Page 11 of Country Charm

“I don’t have any siblings. It was just my dad and me. He was also an easy man to admire. Happy, funny, smart, sweet; I don’t think I can think of a bad word to say about him.” I get a warm feeling thinking about my dad. Even though he’s gone I can feel his eternal love and support.

“Was?” He tilts his head.

“Yeah, he passed when I was twenty-six. He went down smiling and telling me how everything he had achieved in his life left him feeling wholesome and like he wasn’t robbed.”

Hunter is intently listening, and I don’t feel like I’m babbling or saying too much. I just feel comfortable.

We drink slowly through our next round. Our conversation is moving so fluidly, I’m not sure how much time has passed. It feels like only a second, but the conversation is enough to span weeks.

Chapter Eight

Hunter

“What can I do for you two?” the server asks as she comes around our table.

“Can I get another PBR and the menu?” I ask, hoping this place has something to eat. I skipped dinner for the drive out here and I could eat a horse.

“Want to grab food somewhere else?” Cassidy pipes up. She has a look in her eyes, I can’t quite read it.

Her friend did do a pretty good job at personifying her in our messages, but I’m happier with the real Cassidy in person. I think her friend Lynn was trying to keep things minimal, so they didn’t get messy. She would answer my questions quickly but with a little of that… “Sassidy” flare. Tonight, hearing Cassidy be more part of a conversation herself is better than what I had imagined on my own.

I can tell right away she admires her dad, and I like a girl who can value family. She hasn’t mentioned her mom though. Maybe we just haven’t touched base on moms. She said it was just her and her dad, so did her mom pass too? I want to know, but I don’t want to push.

“You know a good spot?”

“Yeah, we can just close our tab here.” She turns to the server, “Can we close Walker?”

“Sure thing.” The little thing sprints off to grab Cassidy’s card and our check.

“Mind if I pay for dinner?” I say in an attempt to redeem myself.

“Your beer was like eight bucks. I plan on eating more than eight dollars’ worth of food. Is there anything you’re in the mood for, like a certain type of cuisine?”

Cuisine?!Oh jeez, this girl probably likes fancy food. I am not a fancy food guy, nor am I dressed for it.

“Something simple?” I try to say without coming off rude, or cheap.

“Well duh, but like burgers, hot dogs, tacos, pizza?” She beams. Cassidy does not look like the kind of girl who indulges in fast food too often. She’s curvy but has a small waist that screams chicken and salads to me.

“Burgers,” I state because I want to compare them to my homemade ones. She grins and rubs her palms together.

“I know a great spot!”

The server comes back, and we close out. Cassidy doesn’t need to run to the bathroom or fix herself up. She just hops off the stool and starts making her way to the door. She confidently looks over her shoulder to make sure I’m following.

I like that look.I pocket the thought. She has a gleam in her eye, and the light keeps catching the glitter in her hair.

Once we make it to the sidewalk, she waits for me to come up to her side.

“I think Lynn picked this bar because I come to it the most. Come on, we’re heading this way.” She starts walking ahead but holds her right hand out, fingers extendedto me.

Am I supposed to grab it?City girls are so different from girls in my town. I take a chance and slide my hand into hers. She doesn’t jump or seem startled; she just wraps her fingers in mine and pulls me along with her. Her hand is small, but not fragile. I feel like it’s almost childlike, and yet it’s strong and stable. Her skin is soft and silky. I like it. I like it against mine.

I look at her face and she’s keeping her eyes forward as she weaves us through the crowd. We walk for a block and a half before she halts in front of a food truck. The line is long, but she doesn’t seem annoyed by that fact.

“Are you a serial killer?” she asks out of the blue. She’s not quiet about it either, and the couple in front of us turn to look at me.

I debate about dropping her hand now that she’s not leading the way, but she starts rubbing her thumb along my finger. It seems sweet and familiar.

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