Craft (The Gibson Boys 2)

“We always lobbied to play it, so I’m going to have to disagree. It was fun.”

“It’s pointless.”

“I loved it,” I offer, holding back an awkward laugh. “Anyway, that’s how I met Whit.”

“She’s a terrific nurse. What is it you do again?”

Blinking slowly, I wait for him to laugh. “I’m a librarian at the high school.” I enunciate each syllable, wondering how on Earth this man is going to be a doctor when he can’t pay attention for shit.

“I think you told me that.”

“I did.” Twice already. “I’ve always had a minor fascination with the medical world. I considered medical school myself, but there were too many people involved.”

“There are definitely a lot of people involved,” he laughs. “That’s kind of the point. We’re the ones who get in, elbows deep, and clean up the world. We do the work that matters.”

Our plates are placed in front of us. Jonah gets a little extra smile with his. I just cannot find it in me to be bothered.

Slicing into my chicken breast, I attempt to tune them out. The waitress’ giggle is abrasive and Jonah’s try at conversation so painful I almost wince. If it weren’t completely rude, I’d yank out my phone and ask Whitney how this guy is going to be a doctor when he has virtually no people skills. Less than even I do.

There is some weird chemistry between the two of them though, so I turn towards the window. As I chew my chicken, I’m kind of happy for him. I can’t imagine that he finds this kind of thing any easier than I do and Lord knows how much I struggle with dating. Or how much I would struggle if I did it regularly.

I hear the waitress leave. I decide to direct my attention back to Jonah and make an attempt at this date, when I stop. My fork falls to my plate and clinks off the china. From the other side of the window, in the drive-thru lane, sits Lance. His window is rolled down and he’s looking at me.

One eyebrow lifts as he takes me in. He ignores the guy honking behind him as he holds my glance for a few long seconds like he’s not sure what he’s seeing. Something must catch his eye because he turns his attention to something else.

He looks across from me.

To Jonah.

Oh God.

There’s no hiding his amusement when he slides his eyes back to mine. The asshole has the audacity to laugh. The car behind him honks again as I glare at him through the glass. I can imagine the snicker that’s undoubtedly toppling past his smirk as he pulls away.

Sagging back in my seat, I struggle to find room in my chest to fill it with air. It’s like all the oxygen was sucked from me and replaced with curiosity about Lance. My brain races through potential situations—where is he going, who is he with, who was he getting dinner for? My stomach sours.

“You okay?” Jonah’s voice drifts across the table, barely audible through my haze.

“Sorry,” I say, pasting on a smile. “It’s been a long day.”

“You didn’t hear anything I said, did you?”

My cheeks heat, like I got caught with my hand in the candy jar. “Uh, no. Can you repeat that?”

“I was saying I just got a text from the hospital,” he says. “There’s a new procedure scheduled in an hour I’d like to observe. It’s only performed at a few hospitals nationwide and I really think it’s important I stand in and see what it’s all about. It would be great for my career.”

Relief washes over me, but it’s fleeting. When I look up again, I almost fall out of my chair.

“Well, look who I found.” Lance’s voice is full of amusement as he strides right up to the table, no fucks given. Dressed in dark denim and a navy blue button-down that he didn’t bother to tuck in, he looks casual and delicious, despite the cocky look on his face.

I plead to the heavens that he didn’t come in here just to tease me. When he winks, I know I’m screwed.

The pink in my cheeks cranks up a notch as I look from an entertained Lance to a bewildered Jonah. I should say something, introduce them, because Jonah’s confusion is clear.

“What are you doing here?” I ask Lance instead. When I shoot him a look that practically begs him not to embarrass me, he just laughs.

“I was picking up dinner.”

“In the drive-thru,” I point out.

“And they forgot my apple pie,” he says. Pride blooms on his face like he’s tickled to death he came up with a lie so quickly. “I’m Lance Gibson,” he says, turning to Jonah. “And you are?”

“Jonah.” He looks at me briefly before turning back to Lance. “How do you know Mariah?”