“Ah…” he sang, dragging the word into three syllables. “I see. Hmm, I’ll be thinking of a good one then.”
She liked how easily he agreed to play along. To finish the rest of her sandwich order, Amy placed green check marks in the boxes beside lettuce, pickles, banana peppers, and spicy mustard.
“You ready to switch boards?”
With his eyes still pasted on the chalkboard, Jace gave her a nod. “Yep. I think so.”
They exchanged boards, and Amy had to smile at all of the purple checkmarks. In fact, every topping had a check by it. Oh, except the onions. There was a smudge in that box, as if he’d marked it then changed his mind and rubbed it out.
She glanced up to see that he was already writing on hers. Only he’d made it so she couldn’t see what he wrote by lifting the board high in front of his face.
Hmm.She pinched the dwindling piece of chalk and brought it to the blank line on top. It wasn’t like the guy embarrassed easily, or maybe at all, but she may as well try. She scratched in two short words and came to a stand.
“Okay, we can’t see what the other one wrote yet. So just set it in the ordering box here face down.” She demonstrated, and Jace followed, that sexy smirk at his lips. They sat at a couple of barstools and made small talk while waiting for their food. How long her parents had owned the shop. What his parents were up to.
If weeknights at Maddie’s had a dinner rush, they’d missed it. Or at least most patrons were ordering out instead of in. Beside the older couple hidden in the corner booth, a large family prepared to leave by stuffing leftovers in cartons and tucking in chairs.
“So they just call out our names when they’re ready?” Jace asked.
Amy considered what she’d written on his and laughed. “Yep.”
“Hot Pants, your custom-made sub is ready,” a deep, theatrical voice sounded from the speaker. “Hot Pants, come get your food.” At least Paul, the guy calling out orders, had a sense of humor.
“That’s you,” she said to Jace.
He jabbed a thumb into his chest. “Me?” A triumphant grin spread over his face as he came to a stand. He puffed his shoulders high, made fists at his sides, and strutted toward the counter like a peacock on full display.
Amy spun to stare at him shamelessly. The family lingered by the exit, chuckling as they watched him approach the pickup counter.
“I’m Hot Pants,” Jace announced proudly.
A giggle snuck out her throat as the grinning employee—a new woman with neck tattoos and cheek piercings— handed over the food. “You have a good night,” she said. “Hot Pants.”
“You do the same, little lady,” Jace boomed. He set his gaze on Amy as he strode back toward her. One that seemed to say,your turn.
“Granny Mae, your custom-made sub is ready.” Just when Amy didn’t think Jace could look any prouder of himself, he boasted an even wider grin as the announcer finished his call. “Granny Mae, come get your food.”
“I’m guessing that’s me?” she asked as Jace neared.
He shot her a wink and leaned in to speak something in her ear. “If I’d have known my name was Hot Pants I would’ve named you Sugar Lips instead.” He kissed her cheek and took a seat at the barstool.
Amy glanced over at the elderly couple, the pair fussing over ingredients in the man’s sub; perhaps he’d snuck in a few toppings he’d been told to avoid. With just two steps Amy was out of their eye-line, which was for the best; she wouldn’t want to offend them.
After curling her lips around her teeth, Amy snatched her purse off the table and, disregarding the strap, tucked it beneath her armpit. She bent forward next, shoulders hunching over her chest. Then, with slow, shuffling steps, her feet never quite lifting off the ground, Amy scooted her way to the counter. She squared a squinty-eyed look at the woman behind the bar. “I’m Granny Mae,” she squeaked in a quivering voice.
The tattooed woman stifled a grin as her nostrils flared. “Alrighty. Here’s your sub. Enjoy. Ma’am.”
“Thanks, missy. I’ll have to put my teeth back in for this one.” Amy took hold of the basket and shuffled her way back toward their spot by the window.
Jace stood and gave her a round of slow, appreciative claps. “That was sexy.”
Amy straightened up and grinned. She loved how comfortable she felt around Jace. After spending the last couple of days with him, the guy already felt like a trusted friend: Safe, hilarious, and a whole lot of fun.
“These are some pretty big subs,” Jace said, lifting the top layer of his herb and cheddar topped roll. “This is going to take both hands.” He looked up at her. “Are your hands even big enough to take hold of this thing properly?”
Amy’s jaw dropped. “First I’m Granny Mae and now I’m Small Hands?”
He grinned. “Granniesdohave small hands. Want me to go get you a knife and we can cut yours in half?”
Amy gave him the slow shake of her head. He was full of it today. “Nope.” She reached down, grabbed the overstuffed sub, and took a giant bite. A few random toppings plopped into her paper basket, but she’d managed to keep the thing from falling apart; she was a regular here. Well, she normally called ahead and drove through the pickup lane, but Amy was no novice.
She straightened her shoulders proudly and dabbed her mouth with a napkin, enjoying the delicious flavor of pepperoni mixed with banana peppers, accented by the rich wheat bread.
“Dang,” Jace said with the shake of his head. “I knew I should have called you Sugar Lips.”
