When the food arrived, the amount on her plate could have served a family of four.There were several huge chunks of fresh white bread with a deliciously crisp, sweet cinnamon crust.The apples had been baked with the French toast, and broke up as she cut through them with her fork.Syrup dripped off the stack.
“Oh my God,” she groaned, closing her eyes.“This issogood.”
“Told you.”
“I’m never going to be able to eat all this.It’s like two days of food on one plate.”
Cujo couldn’t respond.He looked like Alvin or one of the other chipmunks, his cheeks stuffed with pancakes.
Twenty minutes later, Drea pushed her half-full plate away and picked up her coffee mug with both hands, leaning back in the booth.
“I am so not going to need to eat again today.”
Cujo took what was left of her French toast.
“Seriously?”
“Shortcake, it takes some serious energy reserves to keep you happy.This engine doesn’t rev unless it has premium fuel in it,” he said with a wink.
Once full, they finished off with a leisurely coffee before they headed back to the cottage.
“I’m gonna take a nap.Someone kept me up late last night.”Drea sighed.The motion of the truck lulled her toward sleep.
Cujo’s hand glided up her thigh.“Only because you lying there naked keptmeup.”Cujo laughed as she slapped his hand away.
A nondescript silver sedan pulled around them.It had one of those annoying bumper stickers, the ones that gloated about having a kid at Harvard.
“What a dick—” Cujo said.
“Holy shit.That’s Marty Jacobs,” Drea said at the same time.
Cujo flashed a look at the car.“The governor?Was he alone?”
“Yeah.”Drea looked behind them.“There are no other cars with him.I have no clue if the governor gets a security detail.Do you?”
“No idea, but my guess would be yes,” Cujo answered.
“So what’s he doing in the middle of nowhere, weeks ahead of the election?”
“The obvious answer would be that the whole of Florida votes.Not just the big cities.He probably has voters to schmooze and babies to kiss… but with everything else that’s going on, I honestly don’t know.”
“Stay behind him, Cujo.Let’s see where he goes.”
“Really?”he asked, as he put his foot down anyway.“I wanted to get back to the cottage and see if your idea of a nap and mine are the same.”
“Follow the governor and I’ll make sure they are,” Drea replied, taking out her phone and snapping a picture.
“Does your idea of a nap have you on all fours while I—”
“Focus.”She laughed, rubbing her hand over the bulge in his jeans.She leaned across and whispered in his ear.“If you keep up with him, you can take me any way you want.”
“Fuck.”Cujo squirmed in his seat.“Let’s hope he stops soon before my dick explodes.”
They trailed him for another mile until he pulled into the lot of an old information center.Cujo followed, parking in a sheltered area where they could still see the governor’s car.
“Slump down in your seat,” Drea said.
Why?”
