I’m a walking live wire as we slide into the booth and I pretend I’m reading the menu while I’m actually trying not to watch as Sam sets down food for the booth behind Dec.
“Being creepy,” he says in a sing-song way through his teeth.
“Your mouth barely moved. Who’s creepy?”
I don’t give him the satisfaction of waiting for his response. Instead, I study my menu like I’ve got a life-altering test in five minutes and the only way I’ll pass it is if I can accurately list the toppings for every sandwich in the handhelds section.
“Hello, gentlemen. Can I get you something to drink?”
My heart flips at her voice, and any plan I had to maintain calm and actually order food flies out the window.
Dec’s saying hello, thanking her for the water she set in front of each of us, and I can’t even manage to respond to her question.
“Can we talk? Do you have a minute?”
Her lips press together but she nods. “Can I get your orders so Morgy can start working on them, and then we can step out for a minute?”
“Absolutely. That’s perfect.”
Dec and I both order, she takes the details, and while she’s delivering them to the kitchen, Dec gives me a quick pat on the shoulder.
“You’ve got this. Be honest. Go easy. Take a deep breath.”
I do as he says, willing my nervous system to chill out as I step back into the cool air. A minute later, Sam joins me on the sidewalk. She has a sweater pulled over her uniform and her arms are tucked in close.
She’s so impossibly beautiful, and yet again, I am shrouded in the awareness that she overwhelms me. I don’t know how to keep my mind straight when she’s close, but I remember what I need to say. I want to hold her hand or maybe offer a hug first, but I’m not certain that’s welcome, and from here on out, I won’t do anything I’m not crystal-clear on.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Sam
Now that I’m witnessing it, I’m certain I’ve never seen Grant Ryan nervous.
Right now, he’s so antsy, he’s almost twitching with energy.
“What did you want to talk about?” I don’t have long, and I have some things I need to say, too.
“I apologize for kissing you last night. I shouldn’t have done it.”
He looks pained by the words, though I’m not sure he looks as bad as I feel. It’s not a huge surprise, but for some reason, hearing it out loud makes me sad.
“Why shouldn’t you have kissed me?” Even though I have my own reasons for why it wasn’t a good idea, I need to know his.
He swallows hard and glances at the mountains. They really are stunningtoday.
“Timing was off. I shouldn’t have done it last night. I know it upset you, and I’m deeply sorry for that.” He huffs, visibly frustrated with himself if the frown pulling at his already severe mouth is anything to go by.
“It’s okay.” I don’t wait to absolve him. I certainly don’t want him to feel like he hurt me or pushed me, and I’ve worried my tears made him think exactly that.
“I—thank you.” He paces away, like the restless energy I can almost feel rolling off him drives him to move, then comes right back but this time an inch closer. “But listen, I need to make something clear.”
I nod, unsure what else to do.
“I’m not sorry I kissed you. I’m sorry I did it at the wrong time. I’m sorry it upset you, and I’m definitely sorry if I misread that you wanted it, too, but?—”
“I did.”
Something about his posture melts a little. He’s still standing tall, towering over me with broad shoulders and his dark green uniform shirt, his cowboy hat in his hand instead of shading his eyes.
