Total pages in book: 191
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
I waited a second.
Two seconds.
The speakers in my car finally picked up, and I still waited.
And my beloved Zac didn’t let me down.
It took two beats of the song to ring through my car before he snorted and the back of his hand nudged at my upper arm.
I grinned at him just as I hit the gas. Lifting my finger, I pointed at him and sang the last two words of the first bar, “…go girls.” The shoulder closest to him moved in time to the beat of the song I’d been forced to listen to like half a million times around him when I’d been younger. Zac snorted again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his fingers tapping along to the beat on his thigh, and I kept on singing, knowing I was pretty much yelling out the lyrics totally out of tune and not giving a single shit, especially not when he started laughing right before the chorus.
And then, then, this fool joined in.
At the top of his lungs, with that accent that felt like a hug, he sang all about forgetting he was a lady.
And together, almost at the top of our lungs, we sang about feeling wild, about short skirts, and mostly… about feeling like a woman.
We were both dying laughing at the end.
There were tears in my eyes, and he was leaning against the seat, both hands on top of his head as that lean torso puffed in and out with ragged breaths as he kept on cracking up.
“Oh, I needed that,” he wheezed, dragging those big palms down his face to wipe at his eyes and cheeks.
“Then get ready for the rest of my playlist, bubba,” I warned him right as the next song started.
And then, we were at it again. I did it for his sake. To get that smile back on his face. The light behind his eyes.
It worked.
We sang about just breathing, about someone named Jolene, and right as I was pulling the car into the parking lot, we thought we were performing on The Voice while we sang about having friends in low places.
I turned off the car then and turned to Zac, wanting to ask him if he was better but not wanting to ruin it when I could see it in his eyes that he was. Because he was smiling that big, old Zac smile that made his entire face resemble Christmas lights. And I couldn’t help but return the expression.
He took my hand from where I’d set it on my lap and brought it up to his face, kissing the back of it with those firm, warm lips.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit my little heart stuttered a second.
But I didn’t think twice about leaning over and planting a quick kiss on his cheek. “There’s my Big Texas.” I tapped him on the cheek with my free hand and said, “I’m always here for you if you need me.” He knew that. Then I booped him on the nose once more. “Come on. Let’s get this over with so we can gas each other out on the way back.”
He barked out a laugh. “I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about now.”
I pulled my hand out from his and snorted as I sat back and went for the door handle. “You should be. I haven’t eaten this in years. If you’d let me choose, we’d be eating roast beef and melted cheese sandwiches.”
I was pretty sure he snickered as I got out, and he met me by the trunk, sliding sunglasses on to cover his face. Maybe we should have ordered through the drive-through and eaten in the car, but he’d say something if he had too much trouble being in public. I figured. We’d gone grocery shopping. Gone to a quinceañera together. Plus, it was his idea, saying it would taste better warm. We weren’t in a rush.
He eyed my car for a second and then looked at me.
I was parked pretty crooked. Fine. I could admit it. “Leave me alone,” I muttered.
Zac smiled tightly but he nodded.
No one paid us any attention inside as we each ordered a meal and we both pulled out cash at the same time.
“Let’s split it,” I tried to offer.
“I got it,” he said at the same time.
We stared at each other.
“How many times have you made me dinner now?” he asked, arching one of those annoying blond eyebrows. “I gotta start buying you groceries.”
We stared at each other some more.
The cashier cleared his throat, and we both must have realized we were being annoying holding up the line.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized to him, still looking at Zac. “Might as well get me some of those cinnamon things while we’re at it if you’re paying.”
“The cinnamon things too, please. Thank you.”