Page 40 of Make Me Whole
Chapter Twenty
HAILEY
My cheeks achedfrom smiling too much, but I simply couldn't help it. During the last three hours, I'd witnessed yet another side to Bradley. And it was turning my insides to mush.
The way he interacted with the customers—especially the little old ladies—had me swooning like an idiot. It didn't matter how many people were waiting in line, he never rushed the person in front of him. And it never looked as if he was making conversation merely for the sake of it. He seemed genuinely interested in what each person had to say. Patiently listening while the grandmas cooed over their grandchildren and showed him picture after picture.
The rough-around-the-edges Bradley I'd met a few weeks ago was dangerous. This man I was seeing more of, he was downright deadly. The wild way in which my heart was jackhammering against my ribs was a testament to that.
Doing my best to ignore the kaleidoscope of butterflies in my tummy, I helped him bag the jams we'd just sold before we watched the customer stroll off to the next stall. Heaving out a breath, Bradley reached under the table and pulled two bottled waters from the cooler. After handing me one, he collapsed onto one of the camping chairs.
I turned and leaned back against the table in time to see him swallow down almost half of the water. My gaze was fixed on his Adam's apple greedily working down each swallow.
Not for the first time, I wondered what his skin would feel like against my lips. Would it be rugged and prickly—just like him? My attention shifted to the sinful lips latched on to the bottle. Would his kisses be rough and demanding or sweet and gentle?
"See anything you like?"
Lightning-fast my gaze snapped to his. The heat simmering in those eyes told me he knew exactly what I'd been thinking about. I could feel the blush stain my cheeks. Still, I croaked out, "What?"
Slowly, he pushed his frame forward and screwed the cap back on to the bottle. Resting his elbows above his knees, he let his arms dangle between his spread legs. His mouth curved into a crooked grin. "When you went for a walk earlier…Did you see anything you like?"
"Right."Why is it so warm suddenly?I brought my own bottle to my mouth and took a generous sip hoping it would ease the dryness in my throat. When I was done, I started fidgeting with the bottle; mindlessly picking at the label. "I did actually," I finally answered his question.
"Yeah?"
"There's a stall not far from this one that has the most beautiful glass sculptures."
He nodded as if he knew exactly which one I was referring to. "Probably Brett's stall. He only comes a couple of times a year because the drive from Willow Creek is over twenty hours, but his sculptures are pretty popular."
"I can see why." Setting the bottle on the table, I tucked my folded arms in front of me. "They're delicate but yet so detailed."
He hummed in agreement and the sound of it rolled over my skin. I swear I felt hot all over. Even more so when Bradley studied me for a long, intense minute before his eyes flitted across the table behind me. "What do you say we pack up and grab lunch?" Pushing to his feet, his arms reached for the sky and his back arched in a stretch.
Of course, this would have his t-shirt riding up slightly; revealing just a sliver of tanned skin and hard muscle. As casually as I could, I retrieved my discarded water and unscrewed the cap before pouring it down my throat when all I really wanted to do was tip it over my head to cool the hell off.
With a groan, he dropped his arms to his sides and rolled his neck. "There's this great farm-to-table restaurant on the premises I think you'd love."
I knew spending more time with this man was dangerous. So very dangerous. And yet, I couldn't stop the words from coming. "Lunch sounds great."
The grin he aimed my way, had my heart flatlining before it started racing at an alarming speed. And it showed no sign of stopping as we silently packed up and hauled everything back to the truck. Not even when we walked into the rustic restaurant and especially not when we were seated opposite each other at a small table.
The kind designed for couples to share intimate meals. The kind where you didn't even have to extend your arm in order to hold your lover's hand.
The waitress handed us the menu and after promising to be back soon to take our order, she trotted off. I tried to focus on the words on the paper in my hands, but with Bradley so close, my concentration was lacking.
He shifted in his seat and straightened his long legs; the action causing his denim-clad leg to scrape along the bare skin of mine. Along with my sanity, he was stealing the air from my lungs. "What are you going to have?"
Squinting, I tried, and failed, to will the scribbled letters to form full sentences in my brain. It seemed my mind was too occupied with all things Bradley to perform a simple task like reading. With a calmness I didn't feel, I set the menu on the table and said, "I don't know…everything looks good." Then I made the mistake of looking at him.
Leaned back in his seat, arms folded in front of his thick chest, his gaze was trained on me. He was looking at me in the same way he'd done in the truck earlier; like I was a puzzle he needed to figure out.
My shoulders rose and fell in a quick shrug. "You're the expert. What do you suggest I try?"
Bradley cocked his head to the side. "Depends…If you're a salty girl, I'd go for the omelet. But if you're sweet," he paused for a beat—that sexy, crooked grin of his on display again—before he continued, "I suggest their waffles."
"Those are breakfast foods," I pointed out. "Should I remind you that we're having lunch?"
He unfolded his arms and after leaning forward—way forward—he planted his elbows on the smooth surface of the table. "Who says you can't have breakfast for lunch?" His eyes roamed over my face, searching for something only he knew. "So, which are you, Hailey? Salty or sweet?"
