“Tucker doesn’t eat Cobb salad.” Once again, Dunn addressed this comment to his menu, but Kelsey hesitated.
“Sure he does,” Carter said. “We’ve split one a million times. He loves it. Don’t you?”
“Well, I… that is… I…”
“Doc Wright?” Kelsey said.
“Tucker no longer consumes pork products for moral reasons, and he hates blue cheese,” Dunn gritted out through clenched teeth.
“No, he doesn’t.” Carter gave me a mystified look. “Do you, Tuck?”
“Dunn, honey, I’m thinking I want steak and tater tots,” Jenn said with a desperate sort of brightness. “What do you think? Steak and tots? You and me could split an order and…”
I inhaled sharply. Buying your date tater tots was a well-known Lickin’ Thicket code for being in a serious relationship. There was no way on God’s blue earth I could sit here and watch them eat shredded potatoes together. Death would be preferable.
“Dunn doesn’t eat processed potato pieces,” I lied. “Tater tots go against his life philosophy.”
Jenn pursed her lips. “Doc Wright, I think you might be deluding yourself about Dunn’s potato preferences.”
“Uh, no. I am Dunn’s best best friend. I know every spud-based desire of his heart. If anyone at this table is deluded—”
“Erm, so it’s looking like maybe no bacon,” Carter cut in. He smiled at Kelsey, who was still waiting with her pen poised above her notepad. “Tucker, blue cheese, yes or no?”
“What? Yeah, fine.” I was too engaged in my tater tot stare-down with Jenn to pay him much mind.
Dunn gasped and pushed his chair back with a squeal. “I can’t sit here anymore. I need air.”
“But, Dunn, we haven’t ordered!” Jenn made a grab for his arm. “Dunn?”
“It might be his asthma,” I lied. I pushed my chair back too. “I’ll go.”
“Nonsense. He and I are dating. I’ll—” Jenn began.
“Nah, Tuck’s a medical professional,” Carter reminded her, dimples winking. “Let him do his thing, Jenn. Meanwhile, you can tell me more about yourself.”
I was pretty sure I was going to owe Carter my firstborn child by the end of this date-that-wasn’t-a-date, but I didn’t care. As I pushed out the main door into the cool night air of the parking lot, all I could think about was Dunn Johnson.
I spotted him off to one side of the parking lot, pacing under the brightly lit Steak ‘n Bait sign that proudly declared, “2,542 YESSES AND COUNTING.” He looked supremely pissed off, clomping around in circles and muttering under his breath, which was great because I was too.
He also looked tall and broad and gorgeous, wearing his one pair of “good” jeans and that sweater I’d searched high and low for last year, and that made me even more pissed off.
“Take off that sweater,” I demanded, stalking toward him.
“What?” Dunn stopped his pacing and whirled to face me.
“I said, you take off that sweater I bought you.” I poked him, right in the center of his big, broad, cashmere-covered chest. “You know how hard I looked for a sweater that was the same green as your eyes? Hours, Dunn Johnson. You don’t get to date Jenn Shipley while you’re wearing my sweater.”
“You’re bein’ ridiculous,” Dunn scoffed.
“No, you are!” I set my hands on my hips. “You don’t even like her. Name one thing you have in common.”
Dunn’s already scowly face scowled harder. “We…” He opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a second.
“Yeah?” I made a gimme motion with my hand. “You what?”
“…are…”
“Uh-huh. Good start. Keep going. Lay it on me. I’m ready for it,” I taunted.
He swallowed hard. “…both appalled that you didn’t tell me the truth about your date tonight being a date. After all I’ve done for you, Tuck!”
“Done for me? For me? You haven’t done anything for me! You only tried to match me up so you could feel free to date Jenn!” Oh. Wow. Those were a lot of words I was saying, huh? I wasn’t even sure where they came from—Dunn may have had a small point about the sangria—but they felt true, so I kept going. “And Jenn is not appalled. She’s in there trying to climb Carter like a tree.” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder.
“Ew. She is not.” Dunn wrinkled his nose. “Not much of him to climb, anyway. He’s all white teeth and soft fingers.” He made jazz hands in the glow of the sign. “I hope you know, those fingers couldn’t tie a clinch knot on a sunny day with no breeze.”
“I know I’m about to shock you right now, Dunn? But fishing’s not everything! Carter has other qualities.”
“Like what? That man touches people’s hearts.” He paused. “And not like a Hallmark card.”
“He doesn’t touch hearts. He’s not a surgeon. And besides, you rectally probe your heifers to see if they’re knocked up.” I smoothed a hand up my arm from my wrist to my elbow. “Let’s not play that game.”