“Fair point. Let’s just go fucking eat.” I pull out of my driveway and head down the street toward my favorite little breakfast spot. It has that old-school diner feel, perfect for a no-pressure meal together.
We score a booth in the back corner next to the window when we arrive. It’s arguably the best table in the place, and I only know that because I’ve sat in probably all of them over the years. This place has been here a while, and before Lyric came along, I ate here a lot.
“Good morning, Waylon,” the waitress calls from behind the counter.
I wave at her and pull a menu from the holder. I slide it in front of Lyric and don’t bother getting one for myself.
“You know her?” Lyric asks, tilting her head.
“I’ve been here a lot,” I say, shrugging. “The pancakes are delicious.”
“When do you come here?”
“Well, to be honest, I haven’t been here very recently. Not since you moved in.” I scratch my beard and peer out the window at the people walking by.
“How come? It seems like a nice little place. Did you not want to share this hidden gem with me?” she asks, a teasing quality to her tone.
“Lyric, you’ve been cooking every meal. And it’s been fucking delicious.” I lean in, whispering the rest. “And this place is great but I’m not about to choose it over your cooking.”
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise as she presses her lips together into a tight line, trying to bury the smile she so desperately wants to plaster on her face.
“Perhaps I should cook less? You know, so we can support our local economy,” she says.
It’s hard to argue against it when she phrases it like that, because of course I want to support small business. It’s really important.
“What do you propose?”
“Well, you work late at least one day a week and so do I,” she says, tapping her fingers against the table. “How about we try to get those to line up and agree to breakfast here instead?”
“You want… a standing weekly breakfast date?” I lift an eyebrow, intrigued by her idea.
“No one said the word date, cowboy,” she says, shaking her head.
“Still, I’ll take it.”
Lyric extends her hand across the table and we shake, agreeing on next Tuesday to start the official schedule.
We give the waitress our orders and talk about how work is going for both of us. I mention that I’ve been thinking about getting Tater a little brother or sister for when no one is home, which she thinks is a great idea. She tells me her and Darcy are going dress shopping soon and how she can’t believe they’re getting married in such a short period of time. We pretty much cover every topic except what’s going on between us.
I’m not going to risk asking. She already sort of called this off once, and I’d rather not risk that happening again. Who knows how much begging it would take to change her mind again. Best to leave well enough alone until it’s absolutely necessary.
And the last thing I want to do is say something I can’t take back. I still don’t even know what this is, so asking her about it when I don’t have the answers myself is dumb. Practically self-sabotage. Yeah, I’d rather not.
For now, we’re just… enjoying each other. Two people should be able to do that without a plan, without labels, and without a goal in mind. Maybe we call it off at some point and maybe we just keep going.
Only time will tell.
CHAPTER 23
LYRIC
Everything isfine and nothing is on fire. Oh, who am I kidding, my flabbers are ghasted. I don’t know what’s going on, but Waylon has been very attentive since he brought me home from the bar last week.
From breakfast the next morning to last night when he suggested we watch a movie on the couch. He put my feet in his lap and rubbed them, for crying out loud. What the hell is that about? I’m not complaining but I am likehey, man, what’s up with that?
I’m not going to make the mistake of asking, though. No way. What if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it? Or how it feels to me. I mean, it might not be the real thing, but whatever it is, it’s nice.
If it were purely physical, I would’ve been over him a long time ago. I can swoon over a man’s body with the best of them, but I will lose interest if all they are is their looks. Waylon hasalways been different to me. Even when we first met and I took his hat and all I had to go on was that short interaction.
