His words comefaster than usual and he seems almost…nervous? It’s kind ofadorable.
“I toldher you’d probably say you didn’t need a thank-you since she’spaying you, so I offered to buy it as her first official sale inthe new store and give it to you from both of us.”
I’mstunned speechless by his thoughtfulness. He still looks a bitapprehensive, so I pick up the box and hug it against my chest,admiring the quick grin that spreads on his face. “I love it. Thankyou—bothof you.You paid for dinner and drinks, so you shouldn’t have done thistoo.”
“Don’tworry about that,” he says, waving me off with one hand. “I getthat money stuff can be uncomfortable and awkward, but to me, thisis part of what friends do for each other.”
“Well,thanks.” Without thinking, I set the box down and close the spacebetween us to hug him. I intend for it to be quick, but Lelandwraps his arms around me, dropping his chin onto my shoulder andgiving my back a series of gentle pats. Between thoughts ofLeland’s generosity and kindness, and now his proximity, my braingoes haywire. I pull away, trying to cover any awkwardness bysaying, “Dinner’s on me when I get my first paycheck.”
“Deal.”
We settle on thecouch and Leland starts unpacking the bags of food. “I decided ontacos,” he says as he spreads everything out. “I got a bit ofeverything like I did at Cravings the other day since I didn’t knowwhat you might like.”
I stare at thearray of food instead of looking at Leland. I’m afraid of what myface is doing and how he might interpret it. My cheeks are hot andmy eyes are tingling, and I don’t want him to think I’m about tocry because that would be ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. I’mnot about to cry over all this food…except…I sort of am?
When you’re aplus-size person, you get used to people making assumptions aboutyou and judging you. I’ve built up enough mental armor over theyears that I’ve stopped noticing when people are looking at me inthe grocery store or at restaurants, but all the armor in the worlddidn’t protect my heart from comments about my weight or my eatinghabits from my own husband or from some of the people I’vedated.
Back in highschool, when Leland first brought a plate of cookies to me in thecafeteria, I thought he was baiting me. My tender, bruised teenageheart and ego were braced to become the butt of a joke. It didn’ttake me long to see how wrong I was about his intentions. Leland isclearly someone who likes to take care of others, and feedingpeople might just be one of his love languages.
“Youokay?” Leland’s hand lands softly on my forearm, snapping me out ofmy thoughts.
“I’mgreat. This all looks and smells amazing. You’re incredible forgetting a variety.”
“Imean, it’s notpurelyselfless.” His eyes crinkle as he grins and reaches for aplate. “I couldn’t decide what I wanted, so I basically got halfthe things on their menu.”
I laugh and followhis lead, loading up my plate with a breaded fish and mango slawtaco, a cheesy beef taco, a chicken taco, and some Caesar salad. Imanage to squeeze a bit of pico de gallo, guacamole, and sour creamaround the edges of the plate. Leland eyes my plate with a grin,picking up one of his tacos and saluting me with it before taking abite.
He makes a soundof appreciation that has my lips twitching around my first bite offish taco. His eyes slip closed, then pop open again as he makes adifferent sound. “Almost forgot the beer! I popped into the bigrefrigerated room in the liquor store ’cause there’s nothing lessappealing than warm beer. I got a mixed six pack.”
I choose aGuinness Hop House 13 while Leland selects a beer from a localbrewery I’ve heard Wesley talk about. We both crack open our cansand tap them together.
“Cheers,” I say.
“Sláinte,” Leland replies, his mouthtilting into a lopsided grin at my surprised look. “You’ve been toIreland, right?”
“When Itraveled right after high school, yeah. I was meeting up withpeople I’d originally met in a hostel in Rome, and planned to juststay for a week. I loved it so much, I ended up staying for almostthree months.”
Leland nods as heputs a big spoonful of guacamole on a chicken taco. “I loved itthere too. Felicity did a huge family tree project in high schooland discovered a bunch of ancestors on our mom’s side were fromIreland. My first time there was on a family trip, and I’ve been afew times since. There’s just something about thatcountry.”
I make a sound ofagreement around a mouthful of food. “The girls and I have oftentalked about taking a trip there together. They lived vicariouslythrough my gap year adventures, and they were particularly takenwith my stories of Ireland. When I came back home, we all gotthese.”
I pull my rightarm free from my cardigan to show Leland the tattoo near the bendin my elbow. “Shamrocks are more common symbols of Ireland thanfour-leaf clovers, but since there are four of us…”
Leland grips myarm and leans in to inspect my tattoo. He’s so close, I can feelhis warm breath on the sensitive skin of my inner arm. I suck in abreath and hold it when he slides the pad of his thumb over thetattoo. “You each have the same thing?”
“Yep.All through our teens, we talked about getting matching tattoos,but could never agree on what we wanted. When I told them four-leafclovers symbolize faith, love, hope, and good fortune, we knew thatwas it, and we decided to add our initials inside theleaves.”
“Beautiful.” He releases my arm and I arrange my sweater backin place. We eat in silence for a few minutes before he asks, “Doyou have any others? Tattoos, I mean.”
I pull up my leftsleeve to show him the small tattoo on the inside of my wrist: ashooting star with a rainbow tail. “Wesley’s nickname for me isLittle Star, so I got this in his honor. I also have a phoenix inflight on my leg. I got it right after my divorce was finalized.” Ifocus on the food in front of me, not wanting to see if Leland’sexpression changes. “Do you have any?”
“Nonefor me, no. I actually expected you to have more. You’reso…colorful.” He wipes his hand on a napkin and reaches out toplayfully tug one of the faded turquoise streaks in myhair.
When he releasesmy hair, I shift so I’m tucked into the corner of the couch, facinghim, and using my lap to balance my food instead of the coffeetable. “Until a few months ago, I felt like all the color had beenleached out of me. But I don’t want to get too deep over tacos andbeer.”
Leland movesaround until he’s mirroring my pose on the opposite end of thecouch. “I’m all ears. Let’s get deep over tacos and beer. And no, Ididn’t mean for that to rhyme, it was just an addedbonus.”
I cover my mouthas I laugh around a mouthful of food. Leland chuckles, toasting meonce more with his can of beer before taking a swig.
