Page 67 of The Best Parts of Him
Dabbs’ laugh was a quiet rumble, the way it got when he was sleepy. “No. I thought I’d send you some since you liked it so much. Figured you didn’t order any for yourself when you ordered mine.”
“I didn’t.”
He’d been focused on replacing the loaves he’d devoured in less than a week and hadn’t thought about ordering a few for himself.
“Thank you,” he said. “This’ll last me . . . ” If it had taken him five days to go through three loaves, ten would last about . . . “A little over two weeks?”
“You’re welcome.”
On Dabbs’ end, one of the dogs barked, and Dabbs shushed him. “It’s too late to be barking at nothing, Castle. Settle down.”
“Sorry about your team’s loss tonight.”
“Thanks. You had a good game though.”
Grinning at nothing, Ryland sat at the island. “You saw?”
“I just finished watching the highlights. Nice goal in the third.”
His grin faded, and he picked at the countertop. “One of the reporters asked me about you after the game.”
“I saw that too. You handled it well.”
“Did I? I was feeling snappish, so I don’t remember what I said.”
“Reporters asked me about you after our game too. I told them it was new and to respect our privacy.”
“That’s probably more eloquent than what I said.”
Dabbs chuckled, the sound wrapping itself around Ryland’s chest. “I’ve got an early day tomorrow, so I’ve got to go. Our teams play each other in a few weeks, right?”
“The week before Thanksgiving.”
“So I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah,” Ryland said, anticipation already tingling through him. “Yeah, you will.”
chapter eighteen
Ryland:
What the actual fuck is paczki?
Dabbs:
A jelly-filled Polish donut.
Ryland:
You made that word up.
Dabbs:
Nope. Check the Scrabble dictionary.
Ryland:
How do you even know that word?
