Crazy (The Gibson Boys 4)

He laughs. “Not tonight. I need time to consider the menu. Besides, we’re going to Crave tonight, and I don’t want to have to rush dinner. Perfection takes time.” He winks.

I try to play off his charm. It would be really easy to dance a little jig, but I don’t. Because I’m an adult. Ish.

“We are going to Crank?” I ask. “Together? I mean, that’s great, but I just didn’t expect you to go with me.”

“Yeah, well, it’d be good for you to meet the townsfolk.” He winks. “And Navie told you to come tonight. On Friday. At nine thirty. When the place goes a little bonkers, usually.”

“Hey, it sounds fun.”

“Oh, it is.” He leans against the wall and smiles. “But you’re gonna need a bodyguard.”

“Are you volunteering for the job, Wesley?”

He scowls, making me laugh. I toss a tub of butter his way. He catches it and puts it in the fridge.

“I had one of those,” he says.

“Sue me for not trusting it.” I take out a box of crackers. “What time do we leave?”

“Well, I think it’s probably best to get there earlier than nine thirty. But I need to run a couple of errands first. So maybe we meet there around eight? Kind of break the place in first?

“That sounds good. I need some time to get cleaned up.”

“I think you look great.”

I ignore the look in his eye and the riot inside me. He’s being kind. Period. Nothing more.

“Well, thank you, but I need a shower and to change,” I say.

He glances at his watch. “I need to run a part out to a farm for a tractor and then swing by Nana’s and … okay, really, I need to go see if she saved me one of Sienna’s blueberry muffins. But I also need to make sure someone visited her today. It was Lance’s turn, but he called earlier. He and Mariah had something come up with the baby they’re supposed to be adopting, so I said I’d go over.”

“Go. Tell her hello from me. I can meet you at the bar later,” I offer.

He nods. “Sounds good. Just shoot me a text when you’re on your way over, and I’ll make sure I leave. It’ll be my diversion. Sometimes I get over there, and it’s hard to leave.”

“Gotcha. I’m just gonna put the rest of this away. I mostly got staples since you were kind of lacking, well, everything.”

He eyes the food on the table. “Want me to help?”

I do. Not because I need it, but because I want to keep him around. But there’s no way I’d stop Peck from going to Nana’s. She’s such an amazing woman that it’s no wonder Peck and his cousins look after her. I’m almost envious that I won’t get to see her. Although, turning up two days in a row would definitely get her started on the relationship train again.

Not going there.

“Nope. I got it. Have fun,” I say.

He grins. “Okay. Tomorrow, I’m cooking for you,” he says, pointing a finger my way.

“Deal.”

He flashes me a final killer smile before disappearing outside.

I walk to the window and watch him get in his truck. He looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“That’s what I need to do,” I say, dragging myself away from the window. “I need to have less cares in the world.”

My phone rings on the table. I look at the caller’s name on the screen. I reach over and silence the call from my mom.

“Starting now.”

Fourteen

Dylan

“Who knew there were this many people in this town?”

My voice is drowned out by a large truck with huge tailpipes. They’re so big that I’m pretty sure I could crawl into one of them and hide in the event of a zombie invasion.

Trucks line the street outside Crave. There are a few cars here and there, but it’s by far and large trucks. Big ones. Loud ones. Dirty ones.

I run a hand down the front of my coral-colored faux-silk shirt. Way too much thought went into choosing my outfit to go to some small-town bar. I even went as far as taking selfies in the fullest-length mirror I could find in Peck’s house and scrutinizing them that way. The winner was the pinky-orange shirt that skims my curves and makes my breasts look like they exist. Paired with a pair of denim shorts and some strappy wedges, I don’t look too I-got-dressed-out-of-a-suitcase.

I don’t think.

“It’s just a bar with friends,” I whisper as I pull open the door to Crave.

Surprisingly, it’s not too packed. The building is long and narrow with a couple of pool tables in the back. A bulletin board lines the front wall, and a long bar extends down the right side. Christmas lights hang above a mirror behind the bar, showcasing the bottles of liquor and random signs that seem to have been hung haphazardly on the glass.