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ChapterTen
Beau
He was leaning on the wall across from her apartment when she opened her door, just waiting. Her hair was wet, and her face was scrubbed clean. Not a stitch of makeup on her, and she was more beautiful than he could have imagined. Wearing a yellow dress and sandals, she was sunshine in human form.
“Wow.” He caged her between his arms and kissed her like he hadn’t seen her in ages. In twenty-four hours, she’d turned him into a loyal Labrador, happy to lie at her feet or follow her anywhere.
“Wow, yourself.” She ran her hand over the gray cotton T-shirt that hugged his chest. “We better leave, or we’ll never see the light of day. Besides, I’m starving.”
“You’re always hungry.” He tucked her arm in his and walked her to the stairwell. “You eat more than I thought you did, and you’re still a beanpole.”
“How flattering.” She punched his arm. “Every girl waits for the day a cute guy will call her a beanpole. I eat like a pig, but somehow, I stay thin. Trust me. It’s not because I starve myself. I can eat anyone under the table.”
“It’s probably these damn stairs, all those hours on your feet, and making my work life hell.” He regretted the words as soon as they came out.
“Are we done with neutrality?” She gripped his arm tighter as they descended the stairs.
“Hell no, forget I said that.” He stopped her on the second floor and kissed her, hoping to distract her enough to forget his stupid words.
Once outside, she guided him to Sixteenth Street, where she tossed a few dollars into the guitar case of a street performer they passed. A noodle house called Chow Chow was stuck between the Da Vinci Museum and a drugstore.
Bobbie lit up when they walked inside. She was obviously a regular since the staff knew her by name. An older Asian woman seated them.
The woman scanned him from top to bottom. “Bobbie, you got a boyfriend?” She stood back and crossed her arms over her chest.
Bobbie’s face scrunched up as she stared at him. He sat back and waited for her response. How would she define their relationship? Boyfriend had a pleasant sound to it.
“Ms. Joy, this is Beau, and we aren’t defined yet.” Bobbie looked across the table. Was she waiting for him to claim her? He’d do it in less time than it took his heart to beat. Just as he opened his mouth, Ms. Joy talked.
“Good for you, Bobbie. It’s always good to test-drive before you buy.” Joy turned around and left.
“So, are you test-driving me?” The idea of a test drive didn’t sound appealing, leaving room for trade-ins and upgrades.
“I’ve already had a test drive, and I like the ride. We’ll see how many of your other features I fall for.” She slid her foot up his leg.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” She played dirty. Every one of her touches sent his hormones into overdrive, and she knew it.
“Oh, I can finish, but food comes first.”
He looked over the menu but didn’t know what anything was. Chinese food wasn’t a go-to meal for him. “All right, you order what you want, and I’ll pay.”
Joy brought them tea and took their order. Bobbie said, “two times the regular,” and he piped in with, “add an order of potstickers.” That and white rice were the only things he recognized.
Bobbie was comfortable wherever she was, whether at a restaurant, in his bed, or chained to the door. That kind of confidence was sexy.
“This morning, you said your dad died, but you didn’t sound broken up by it.” He sipped his tea and watched her over the edge of the cup. Her confident demeanor never faltered.
“I was fourteen years old. He was a long-haul trucker, so I never saw much of him, and when he was home, he wasn’t interested in entertaining his little girl.”
“That’s rough. My dad was gone for days at a time, visiting construction sites, or traveling, but he was home for lengths of time as well, which allowed us to get close.”
Bobbie reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “I’m so sorry. I at least knew my mom’s death was coming. You had no warning.”
“Nope. We didn’t get a confirmation immediately that my dad had died. That wouldn’t come for weeks, but somehow, we knew. Kyle and my dad had started down the stairwell together, but they had run into a woman who had fallen. They stopped to help her, but my dad shoved Kyle forward and told him to keep going and he would catch up. He never did.” He’d never experienced anything so painful as the loss of his father. Now he sat in front of a woman who could squeeze his chest with unrestrained emotion. Could he let himself be that vulnerable? The answer was yes because each moment he was with Bobbie was the happiest in his existence.
Joy approached, carrying several plates of food. There was a chicken dish, a beef dish, a mystery dish, and potstickers. “You,” she pointed at him, “you are spicy, but this,” she pointed to the mystery dish, “this is spicy-spicy. You be careful.” Joy disappeared as fast as she came.
“Was she flirting with me?” He picked up a fork and stabbed at a potsticker. It was better to start with something familiar.
