Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Palmer opened her mouth and let out an exaggerated breath. “Holy crap that’s strong.”
“Have you ever had liquor before?” Kent asked her.
She looked mortified at his question. “I’m not a prude.”
“Didn’t say you were.”
“Of course I have. It’s just not something I do by myself, unless it’s wine. I do like wine.”
“We should head to Napa when we get back and tour one of the vineyards.”
Palmer smiled, but it didn’t meet her eyes. Kent already knew without asking her—she didn’t expect to make it back to San Francisco.
Their dinner came, and most of their conversation turned to Kent bugging Palmer to eat. She took three or four bites of her mashed potatoes, a few bites of her chicken, and then said she’d had enough and excused herself to use the restroom.
He motioned for their server. “It’s my girlfriend’s birthday. I want to surprise her with a piece of cake. Do you have a candle?”
The server smiled brightly and promised to return quickly. Kent watched for Palmer to return, giddy with excitement about what he’d done.
“Why do you look like you’re up to something?” she asked.
He didn’t have time to even shrug. The server, along with other staff members, approached the table. They started singing before Palmer’s mouth dropped open wide in shock. Her eyes glistened as the server set a piece of cake in front of her with a lone candle.
“Make a wish,” Kent said to her as he reached for her hand.
Palmer let her tears fall as she blew out her candle. Everyone clapped, wished her a happy birthday, and then went on their way.
“I can’t believe you did this.”
“Now you’ve had birthday cake,” he said with a wink. “I know this isn’t on the list and it’s not either of the days, but celebrating now felt right.”
“Thank you.” She reached across the table and held his hand.
For every bite she took, Kent took three. She had barely eaten her dinner; there was no way he’d get her to eat cake too. He had hoped, though. As a kid, he’d much rather eat dessert than dinner.
As they walked to the car, Kent saw a bright neon sign that said DANCING, with a pair of boots moving back and forth. He looked down at their feet and shrugged. They didn’t have boots, but they could dance. Well, he could hold on to Palmer and make sure she didn’t collapse on the floor.
“Where are we going? The car is this way.” She stopped them in their tracks and pointed.
“We’re going over there.” Kent pointed at the bar.
“We are? Why?”
“Why not? Dancing in Texas at a bar with flashing cowboy boots should be on everyone’s bucket list.”
Palmer hesitated for a moment. She looked from the neon sign to Kent, and then down at the ground. “I don’t think we’re dressed appropriately.”
Kent laughed. “Only one way to find out.”
He paid their cover charge at the door and escorted Palmer in. The crowd wasn’t as large as Kent expected it to be, but it was still sizable. He led Palmer right to the dance floor. He didn’t know a thing when it came to line dancing, but that wasn’t why they were there. He wanted to dance with her. Ever since the day in the park, he’d wanted to hold her tightly and let their bodies sway to the music, and that was what he planned to do now.
“I don’t think I can do this,” she said. Kent watched her and not the people around them. He was head over heels in love with her and wanted to tell her. He loved seeing how something as simple as a group of people dancing captivated her interest. Line dancing was an art form, and she seemed to be in awe.
Kent leaned in. “We don’t have to do what they’re doing. We can just dance, or we can wait for a two-step, and I’ll teach you how to do that.”
He kept his head next to hers, enjoying the smell of her perfume. “You know how?” she asked. He nodded. “Teach me?”
“My pleasure.”
They only had to wait for the current song to finish, and then people started to pair up. Kent placed Palmer’s hands where he wanted them, and then told her to focus on his eyes and let her body feel the music. He pulled her close and gave her instructions as they moved around the floor. She stepped on his feet too many times to count, and they were definitely wearing the wrong shoes, but he wouldn’t have passed this moment up for anything.
An hour later, Palmer looked into Kent’s eyes and cried.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I’m having one of the best nights of my life,” she told him.
“So, these are happy tears?” His thumb caressed her cheek and wiped her tears.
“No,” she said in a broken voice. “I don’t feel well.”