was thinking came on—it disappears with the shake of her head. On a long sigh, she says, “No. I don’t get a lot of time to go out… well, I take that back. I drive through a lot of places—but never take the time to go inside and just enjoy a meal.”
She is preaching to the choir. “You and me both,” I start, then inspiration hits me. “Let’s make a deal. Since we’re both on a me-cation of sorts, let’s spend the rest of the day doing all the things we never get the chance to do in our regular lives.”
Her light-blue eyes dance with mischief as a smile plays on her lips. “You sure you wanna commit to that? You have no idea just howlittlelife I have.”
Chuckling lightly, I hedge, “It can’t be that bad.”
Teagan’s chin lifts in challenge. “You may be in for a hell of a lot more than you bargain for.” Her eyes twinkle, and her confidence is sexy as hell, making me want to throw down a challenge of my own.
Just as I’m about to open the door to get out of my SUV, I look her in the eye. “I’m fairly certain I can handle just about anything you throw at me.”
I’m frozenin place as Davis’s words replay on a loop in my mind.I’m fairly certain I can handle just about anything you throw at me.
Holy hell. I’m certain he meant that in the most innocent way possible—but the way he looked at me had me heating in places I forgot existed.
Down, girl—he meant nothing by it.
There’s no way in hell he’d know just how little I get to experience in my daily life.
But the thought of coloring outside the lines does sound intriguing.
Before I know it, he’s at my door, and a warm burst of air flows through.
As Davis smiles down at me, all I can do is stare back in return, captivated by his handsome features as thoughts of all the things I haven’t done in forever flood my mind. Before it gets awkward, I swear I hear Annie’s voice whisper to me togo for it!The words jolt me out of my revelry.
Reaching for my hand, he helps me out of the car. That simple touch alone sends a bolt of electricity through my spine and has me eager to see what will come of the day. Instead of letting go of my hand, like I’d expect, he holds it until we get to the door.
A cold burst of air escapes as we walk inside. It’s dark inside the entry compared to the brightness of the day, so it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. When everything comes into focus, a life-size metal sculpture of a rooster stares back at me between the hostess stand and me, and I jump back in surprise.
“Well, cock-a-doodle-do to you,” I mutter, trying not to bump into it.
“Well… that’s just….” Davis’s mouth drops open and closes as if he’s unsure what to say.
“One giant cock?” I quickly supply. Then I throw my hands over my mouth. “Oh my God… I did not just say that.”
But as I look around the restaurant, I see we’re surrounded by more roosters than I can count. They’re on the walls, decorating the walkways, as far as the eye can see. It’s like I’ve stepped into Cracker Barrel but instead of antiques, the place is decorated with chickens. “Holy shit—they’re everywhere!” The words escape before I think better of it.
“Well, you did say you wanted to get out of your comfort zone,” Davis deadpans as he darts his eyes from display to display around the room.
Before we can contemplate further, a chipper woman comes up to greet us. “Howdy, welcome to Kickin’ Chicken. Whether it’s barbecued, grilled, stripped, or fried, we’re bound to find a dish you’re dying to try. Let me get you seated.” She grabs two menus and some water glasses before walking in the direction of a table across the room.
