Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Good morning, Malcolm!” he calls out as he approaches the porch. “I thought I’d swing by early, since you said you like to skip breakfast. Didn’t want you to starve.” He gives his own joke a little laugh, then notices I’m not alone. “Hi there, Mr. Samuel.”
Samuel drops his hand from my back at once. “Hey.”
It isn’t altogether clear whether they know each other or just know of each other. Maybe they just met yesterday helping Nadine set up the house. I just assume everyone knows everyone here in Spruce, especially when one of them works with the town vet.
Cole returns his handsome gaze to me. “Ready to head out for a bite? Hope you got yourself an appetite! Of course, we can spend some time hanging around here first, if you want.” He smiles.
I set the mug down on the bench next to me. Samuel notices, his stony eyes dropping to it like the mug is his heart. “I guess we, um …” I’m about to glance at Samuel, then decide not to and rise from the bench. “We could go now. Sure.”
“Nice!” Cole swirls his keys on a finger, his smile brightening.
I take two steps and stop. Just go, I order myself, then take two more. When I hit the gravel, I stop completely, feet planted.
Then I peer over my shoulder. “What’re you waiting for?”
Samuel looks up from the mug, confused.
Cole appears confused as well.
So I clear up their confusion. “Samuel’s joining us for a bite at this Big Boy Burger place. I think he’s worked up an appetite, too.”
Chapter 10
Biggie’s Bite Me.
I should have thought this out better.
We’re seated at the only available table during the lunch rush: the tiniest four-person table in the universe.
I’m in one chair.
Cole is to my left.
Samuel, to my right.
No one has said anything since we’ve been served our drinks: a water each for me and Cole, and a tall glass of Coke for Samuel. Now we’re just staring at our menus, gnawing on our thoughts and saying nothing.
Until I finally lower my menu. “So do you know each other?”
They lower theirs as well. “Of course, he works with Mr. King at the veterinary clinic,” says Cole—at the exact same time Samuel mumbles, “Never met the guy.” Then the two draw quiet again and stare across the table in a tension-filled silence.
I nod and pretend not to notice anything awkward. “I figured everyone must know the town vet.”
“Except Mr. King is the town vet,” says Cole.
Samuel’s jaw tightens. “Right. I’m the vet tech, which I guess makes me … oh, how might you put it? … Mr. King’s glorified gofer.”
“You’re hardly just a gofer,” Cole insists. “Oh, isn’t a gopher also a small rodent? If I’m not mistaken, they’re very cute.”
Samuel gnaws on the inside of his lip, throwing daggers with his eyes, while Cole appears entirely unaware of Samuel’s ire, his own mind seeming to be full of images of adorable gophers now.
I really, really should have thought this through.
I open my mouth to say something—and Samuel cuts me off. “Hey, Malckie, can you put in an order for me whenever the dude finally comes back to us? I gotta use the boy’s room.”
I frown. “What should I get?”
“Oh, y’know, whatever, anything, everything.” He eyes Cole. “I can handle anything.”
Cole grimaces playfully. “I wouldn’t say that about the Tackle Burger. It’s got a bite, and then that bite’s got a bite.”
Samuel, obviously taking that for a challenge, smirks. “Order me two.” Then he slips from his chair and heads off. Cole and I turn to watch him as he disappears around the corner of the short hallway where the restrooms reside.
“Know what you want to order yet?” asks Cole.
I turn back to him. “Oh. Um, probably just a Biggie’s Burger.”
“Ah. Good choice. Keep it simple, classic.” He taps the menu. “I think I’ll get that. It’s what I got last time I was here. Delicious.”
He’s pointing at an item that’s paired with a picture of a very appetizing sandwich, fluffed up with greens and healthy stuff. For some reason, that choice seems to perfectly fit Cole.
What a weird observation to have.
Considering I don’t really know him at all.
“Hmm … ‘Malckie’ …”
I look up from the menu. “What?”
“He’s got a nickname for you,” says Cole with a little smile.
“Oh.” I shake my head, brushing it off. “It’s stupid. Silly.”
“Has a cute ring to it. Malckie …”
“Ugh, don’t breathe any more life into it than Samuel already has, please,” I say with half a laugh, then stiffen up. “I’m … I’m not really a nickname kind of person.”
“It was really nice of you, by the way.”
I look at him. “What was?”
“Inviting Samuel along. I thought that was nice of you.”
“Oh.” Really? That was an act of kindness? I felt emotionally coerced somehow, even if no one did any coercing at all. And I’m pretty sure Cole’s vision of today did not include a third occupant at this already crowded, tiny table.