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“Are you hungry yet?”
“I’m trying to decide between the street tacos or bacon-wrapped wings. Decisions, decisions.”
“How about I get the wings and you get the street tacos and we’ll share?” he suggested.
“Ooh, I like the way you think.”
He threw his baseball cap on backward. “I like you.”
“Thanks.”
“You don’t like me?”
“It’s still early in the night,” I teased. Though it was true. I was holding out judgment based on what I knew about him and, admittedly, Brooks’s warning. Brooks’s multiple warnings. He had texted me twice reminding me that Julian had been divorced three times and how short-lived his marriages were. All less than two years. Definitely not a good track record. But like I said, I was just here for the fun. Julian and I weren’t going to be a thing. I had texted Brooks back that I appreciated the warnings, but I didn’t need him to play big brother. He’d texted back that he never wanted to be my brother, only my friend. Believe me, I knew. Tom was totally off his rocker thinking Brooks was going to want to take me to the reunion. He wasn’t even going to be in town. And hello, he was dating Morgan, Julian’s sister. Which was weird, come to think of it.
Julian leaned in closer. I noticed some gray in his stubble. It was kind of sexy, and so was he, if I was being honest. His minty breath wafted my way. “I’ll see what I can do to tip the scales in my favor tonight.”
“Food is always a good way to start.”
“Food it is. I’ll be right back.”
“I can pay for my half.” I thought I should offer since this wasn’t a date, and after my last date, I wanted to find out if he thought we should be going dutch.
“Tonight’s all on me.”
“Thank you.”
“Save my seat.” He jumped up.
While he was gone, I soaked in the sun and savored the smell of the grass. I may have also checked out the butts of some of the players warming up on the field. Baseball pants were a special kind of pants. I got my phone out and took some pictures of the scenery, butts included, and texted them to Lorelai and Colette. Along with the picture I had snapped of Julian, unbeknownst to him. I had filled my bests friends in when I was getting ready for the game—which meant I threw on my pink Texas Rangers T-shirt and pulled my hair up in a messy bun—and they were curious about Julian and this turn of events.
I immediately got responses from them.
Dang, that Julian is yummy! And he’s a doctor? He might not be the marrying type, but please make out with him, Colette responded.
Darlin’, that is one fine man. Don’t let your eyes fool your heart, Lorelai wisely counseled. However, I agree with Colette. Lay a big one on him.
I giggled at my friends, wondering what it would be like to kiss Julian. I typically didn’t make out with men unless I saw some potential for a relationship. Not to say I hadn’t kissed someone in the moment. With Julian, I knew there was no potential; but friends did kiss, like I’d told Brooks. And there I went thinking about Brooks and his lips again. This needed to stop.
Julian returned in no time, bearing some fabulous-looking and delicious-smelling food. The aroma of bacon from the wings and the al pastor chicken and lime from the tacos was making my mouth water.
“Which do you want first?” He showcased each item like he was Vanna White.
“Um . . . tacos.”
“Excellent choice.” He handed over the cardboard container filled with tacos.
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” He settled back next to me.
I took no time tasting my chicken tacos. Holy crow, flavor explosion. “Mmm.” I chewed and swallowed. “These are amazing. Take a bite.” I held out the taco.
“We’re sharing germs already?”
“Does that bother you, Dr. Bronson?”
“Not at all.” He leaned in, his stubble tickling my fingers, and took a large bite. While he chewed, he groaned in pleasure. “That is good.”
Some juice had dribbled down his chin. I instinctively wiped it with my thumb, and his brow quirked. “Um . . . you had some juice there. I didn’t want it to stain your shirt.” Do not be seduced by his face, I reminded myself. But up close he was very pretty.
“Thanks, darlin’.” He leaned back and grabbed a wing.
I berated myself for being so touchy-feely and flirty, even though I found he made it so easy to interact that way. To recover from my eager fingers, I thought it best to get to know him. “What made you decide you wanted to be a doctor?”
“That’s classified information,” he said lightheartedly.
“Oh really. Like if you told me, you would have to kill me classified?”
“More like, I’d have to sue you if you ever divulged it.”
