Holly picks up her Frosty and continues to eat it as we watch the sun finish its descent. “You know, when Alex first said his new best friend was a farm boy, I didn’t picture you.”
I chuckle. “You didn’t picture my model-like figure in Wranglers? Or the sawdust in my hair that is every girl’s kryptonite? Wow, I’m surprised, Holly. How could you not picture all six feet of muscley hotness that is myself?”
She throws her head back, her hair falling over my arm, the silky tresses a welcome feeling as she laughs. She’s laughing so hard that the spoonful of Frosty that was on the way to her mouth catapults and lands on her pants.
I drop my arm and move to get up, knowing I have napkins in the car, but she reaches out, her hand stalling me.
She arches an eyebrow and a playful smirk crosses her lips. “Oh, are you trying to run away from me? Can’t handle a woman who drops Frosty onto her pants?”
“I was going to go get napkins.” I laugh and she shakes her head.
“No need.”
She smirks and reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small orange square. She rips it open and pulls out a wipe. She meticulously cleans the chocolate off her pants until all that remains is a damp spot on the fabric, leaving no chocolate stain.
I look her over. “What type of magic is this?”
She shrugs. “Tide to-go wipes. I take them with me everywhere I go because I have this unfortunate habit of spilling on myself. It was the bane of my mother’s existence that I didn’t have better table manners.”
“You have fantastic table manners when you eat at an actual table.” I nudge her shoulder and she laughs as she nudges me right back.
“I only have manners when in company that requires me to have them. The rest of the time, I don’t care. My dry cleaning bill is quite low thanks tothese handy dandy wipes that have saved me during many a solo chocolate or ice cream binge. Or when I’m comfortable around someone and forget the rigidity of the elite.”
I wrap my arm around her and pull her into my side again. She fits perfectly, and I could stay here forever. We watch as the ocean darkens, the blues and purples in the sky fading away. “I’m glad you feel comfortable around me, Holly.”
“I didn’t say that,” she teasingly whispers.
“You didn’t have to,” I mumble into her hair, memorizing the feeling of her in my arms here on the beach.
I can feel her smile as she leans her head on my chest. “You’re not what I expected, farm boy, but I’ll keep you around.”
“As you wish.” I place a kiss on the crown of her head.
I couldn’t have asked for a better first official date with my wife.
Chapter 25
Sand Away Messes
Holly
Ilock my computer screen and push away from my desk. My chair rolls across the floor toward the door. When it stops I hop out of my seat and stretch my muscles, which protest my slouched form over the past three hours. I sit ergonomically correct in public, but nobody needs to know I have poor posture at home. It’s another minor rebellion against my upbringing, especially against my mother and her relentless nagging to sit up straight.
The small act of defiance has unfortunately stuck, and my chiropractor can thank my parents for his frequent paychecks.
I open the door but hesitate before walking into the hallway. I’ve become comfortable walking the few steps down the hallway from my office to the garage. But the courage to walk those twenty steps seems insurmountable to gather today.
I blame it on our date last night.
After a simple hug in the hallway I went to bed and dreamed about pupusas. I didn’t know I could smell things in dreams. But last night I swear I could smell the fried cheese and seasoned meat wafting from the dreamy plate of food in front of me.
Then my husband took me to get a chocolate Frosty. He knows my weakness. The chocolatey goodness reminded me of the night my feelings changed, the night we escaped the movie premier and Knotweed, as Mateo calls he-who-shall-not-be-named.
Finally, the handsome man had the audacity to want to talk about feelings. Not just opinions on food and favorite colors, but deep emotions. The kind you only share with people you really care about.
Alex doesn’t know how hard it is not to fall for his best friend, and I’m cursing the day I told him I wouldn’t fall for Mateo.
Because what I feel is definitely going to mess things up between him and his bestie after the divorce—the divorce I’m coming to realize I don’t want. But Mateo deserves to marry a woman he loves. Someone who deserves to be pampered and treated to delicious pupusa dates.
