Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Instead of calling him and begging him for his time, I get in my car and drive to Harris. The food trucks are at Sunflower Park again today, and if I can’t spend time with him, I can visit a place that will forever remind me of him and have some dinner.
The drive is nice. It’s about twenty minutes from Willow River and an easy drive. When I get to the park, it’s not nearly as busy as I anticipated it would be at this time of evening.
After parking my car, I climb out and head toward the row of food trucks. There aren’t as many here as the night when Brooks and I were here, but the smells still have my belly growling. I take in my options and decide on pulled pork, deep-fried pickles, and a sweet tea. I grab my tea first. That way, my food doesn’t get cold or soggy. My next stop is the pickles, and last, the pulled pork sandwich.
I had planned to eat in my car, but there are several open picnic tables, so I decide to do that instead. It’s a nice night, warm for Georgia summer, but not so hot I’ll melt to death while I eat either. It helps that the sun is setting. The food trucks will be closing up soon, so I made it just in time.
Peeling back the wrapper on my pulled pork, I take a big bite and moan as the taste explodes on my tongue. So damn good. Digging beneath the container for a napkin, I wipe at my mouth just as I feel a presence behind me. Don’t ask me how, but I know it’s him.
“I bet you that doesn’t taste as good as you do.” Brooks’s deep voice greets me.
I turn to look over my shoulder. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
He takes a seat facing me on the bench of the picnic table. “Archer needed some more materials. I volunteered to pick them up for him so we’d have them this weekend to finish up the project. He has to work tomorrow, and I’m off, so I volunteered. I was stopping to grab something to eat. I saw you sitting here.”
“Go get yourself something. Eat with me.”
He smiles, leans in, and pecks my lips. “I’ll be right back.” He stands to move toward the food trucks. I glance around, looking to see if anyone we know is here and could have seen him kiss me.
I can’t believe he did that in public. Then again, he got me off in the hallway at my brother's when anyone could have come in the house and caught us. This kiss, though. It was soft and sweet and almost felt like something he would do if we were a real couple. Something I know I can’t let my heart wish for.
I spend too much time in my head, because before I know it, Brooks is back and taking his place next to me at the table. “I grabbed a large bucket of fries so we could share.”
“Are you trying to put me into another food coma?” I ask, stealing a fry from the large bucket.
“Maybe just sweeten you up to convince you to come home with me?”
“Hmm, and you think fries will do that?”
He shrugs. “Not sure, but I’m pretty sure the promise of orgasms will.” He takes a huge bite of his pulled pork sandwich.
“Plural?” I ask, knowing damn well that’s what he said.
“The night’s still young” is his reply.
“I don’t know. That’s a big challenge to fulfill.” I’m trying to keep the banter going, so maybe he doesn’t notice what his words do to me. So that maybe he doesn’t realize my panties are already ruined.
For him.
He reaches over and grabs my hand, pulls it beneath the picnic table, and places it over his cock. His very noticeably hard cock. “Challenge accepted.” He laces his fingers through mine and rests them on his thigh, which leaves us both with just one hand to eat with. I’m fine with it. And sure, it looks obvious, but our hands are not out in the open where anyone can see us.
“What are the chances that we’d both be here for dinner again?” I ask.
“I was driving by, and this reminded me of you and our day together.” He shrugs. “I hadn’t had dinner, so I stopped. I had plans to call you on my way home and see what you were doing.”
“I wanted to call you,” I confess. “I knew that you were helping Archer, and I didn’t want to interrupt. I knew the trucks were here again, and yeah, they reminded me of our day here, so I got in the car, and here I am.”
“You should have called. You could have ridden with me.”
“Next time I will.”