Page 70 of A Not So Merry Rescue
“For breakfast, their avocado toast. For lunch, the grilled cheese and tomato soup combo is my go-to.”
“Is that what you’re getting?”
“Was waiting to see what you want. If you want to share something, we could do that. If you want to each order our own, we can do that, too.”
I scan the menu again, getting stuck on the sandwiches section. “I’m a sucker for buffalo chicken sandwiches.”
Beckett nods. “Good choice.”
“But the tomato soup and grilled cheese combo sounds good, too. Want to go halfsies on the meals?”
“Sure.”
I stare into his blue eyes, the color deepened by the dark green sweatshirt he sports, his auto body shop logo front and center. “Are you agreeing with me for me or are you agreeing because that’s what you want?”
He ponders my question before shrugging. “Honestly, a little of both. I’m not too picky when the food’s good, but I get a rise out of making you smile. If sharing sandwiches will do that for you, I’m here for it.”
“You know how to sweet-talk the ladies, make them swoon. The ladies of Winterberry Junction are a lucky bunch.” Like earlier, something yanks at my heart at the suggestion of him with another woman. Even when Elias and I first started dating,I wasn’t this territorial, and that relationship had the potential to turn into more.
I don’t know what to make of this realization. It’s probably a good idea not to delve into it.
Beckett laughs. “Not when you’ve known them all since before elementary school. Or rather, they’ve known me for that long. Hard to find a solid relationship with someone you’ve known your entire life.”
“Valid point. Guess it’s the tourists who have an advantage.”
“Like you.”
“For sure. Women like me.” My cheeks heat under his watchful examination. Thankfully, Justine reappears with our drinks.
“All set?” Her pen hovers above her notepad.
“Yep. Two bowls of the tomato soup, grilled cheese on sourdough, and the buffalo chicken wrap, substitute ranch instead of bleu cheese.”
“What kind of cheese for the grilled cheese?”
He defaults to me. “Swiss or American?” I propose.
“Swiss,” he confirms to Justine, handing our menus to her.
“Super. I’ll go put this in.” With a last glance in Beckett’s direction, she skirts away from the table.
“Not a fan of bleu cheese?” I infer.
“I’ll eat it if there’s nothing else available, but Bonnie’s ranch—she’s the chef and owner here—is out of this world fantastic.”
I admire him for not asking if I’d mind the substitution and instead making the change. Not that I’ll let him know it.
“What if I want bleu cheese?”
“I’ll get you some on the side.”
Damn, didn’t account for him to have a reasonable answer ready. It’s not flippant, but genuine, like the man himself.
I forgo asking more about Marlene and Birdie. I don’t care enough to know. They’ll be a distant memory as soon as I hit the town limits. Instead, I ask, “How was the holiday breakfast?” I’m proud of myself for speaking without a stutter.
“Fun and rowdy. Participants enjoyed themselves.” A full-on smile broaches his lips, his enthusiasm infectious until I remember why he’s excited. He takes a sip of his Coke.“What did you do? Get any words?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t feel like dealing with a blank screen, so I didn’t attempt to write. I’ll try after lunch, but I’m not hopeful.”
