Page 17 of Choosing a Forever
“It’s been a minute since I’ve been here. What do you like?” I ask as she studies the menu board.
“I’m simple. I like the turkey and provolone with tomatoes and banana peppers. I love their twice baked potato soup, but they only have it on Wednesdays.”
I make a mental note to pick up some twice baked potato soup for her on a Wednesday sometime.
Hmmm. I’ll need to get her address so I can deliver it. I wonder if she still lives in her childhood home.
“It is pretty good. Only second to my mom’s creamy potato, but I’m biased. Have you ever tried their breakfast sandwiches or their French toast?”
She shakes her head. “I’ve only been here a handful of times in a pinch before a shift at the bar, so I’ve only had their lunch and dinner options.”
“We’ll have to come back for breakfast sometime,” I say without really thinking it through. I’d love to have a breakfast date with her, though.
I feel the overwhelming need to see her as soon as she wakes up. What does she sleep in? Does she braid her hair or let it be loose and wild across her pillows? Is she grumpy in the morning, or is she a happy riser? I bet she drinks coffee now. I wonder how she likes it. There are all sorts of fancy coffee drinks, right? I wonder if she likes her coffee fancy.
Mack doesn’t respond as the cashier waves us forward and takes her order. She pulls her wallet out to pay, but I step up next to her and push her hand down with mine.
I swear there’s a shock of electricity when our hands touch.
Maybe I’m just staticky. That happens when the weather is as dry as it is in Utah.
“We’re together. Well, nottogethertogether but I’m paying for lunch.”
Mack frowns. “Tal, I can—”
“I know you can, but I want to. Please.”She called me Tal!
That’s progress! It means she’s not as uncomfortable as I thought, right?
Mack huffs and shoves her wallet into her pocket again, stepping away so I can order. I get a chicken salad sandwich and a bag of chips, tacking on an extra drink for Mack since she didn’t order one.
The scowl on her face when I hand her the empty cup is so freaking cute, I have to bite my lip to suppress a smile. She’s like a little ticked off kitten.
I don’t think she’d appreciate it if I said that out loud.
We fill up our drinks and find a booth in the corner of the restaurant away from the people here for their Saturday lunches.
When Mack takes off her coat, I see her arms aren’t covered by long sleeves, and I get to admire the ink I’ve only seen in pictures.
On her left arm is a hodgepodge of mushrooms, moths, and multitude of different florals filling in the blanks. On her right are delicate roses and leaves. Both arms are inked from her shoulder to her wrist.
They’re stunning, just like her.
When I finally look up at her, her cheeks are pink, and she crosses and uncrosses her arms, rubbing her hands up and down them before placing them in her lap.
“They’re gorgeous,” I blurt out, startling both of us. I motion to her tattoos.
“Oh, uh, thank you. Lizzie did most of them.” The pink on her cheeks turns darker.
“Oh, that’s cool. Did they hurt?”
“Not really.” She shrugs.
“What about your piercings?” I wave a hand in the general direction of her face.
“The one that hurt the most is my conch.” She moves her hair and shows me a gold hoop through the middle part of her ear. “Well, no, that was the second most painful. My—never mind. Uh. They didn’t hurt as bad as I thought they would. Each one gets easier.”
Ireallywant to know what she was going to say her worst piercing was. She has the two in her nose and a few in her ears. I didn’t see her other ear, so maybe there’s another piercing that hurt worse?
