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“You mentioned you weren’t much of a social person this morning. That surprised me, but your explanation helps me understand better. I never considered myself a social butterfly until the book tours. Once I got a taste of it, I couldn’t get enough. I had no clue I was more than done with it until it was too late.”
“I thought about that earlier when you were talking. I think that happens to a lot of people and not just with attention. Cat ladies never know enough is enough.” I giggled.
“I suppose that’s true.” He laughed with me. “Maybe that’s the next book I should write. Deep thoughts from Ashford, Tennessee.”
“Oh, my goodness. Don’t say that too loud. People here would go nuts for that. Especially my mother.”
“Yeah, I doubt that’s the type of thing Shelby is looking for. I already piqued her interest when I told her I was writing again. If I gave her that title, she might finally forget my number.”
I stopped my cup in mid-air. Well, this was a recent development. “You’re writing again?”
“I guess we missed that part of the story. Yes.” He gave a shy smile. “Right after I dropped you off the other morning. I’m about halfway through the first draft. If you’d like to read it, you can. Just don’t be too hard on me.”
“The morning I stormed off.” Worry lines formed on my forehead.
He shook his head, and I could tell he was thinking.
I hadn’t meant to make him feel bad. Hopefully, that didn’t mean we needed to fight with every writing drought. I tried to make the best of it, defaulting to humor when I was uncomfortable.
“I’m choosing to believe it was the sex and not the tantrum that broke your ten-year drought. I mean, I’m quite convincing if I do say so. If you’re on the fence, we can explore it a bit further.”
“Well now, I’m torn. Do I ask for more evidence or vote your way?” He held up his hands, acting like he was weighing two sides. “You know what? You might be right. I’ll take that answer. Especially if it means I’m rewarded with more sexual marathons.”
Poor Sandy dropped off our food just then. It was hard to miss the red on her earlobes and cheeks. Wonderful. Now we’d have to tip her even more.
“Can I get anything else for you?” she offered, just above a whisper.
“We’re good. Sorry.”
She scurried off as quickly as she’d arrived. Of all the servers, we had to get the grandma of the bunch. Halfway through our meal, a man in an apron walked up to our table. He looked familiar, but I wasn’t sure exactly where I knew him from.
“Well, two times in a couple of days means I should formally introduce myself. I’m Mickey. You two were at the bonfire the other night, right?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. I was worried Mickey was Sandy’s son and we were in trouble for our R-rated breakfast talk. Once he mentioned the bonfire, I realized he’d been playing horseshoes.
“We were. I’m Landon.”
“I’m Tara. It’s nice to meet you, Mickey.”
“If you don’t mind me admitting, I’m a big fan.” He looked at Landon. “I used to read your stories to my mother when she was in the hospital for her dialysis.”
“Thank you. I hope it helped her to heal.”
Mickey thanked him as well and headed to another booth. I watched as he made his way around several of the customers. He seemed like a nice guy.
“You handled that well,” I whispered once I knew he was out of earshot.
“Those types of things never bothered me. Real people offering their appreciation. That’s why I wanted to write in the first place. To create worlds that allowed the readers to drift away from their own issues for a little bit. Not to be too full of myself, but the ability to do that is magical.”
“I agree. That’s not being full of yourself—that’s being proud of what you can do. Not everyone has the ability to transport people beyond their worries.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt again, but I hope you’ll accept this cheesecake as my thanks. And it might be a bit of a bribe to come back often.” Mickey placed the cheesecake wrapped up on the table.
“That’s sweet. Thank you.” I gestured.
Sandy was right behind him with our bill. Landon pulled out his wallet, giving her his card. As they both walked away, he leaned over the table, motioning for me to come closer. My body tingled a bit. Was he going to kiss me?
“The cheesecake is all yours. I’m not a fan.”
“I’ll make note of that for the article,” I teased, a little disappointed. “I’m sure it will put a whole new spin on your reputation.”
“Funny. That’s something just for you.” He winked. “Speaking of my reputation. I don’t have a washer or dryer at my house, so Foley’s Dry Cleaning is my best option. I’m wondering what discount I can get if the owners know I’m infatuated with their daughter.”
