“What does it look like?” She turns on the stool, and her knees brush my thigh. Her cheeks flush, and this close, the freckles across the bridge of her nose stand out. Her fingers twitch once toward mine before she pulls them into her lap.
“Want to join me for lunch?”
Her eyes hold mine, and neither of us is doing a damn thing about it.
“No thanks.”
“Wow. Tough crowd,” I say. “I would’ve paid.”
She rolls her eyes. “City boy.”
“Excuse me?”
“This is a small town, Carter. I can’t just go have lunch with you. Rumors would fly. I don’t need that right now,” she says. “You’ll be labeled as my rebound.”
I lean against the counter and smirk. “Do you think I give a fuck about what other people label me?”
She opens her mouth.
“I don’t.” I hold her gaze. “You shouldn’t either. Life is short enough.”
She stops sorting the mail, and her shoulders drop. “Who are you?”
“Carter Banks.”
“From New York,” she adds. “Who freely gives advice like a therapist and doesn’t give a fuck about anything other than having clean sheets and blankets on his bed every morning.”
I tilt my head at her. “I also love tacos.”
She chuckles. “Really?”
“I could eat them for every meal.”
Wendy goes back to sorting through the mail. “You should try Paco Tacos at the Street Eats food truck area by Sunrise Beach Park. It’s yellow, and you won’t be able to miss it. They have some of the best carnitas I’veeverhad. The pico is homemade. And sometimes, Paco even has his famous Mexican corn in a cup. Get the cotija cheese and chili powder. The teenagers order it with hot Cheetos on top.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I suddenly want corn in a cup.”
She smiles. “Enjoy. Tell him I said hi.”
An hour later, when I return from lunch, she’s chatting with someone in the kitchen. When she sees me, I hold up a bag and a Styrofoam cup with a lid on top.
“This is for you,” I offer.
She takes the bag and shakes her head. “Thank you.”
A second later, Gale comes from the kitchen, grinning. She glances at the bag and then at Wendy. “What do we have here?”
“Carter doesn’t know how to listen and brought tacos.”
I laugh. “And corn.”
Wendy’s smile breaks wide. “Stubborn man.”
“I don’t think stubborn is the word for it,” Gale says, shifting her weight to her other leg. “I know a few very nice girls who would love to go on a date with you. Food is the fastest way to a woman’s heart.”
“Is that so?” I ask.
“No, it’s not,” Wendy confirms. “But it’s very much appreciated. I was about to eat a bologna sandwich.”
