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“Probably the burger,” Bailey replies, systematically shredding the napkin at her spot.
She didn’t say much when I told her that Kyle was meeting us for lunch. Between her nerves and Kyle’s tardiness, I feel my own anxiety level rising.
“Are you ladies ready to order?” The waitress who led us to this table appears, notepad in hand.
“I think we need another few minutes. Thanks,” I tell her.
She shrugs, fills the water glasses, and then walks off.
“This place is cool, huh?” I say, looking at the longhorn skull on the wall that I hope is fake, but probably isn’t.
“Yeah. I didn’t know what to expect here. I’ve never been. Grandma and Grandpa always come see us.”
“Aside from the fair tonight, do you have anything fun planned?”
“Not really.” More napkin pieces flutter on the table. “They don’t really know kid stuff.”
“Kyle might have some ideas,” I say. “He grew up here nottoolong ago.” I wait, but no smile. “He knew about this place.”
Bailey nods. “It’s nice.” She glances around. “What are you getting to eat?”
“Oh. Uh, probably the salad.”
“My stepmom only eats salads. But you’re already thin.”
“I’m not trying to lose weight. I just, uh, don’t eat meat.”
“That’s cool,” Bailey says.
The restaurant door opens, and Kyle steps inside. I exhale a subtle sigh of relief. It turns into amusement when the older couple seated closest to the door immediately stands to talk to him.
It takes Kyle another five minutes to reach our table. He apologizes as he steps into the seat beside me, sitting much closer than the large picnic table requires.
“Sorry I’m late. Ran into a few people outside who were…chatty.” He focuses on Bailey. “How was shopping?”
She glances at me. I nod.
Bailey climbs out of the bench and holds one of her feet up in the air so Kyle can see above the table.
“Whoa! Those are awesome!” he exclaims.
He’ll be a good dad.The thought occurs to me out of nowhere, and I wash away the weird way it makes me feel with a hasty gulp of water.
“Piper brought me to four stores to find them,” Bailey announces.
“Can’t rush finding the right pair of shoes,” I say.
“She got some too,” Bailey tells Kyle, regaining some of the chattiness I witnessed all morning.
“Really?” I feel his eyes on me, but it takes me a few seconds to muster up the courage to meet his gaze. There’s something burning there, and it’s smoldering in his voice too. I don’t think I’m imagining the added twang to the word.
“They’re in the car,” I say stupidly. Like he’s waiting for me to whip a leg out from under the table the way Bailey did. “We ran into Julia at her aunt’s shop. She talked me into getting them.”
Under the table, Kyle’s thigh presses more firmly against mine.
“Y’all ready to order now or—oh myGod.” Our waitress reappears, quickly registering the addition to the table. “Thought Margie was messing with me,” she adds. “Wow. I’m such ahugefan,” she gushes.
“Appreciate that, ma’am.” Kyle’s voice is even and relaxed, but we’re sitting close enough that I can feel the sudden tension emanating off of him.
