Page 17

SAWYER

The second stair from the bottom lets out a long, achy creak that seems loud enough that I’m pretty sure it can be heard in the center of Hickory Hills.

To make matters worse, my phone dings almost immediately after, as if in response, basically sending up a flare that Sawyer is trying to leave the house.

So much for sneaking out unnoticed.

Eliza

Have fun on your date!

Not a date

But I’m still nervous

Totally a date. Especially if you’re nervous

Thanks, Eliza. That’s exactly the kind of support I need right now.

It’s bad enough that my stomach has been in knots all day.

That I looked up every time the lab door opened wondering—hoping?

—if it was going to be Anton walking in.

And then, when he did, I froze. Like a thirteen-year-old girl staring at the cute quarterback as he strides down the hallway, my mind flashing with thoughts of him sweaty and tugging on that rope.

This is not who I am.

Except, it is when it comes to Anton Hayes.

“You look cute.”

I stop, turning toward the sweet voice offering up the sincere compliment.

Miss Belle smiles, looking up from whatever it is she’s reading, shifting on her stool at the long kitchen counter.

My insides ease, my nerves dissipating slightly thanks to her warmth, even if my brain is still a little scattered on how to handle all this with her.

Every part of me wants to confide in her.

Tell her what I’m feeling and build on the connection we found that first day at Dolly’s.

A desire that I’m pretty sure is mutual, since she and Auggie continue to ask me questions, involve me in things, and in general take an interest in how my day goes.

Right about now, I could use someone who has an interest in offering up some real advice.

But she’s also Anton’s mom.

And there are some things you simply don’t say to someone’s mama.

“Thanks.” I look down at my tee, jean skirt, and sneakers, still wondering if I look a little too casual. Anton hasn’t given me any kind of hint about what we’re doing, so I’m going in blind and hoping for the best. “I’m hoping this is okay?”

Miss Belle’s smile widens as she pushes up, walking over to me. Her hands immediately start playing with my hair, moving faster than I realized possible.

“There.” She winks conspiratorially.

“Hello?” Anton calls out.

“Here goes…” I whisper, turning to go .

“Sawyer,” she says, and I stop, turning back to her, “order the most expensive thing on the menu, and give him hell.”

I nod, unable to hold back a laugh. I really like this woman.

Rounding the corner, I head for the door, stopping short as I’m cut off by Auggie. Uh-oh.

“What are you doing here?” Auggie asks, confusion laced into his features.

“I’m here to pick Sawyer up for our date,” Anton replies.

“What?” Auggie exclaims, looking over to me then back again. “No, this isn’t how you do it.”

Walking over to the door, he opens it back up again, gesturing for Anton to walk back outside.

“You need to ring the doorbell. I’ll answer, give you the third degree…”

“Oh boy…” Miss Belle mutters from behind me.

Oh boy is right…

“No, Dad, I’m just going to grab Sawyer and?—”

“The hell you are, Son.”

I reel back, almost stepping on Miss Belle in the process. The sternness in Auggie’s voice catches me by surprise, seeming so out of character for someone who is such a teddy bear.

“We’re gonna do this right. Need to make sure you’re treatin’ our girl right, you know. Out you go…”

“This isn’t happening…” Anton mutters, following his father’s directions.

I glance over my shoulder at Miss Belle. She huffs out a small laugh, shaking her head as she rolls her eyes.

The doorbell rings, and Auggie opens it up, making a big show about how Anton must be here to pick me up. True to his word, he starts in on making sure that I’m treated properly, having me home on time, and every other stereotypical dad lecture .

All the ones my own dad would never have given anyone.

Nonetheless, I want to dig myself a hole right here and crawl into it. This isn’t happening is right. This isn’t even a real date. We’re faking it. Using each other so that he can win a bet and I can get a job promotion. Not that admitting that in the moment is going to make anything better.

“And no funny business. I expect you to keep your hands to yourself?—”

What?!

“Okay, we gotta go!” I exclaim, my cheeks feeling like they must be the color of the newly painted pink walls by now. Sweet Lord, we need to get out of here.

I push past the group, heading out the door and straight for Anton’s truck. Behind me, I hear him tell his parents we’ll be back later, but I tune out any of the details, focusing on trying to calm my racing pulse.

We’re halfway out of town by the time my heart rate is back to normal and I can do anything but stare straight out of the passenger side window.

Shifting on the bench seat, I glance over at Anton, who doesn’t seem to be bothered, his muscular arm draped over the wheel so casually you’d think he was posing for a photo.

The line of his farmer’s tan peeks out from the sleeve of his T-shirt, flirting with the idea of coming out to play, making the knots in my tummy turn into butterflies.

“Sorry ’bout that back there,” Anton says. “Auggie is nothing if not a dad’s dad. And he loves being a dad to everyone.”

“I can tell.” I sigh, relaxing a little more. “And it’s okay. I…I…”

I pause, debating how much I want to share.

How much I trust that whatever is said between us in this truck is going to stay here.

But then Anton looks over at me, his perfect blue eyes as soft as the blanket the Snuggle Bear used to fall into on the old TV commercials, and somewhere deep down, I know that I can tell him anything.

“I kinda liked it, actually. It’s not something that my dad would have ever done. So, I dunno, it made me feel special.”

Anton doesn’t say anything, just nods his head as he turns onto the state highway.

For a split second, I wonder if I’ve said too much.

Revealed more than I should have. After all, this isn’t a real date.

We aren’t actually getting to know each other.

He probably didn’t want that kind of knowledge about me or my family.

“We’re just getting started making you feel special, Sawyer.”

Holy shit…

I realize that’s probably a line, but damn, it’s working.

“Ready to dine and dash?” he asks, pulling into a crowded dirt parking lot.

“No! That’s illegal!”

Anton chuckles, whipping into an open spot at the far end of the lot and slipping the truck into park. Before I can continue, he’s out of the car, rounding the front and opening my door. The smile on his face is more disarming than a trained army, my resolve melting the second he takes my hand.

“Not here,” he tells me with a wink.

He doesn’t let go of my hand, sending my pulse skyrocketing again. I don’t know what has me more on edge—the feel of his palm against mine, the roughness from the callouses sending shivers across my skin, or the fact that he’s so nonchalant about skipping out on the tab.

Until I see the large billboard sign greeting us as we walk out of the parking lot.

“Welcome to the Dine and Dash Depot,” he whispers, leaning into me. “Middle Georgia’s largest, and finest, food truck park. ”

“Food trucks…”

“Yup. Wasn’t sure what you did or didn’t eat, so…I figured we had a decent shot at finding something here. That, and in Hickory Hills our choices would have been, well…pizza.”

“Hickory Hills has more than just pizza, doesn’t it?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “We have Dolly’s, but she closes at two. Then there’s Little Slice of Heaven, the pizza place, and Kountry Kitchen, and well, I don’t hate anyone enough to let them eat there.”

Oh. Well, noted.

“Right, well…” I look around, taking in more than a dozen food trucks, overwhelmed with all the choices. Every last one of them seems popular, with lines of various lengths formed in front of them. “Anything you recommend?”

“Let’s see who’s here…” Anton scans the lines, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes as he thinks.

“And Cheese is really good—they do different kinds of grilled cheese and mac and cheese. Lord of the Fries has just about every kind of deep fried everything you can think of. The Ragin Cajun is decent, but if you like Cajun food, Margeaux’s is better.

All Up In My Grill makes a damn good burger.

Gato’s Tacos is pretty good. But, if you’re willing to be a little adventurous, then Foreign Policy is Asian fusion, and makes the best Korean fries. ”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Korean fries.”

“Fries smothered in Bulgogi, cheese, onions, cilantro, and spicy mayo.”

My stomach growls as Anton lists the ingredients, immediately raising its hand and casting its vote.

“That, definitely.”

“I knew I liked you, Sawyer Brown.”

Two massive orders of Korean fries later, we’re sitting on the flatbed of Anton’s truck, chowing down.

Quiet surrounds us, nothing but muted sounds of voices far off in the food truck park, mixed in with the occasional car that drives down the road as our soundtrack.

The wild mix of flavors bursts on my tongue with every bite, but it’s still not enough to fully steal my attention from Mr. Too good-looking for his own good to my left.

Because even sitting like this—calm, still, with no agenda but having a meal—has every bit of me on high alert.

“So, whatcha wanna do next on our date?” he asks, one side of his mouth turning upward into a smirk as he pops a fry into his mouth.

A mouth I can’t stop staring at.

“Err…isn’t this it?”

“The first part.”

“We could not, and say we did.”

“Yeah, that’s not how this is gonna work, Sawyer.”

A zing rips up my spine. Something about the way he says my name—slow, steady, and deep, like it’s a piece of the finest chocolate—makes me want him to say it over and over again.