Page 15 of Blueberry Cake
“When did you feel like you were at a point you were...” Queenie trailed off, searching for words. “Comfortable? Is that the right word?”
“Luka’s last year of middle school.”Shit, why did he keep bringing up Luka? “Why do you ask?”
Queenie shrugged. “Curiosity. I mean, doesn’t everyone want a downtown condo and drive a big fancy car?”
“Does your job fulfil you?”
“It does.”
“Are your bills paid?”
“They are.”
“Then you’re in a good place, Queenie.”
Their eyes briefly met before he returned his attention to the road. “I know I am,” she said. “I mean, I’ve never been in a bad place. Tough ones, but probably nothing too serious.” Then she sighed, rather annoyed. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Sounding like a jealous teenager?”
He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, putting the car in park and pinning Queenie with a serious look. “We all have a jealous trait, that’s natural.” He lightened his tone. “I’m not upset with you, but I might drive a differentcar next time.”
“Oh don’t! This is rather comfy.”
They ordered their food, and it wasn’t long before Queenie secured the bag in her lap. She waited until they were parked outside of the zoo before she handed him his breakfast, freezing with her burrito halfway to her mouth.
“Youdoallow food in here, right?”
“Most of my meals are on the go unless it’s a business meeting. I know a great guy who works magic with all kinds of spills.” Boyd focused on his meal, bashfully adding, “Especially coffee and BBQ sauce.”
“Oh, good. I don’t want to be the first one to ruin these seats.”
He blamed the heat in his cheeks on the hot sauce. Why did that sound so fucking dirty? “You won’t.”
A few moments later, Queenie’s burrito had disappeared into thin air. “This was really good.”
“Clearly. I should’ve bought more.”
“Now we know for next time.”
“I’ll remember that for our future breakfast dates.”
Queenie patiently waited for him to finish his own food before reaching for the door.
“Don’t.”
Queenie whipped her head around, fingers on the handle. “What?”
“Don’t move.” He rushed out of the truck, walked around the hood, and opened her door. Silently, he offered her a hand.
“Such a gentleman.”
“This is a date after all.” He closed the front door, then retrieved her backpack for her.
“So, if this wasn’t a date you wouldn’t hold my door andmake me feel super special?”
“I always hold the door for a woman, but I don’t help all of them in and out of the car. Then again, I don’t have many female friends.”
