“Just don’t use Todd or Brad,” Owen quips and I give him a pointed look.
“These are really good,” I tell Danielle after I take a bite of my enchilada.
“Thanks. I got the recipe from my grandma’s cookbook. I might not be the best baker, but I can follow simple recipes at least.”
I don’t realize just how drunk I am until I stand up after finishing everything on my plate. I sway on my feet, and Owen, who just got up as well, puts his hand on my shoulder to steady me. I should be worried about how far gone I am, but all I can think about is how warm his skin feels against mine.
He takes my plate from me and carries it into the kitchen. I still have a bit of sangria left in my glass, so I take it and join the girls in the living room. Owen helps Logan clean up the dishes, and I take a spot on the couch where I can see him loading the dishwasher.
Quinn and Scarlet are making plans to meet up at the farmer’s market this week and then go meet Danielle for lunch since she’s working at the bakery. Dean’s wife, Kara, who I think is a teacher by the sounds of it, agrees to hang out with her sisters-in-law but doesn’t seem too happy about it.
“Are you able to meet us for lunch too?” Quinn asks me. “We’ll be downtown.”
“I think so. I don’t really have a set lunch break, and I only have one client of my own so far, so I’m pretty free.”
“Great!” Quinn smiles and looks at Scarlet, who’s about to say something. Weston catches her eye and shakes his head. She purses her lips and narrows her eyes at him in a playful glare, but she doesn’t say whatever she was going to. She and Quinn want to set me up with Owen, I know.
And maybe I am way too drunk because, right now, I wouldn’t mind.Chapter 26Owen“You know how you asked me if I missed the city?” Charlie rests her head against the seat and looks out the car window, watching farmland pass us by.
“Yeah?”
“I miss one thing right now. Guess what it is.”
“Easily accessible strip clubs?”
She lets out a snort of laughter. “Oh, totally.” She’s drunk, and it’s fucking adorable. “Takeout.”
“Takeout strippers?”
“No,” she laughs and hits my arm. “Takeout food. I could really go for some fried rice right about now.”
“How are you possibly hungry?” I ask, chuckling. “You had two pieces of cake.”
“Are you judging me?” She straightens up and tries to look like she’s mad, or more like she thinks she should be mad.
“Not at all. I never judge you, Charlie.”
Her expression softens. “I know. You never have. Thank you.”
She turns back to look out the window and I take my eyes off the road for a second to admire her beauty. Her hair is down, blowing in the wind from the open window.
“You don’t happen to serve orange chicken and fried rice at Getaway, do you?”
“We just took that off the menu,” I joke.
“Why’d you do that?” She twists back around in the seat, eyes wide.
“I’m joking, Charlie. It’s a bar and grill. We’ve never served Chinese food there.”
“You should. Because it’s good.”
“Maybe I’ll bring it up with our head cook. Don’t hold your breath, though. And if you want fried rice that bad, I can make you some. I don’t know how to make orange chicken, but find me a recipe and I’ll try.”
“You’d do that for me?”
I’d do anything for her. Making her food is nothing, and I’d go to the ends of the earth to make Charlie happy. “Of course. Because now that you’re talking about it, fried rice does sound good.”
“It does. It so does.” She’s quiet the rest of the way home, making me think she fell asleep. She might have dozed off a bit but perks up when we pull into the garage.
“It’s so dark.”
“I closed the garage door,” I laugh. “It cut out most of the fading sunlight.”
“Oh, right.”
“Need help getting out, drunky?”
“I’m not drunk and no, I don’t.” She tries to open the truck door before it’s unlocked. “I knew that was locked.”
“Sure you did. Just don’t bang the door into the wall.”
“I’m not a child.”
“But you’re drunk.”
She glares at me. “Like you’re one to talk.”
“Oh, I’m not. Not at all. And I know I need to be reminded of simple shit when I’m drunk too.”
Carefully opening the door, she gets out with grace. It’s impressive really, since her heels are several inches tall and it’s a bit of a drop getting out of this big truck.
“Well, I don’t.” She leans in to talk to me and hits her head when she goes to close the door.
“Oh, shit.” I get out and rush around, finding her with her hands on her head. She’s laughing, but for a split second, I think she’s crying.