Page 32 of Boston
“There’s three stages?” he asked. “Is this a Miami thing?”
A scoff exploded out of her mouth, even as she smiled. “No,” she said. “This is a people-our-age thing.”
Boston finished his Cookie Monster salad and leaned back in his chair. He folded his arms across his chest. “I think this istotallya thing that’s different about Wyoming and Florida, because when I go out with a woman here, I’m just going out with her.”
“So do you call that dating?”
“Yeah,” Boston said.
“And is she your girlfriend?”
“Yes,” Boston said.
“And how many dates does that take?” Cora asked.
Boston’s gaze turned a little bit murderous, and Cora at least now knew something that irritated him.
“I don’t know,” he said. “There’s not a set number, but I know I don’t really want to go out with anyone else.” He reached over and took her hand in his. “I only want to go out with you. So if Julie wants to set me up with someone, I’ll just tell her that I met someone on my own.”
“What if she asks who it is?” Cora asked.
“Oh, she’ll ask,” Boston said. “But that doesn’t mean I have to tell her.” He raised his eyebrows. “Unless we’re gonna tell people.”
He released her hand and forked off a bite of pork that he paired with a cheesy morsel of potato. “So you tell me, Cora. Are you ready to tell people that we’re seeing each other?”
Cora’s heart squeezed inside her chest, suddenly feeling too big for the small space. “I think….” She trailed off, trying to gether thoughts to line up. “Maybe I should talk to my momma and sister before we say anything.”
“So you didn’t tell Jeremy?”
She shook her head. “I told him I was just testing out some of the new things, and that I wanted a homemade meal that didn’t come from a restaurant or kitchen here on the property.”
Boston nodded, and he didn’t seem upset that she hadn’t told her brother-in-law that they were dating. “All right,” he said. “What are they gonna think when they see my truck in your driveway?”
“I don’t know,” Cora said. “And it doesn’t really matter.”
“So it’s not really a secret.”
Cora shook her head. “No. But I want to handle it right. So let me talk to my momma and sister.”
She gave him a pointed look, and Boston waved one hand and said, “All right.”
He took another bite of food and then breathed out. “So, you went to town and bought a few things. Did you lay by the pool on Thursday? How was your massage?”
Cora rolled her head side to side. “It was amazing.”
Boston grinned. “I’m glad, Cora-Cat.”
“Why do you call me that?” she asked.
Boston raised one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know. You seem like a cat to me. Someone who wants to be comfortable and well taken care of.” He ducked his head, using the brim of his cowboy hat to hide his face. “And I want to do that. I want to make you comfortable and take care of you.”
Sweeter words had never been said to Cora. Not even from her boyfriend of three years.
“If you hate it, I don’t have to do it,” he said. “But I’m not usingsweetheartorbaby. Those aretotallyoverused in Wyoming.”
“Okay,” Cora said, giggling. “You don’t have to use those.”
Boston’s jaw jumped, and then he relaxed. “You’re actually a really good cook,” he said. “This is really delicious.”
