Page 47 of Ugly Duckling
“Speaking of Lottie,” I said as I walked to my truck and opened up the back passenger door.
She looked up from where she was watching The Lorax from my iPad resting on the middle console and said, “Door!”
I chuckled as I closed the door, rounding the hood at the same time that I cracked my fingers.
“What was that?” Sutton asked.
I felt her body close in before she’d said a word, I was that aware of her.
“It’s cold, and she doesn’t like the cold,” I explained as I turned around and took her in.
Today she was in a pair of black leggings that showed off her ankles, tennis shoes that were bright orange and very eye-catching, and a sweatshirt that was two sizes too big.
One that looked a whole lot like the one I’d given her in high school during a soccer tournament.
“Is that mine?” I wondered.
It was the flush on her face that had my suspicions confirmed. “I…no…I didn’t think I’d see you this morning. It’s one of my favorites because it’s so soft.”
I found myself smiling despite my shitty morning.
“It’s fine. It probably won’t fit anymore anyway,” I teased.
Her face stayed a tomato red.
“Where do you want to go eat?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
I allowed it, but I didn’t forget.
“Hate to break it to you, but Lottie only eats two places, so we don’t really have a lot of options. We can go to Chick-fil-A or El Sombrero. She eats chicken nuggets, macaroni, white queso, and tortillas. Everything else is iffy at best.”
“She’s that picky?” Sutton asked.
“You have no idea,” I grumbled. “I’ve tried everything that I can to get her to eat healthier, but I swear, the harder I try, the worse she gets. She used to be much better at this eating thing, but she’s become more assertive about what she likes best.”
“I’ll try to help you with that,” she offered.
“You and every other person in our lives,” I mumbled. “Nothing is working.”
She tossed her keys into the air, then caught them again. “I’m down for either one of those.”
“Follow me,” I suggested.
I waited for her to get to her car—and checked out her perfect ass as she did—before I got into my work truck and headed for the closest Chick-fil-A.
When we got there, I waited with Lottie beside the front door until Sutton was at my side.
Sutton waved at Lottie, who loudly yelled, “Hi!”
Sutton grinned. “Hi. How are you?”
“Great!” she chirped. “I love ick-fil-a!”
“Me too,” Sutton declared. “They have a really yummy salad here that I really love.”
Lottie tilted her head before she said, “Ewww.”
I snorted and caught the door for Sutton, who walked in front of me into the restaurant.
