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Wes does get a few looks though, from every gender.
He’s a big guy, handsome as hell too. A little look-see from other folks doesn’t bother me, as long as nobody wants to try and steal him away from me, I don’t mind at all.
If anyone looks at me, it’s a passing glance and it’s not until later I realize why. But for now, I’m in heaven and I’m starving hungry too.
I let him choose a place to eat at. A burger joint doesn’t sound that amazing, but the smells and what we see others eating convinces us both instantly.
In seconds we’re seated and Wes orders us both huge cheeseburgers with monster fries.
The food arrives fast and we’re both eating in no time.
Wes likes to eat, I can see that. And despite the size of the burgers and fries, even washed down with a soda each, we make pretty light work of our meals.
“Wow,” is all I can manage, leaning back in my seat and puffing air out of my cheeks.
Wes stifles a bubbly burp into his napkin and excuses himself, still licking his lips as he starts to fondle the menu again.
“You can’t still be hungry?” I ask him in disbelief.
He simply shrugs and starts humming to himself.
“I’m done,” I tell him, hoping he doesn’t expect me to match his food intake, but he’s fine with that.
“I’m glad to see you eat,” he says earnestly. “Me, I have to eat a lot. I’m surprised I skipped so many meals since yesterday,” he adds.
Makes sense though, a man this big needs a lot of fuel, and I don’t mind sitting and watching him devour another of the same before he admits he might be feeling full.
“Save some room for dinner,” I suggest, chuckling.
Gasping with a start as I feel his hand under the table, gripping my leg and climbing up towards my lap.
“Oh, I’ve already got dessert on my mind,” he announces with a low growl, grinning like the devil, almost making me forget where we are.
Wes doesn’t want to embarrass me, so he reels in his passion for now and calls for the check.
“Enjoy your meals?” The waiter asks cheerfully, and Wes and I agree wholeheartedly.
“Never seen anybody tackle two of those burgers with fries so quickly,” he adds, impressed by Wes’s appetite.
“I bet your dad has a huge grocery bill,” he exclaims to me, his face falling once he senses he’s gone way too far. Said the wrong thing.
“And what the hell does that mean?” Wes growls, his whole body tensing.
The waiter takes a step back, stammering in apology. “I just mean, well. Your daughter must be used to you having such big meals. I didn’t mean anything by it, sir.”
I shoot Wes a ‘please don’t’ look, knowing he has a temper that could outweigh his appetite any day, especially when it comes to protecting me.
“Wes doesn’t have a daughter, as far as I know,” I announce calmly but firmly. “And I don’t have a father, if you must know,” I add truthfully, putting an end to the whole thing in one sentence.
The waiter mumbles another apology and slinks away, sending someone else back with the receipt, who’s equally ashamed and apologizing profusely as we get up to leave.
Wes seems bothered, and not so much by what the waiter said as my reply to it.
We walk in silence, aimlessly really and I can’t help but feel I’ve put a wet blanket over the whole day.
Maybe once Wes gets to know the real me, he won’t be so interested after all.
But once Wes relaxes and calms himself a little, that’s when I realize how tense I am.
I’ve clamped my jaw shut so tight it aches and my hands are like balls of lead, clenched at the end of my arms.
Once we’re near a park, Wes takes me by the arm and sits us down on a bench.
“You wanna tell me about it?” he asks, and I feel my head shaking in the negative.
“That’s okay,” he tells me. “I shouldn’t have flown off the handle like that, but that guy assuming you were my daughter…”
“Why?” I ask angrily. “Because I’m half your age? Because I’m old enough to be your daughter?”
I can see it hurts Wes to hear me say it, but we’re both thinking the same thing.
We can be ourselves in private, but a huge guy like him, twice my age and hand in hand with a short chubby girl he kisses in public? It’s gonna have people talking, to our faces and behind our backs.
Either way, it’s something I can tell Wes hadn’t really thought about until now.
“We can go home,” he suggests. “To my place, I have a house in the hills there,” he adds, jutting his chin towards the orange glow dotted with green that’s the horseshoe of hills surrounding the town.
