Ethan smiles. “I’m glad you liked it. It’s true, though. You’re great at your job. I think you keep to yourself more because you’re afraid of something. You have a kind soul, maybe even an old soul, and…” He chews on his bottom lip. “Sorry, I’m assuming a lot about you, but I’d like to know you better. Outside of work, I mean.”
Okay. This is happening. Instead of a low pool of dread building, I feel almost giddy thinking of the things we could do. Ice cream from the Dairy Queen, sunrise by the creek, and mastering the use of the phone so I can take photos of us together.
“Do you want to go to the Saddle Up Saloon tonight? It’s Thirsty Thursday, and they make a great cheeseburger. They have great beer on tap if that’s your thing. Or mixed drinks. Nothing fancy, but they use good orange juice if you drink that.”
Oh my god, I’m babbling because I don’t know how to stop talking, and Ethan is smiling so big he looks extra cute. Which is apparently still the word my brain uses for him. Fuck, even my inside voice can’t shut up.
“I’d love to.”
“Really?” My voice pitches up, and I cringe. Jeez, you’d think I’m just leaving puberty and not an adult.
“Well, I sort of asked you in my note already. So yes, really.” Ethan stands and holds up a cowboy boot. “Do I need these to fit in at the saloon, or can I wear runners?”
“Wear what you’re comfortable with.”
He opts for the runners and stands waiting at the door while I’m still on the couch.
“Colt? Let’s get a cheeseburger.”
“Sorry. I just zoned out there. This is, ah, not something I’m good at.”
“You don’t know how to eat cheeseburgers?” Ethan jokes, and I smile.
“I don’t know how to date someone. It’s been a long time, and I want to apologize in advance for that.”
Ethan pauses at my truck before we get inside.
“Never apologize for who you are, Colt. I like you just fine as is, okay?”
I nod, and once we’re buckled, Ethan takes all the nerves away with a single sentence.
“If it helps, it’s not a date. We’re two friends out getting to know each other. No pressure.”
“Right. Friends.”
And I mean it for the first time in years. I like Ethan, and he makes me feel comfortable. Not many people do, yet he fits right in. Instead of shrinking away, I feel like I can be myself with Ethan.
“Do you have a favorite type of cheese?” I should be mortified about my question for this man, who is so well-traveled and experienced, that the most important thing I want to know about him is what cheese he likes.
But Iwantto know.
“That’s a tough one. I’m fond of a good swiss or provolone.I love provolone,” he answers as the scenery slides by. Perhaps I’m the only one who thinks it’s an odd question. “Wait, is this like the cream soda thing, and I need to pass a cheese test?”
A surprised laugh bursts past my lips.
“Well, I heard once that only sociopaths would say American cheddar was their favorite cheese.”
Ethan’s laugh fills the truck’s interior.
“I guess I passed both tests then.”
“You’re doing alright,” I concede with a smile.
Understatement. He’s already aced the exam.
Chapter 8
Ethan
