Page 26 of Falling for Red
“It was impressive how you carried me so far.” He literally carried me to the restaurant. It was mildly embarrassing to be on a grown man’s back walking down Main Street, but I liked it.
“Anything for you, Sparky.”
“Sparky?” I squint at him, loving the way he’s playing with my fingers.
“It’s that or firecracker.”
I snort. “It’s neither of those.”
We both laugh softly, and I glance around the busy diner, noting the Fourth of July decorations everywhere, from the plastic star centerpieces to the banners hanging on the walls.
“Oh come on, those are cute nicknames,” he says, giving my hand a squeeze.
“Keep working on it.”
“Fire starter?”
“I didn’t start the fire!” I say, overly dramatic on purpose.
“I know,” he says, chuckling under his breath, clearly enjoying this naming game.
“At least you’re not calling me Red … Everyone thinks they are so clever when they call me Red.”
Jake leans forward. “Why would they call you Red?” He grabs the end of my ponytail and gives it a playful tug.
“You’re into hair pulling, got it,” I tease. Not mad to learn this about him. My mind drifts to him shoving my face into a pillow and digging his fingers into my roots.Focus!
“So, have you decided?” he asks, leaning back.
“I’ll have the western omelet. You?”
“French toast with bacon. Another coffee?”
I nod, and he slides out of the booth, heading up to the counter. I watch him go, smiling to myself, surprised at how easy this all feels. Two hours have flown by.
When he returns, he sets the mug down and extends his other hand toward me. “Here’s a Band-Aid for your blister,” he says, offering it with a proud grin before leaning down and pressing a kiss to my temple.
Cute.I lean down to put it on my heel as he sits across from me in the booth. When I sit back up, he immediately grabs for my hand again. Staring at him while thinking he’s too perfect, I decide to revisit our earlier conversation.
“I want to circle back on something. Let’s talk about the stuff you’re not supposed to talk about on dates.”
“You’re having too much fun so you’re looking for an out?” He raises a brow, leaning back onto the booth.
“Maybe.” I bite my tongue. “But tell me about your political views.” I really hope his beliefs are not a deal breaker for me.
“If I had to be lumped into a bucket, then I guess I’m Libertarian.”
Interesting.I’m not really familiar with that party. “Why’s that?”
“We’re adults here, we don’t need to be told what to do. I think there should be less attempted parenting in politics.”
“That’s a good way of putting it … I try to stay out of politics, but I get so mad about so much that’s happening, especially with women’s rights.”
“I know. In my twenties, I honestly considered running for something. I started getting more involved with local politics and explored what the available positions are. I thought with the military, me being a firefighter, and not unattractive, I could get some traction.”
“At least you’re self-aware.”
“Enough that I have no desire to put my family and friends through that experience. I wouldn’t want anyone to get dragged through the mud because I decided to run for something.” He pauses, looking thoughtful. “When I was considering that, I decided I value my anonymity more than anything.”
