Page 9 of Nothing At All

And she’d smiled at me as she took my hand, friendliness blooming on her face. One of her friends nudged the other.

“Lila.”

“Pretty name.” My neck burned hot.

Okay, maybe this was more dangerous than a traffic stop.

Her smile widened, eyes twinkling. Oh, my God. She was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen in my whole entire life.

“I’ll tell my mama you approve.” A dimple appeared at one corner of my mouth. “It’s my grandma’s name. She’s Lila Beth and I’m just Lila.”

“Don’t think you could ever be just Lila.” Could I get any hotter? Sweat prickled over my body. I cleared my throat. “But repeating names is a Southern tradition. Like my buddy Chuck. He’s really Charles. His uncle is Charles and–”

Shut the fuck up, Dan.

Her eyes sparkled, the corners creased with good humor. “Is Dan a family name?”

I shook my head. “No.”

My father had picked out my name and Lydia, Biblical names while he was fucking around on Mama. Real good godly example there.

I couldn’t tell her that.

She waited, cordial gaze on me, and what the hell was I supposed to do now?

Traffic stops had a rhythm to them, even if they went sideways. I’d been trained in what to do in various scenarios. I had practical knowledge I could walk out.

Here, I had no clue.

“Do you play darts?” Desperation roughened my voice. I resisted the urge to wipe my palms down my thighs.

“I do.” One corner of her lips tipped higher. “Grandaddy taught me.”

I released a shaky breath and tilted my head toward an empty board. “Want to play?”

She glanced over her shoulder, exchanging some look I didn’t understand with her friends, then she grinned at me. “Sure.”

Darts were my thing, but she proceeded to beat me two out of three games. I’d left the Millhouse with her number in my phone and plans to take her out the following Friday night.

That had been the longest week of my life, waiting to see her again.

In the past few months, she’d become everything while I worked to be the best boyfriend I could be.

Still thinking about her – specifically how she’d felt in my arms Saturday night, the way she’d come apart under my mouth and hands and how damn glad I was that had worked – I wheeled into the lot at the Hickory House. Chuck and I met for lunch once a week and took turns buying. Not gonna lie, I’d picked his brain more than once on what being a good boyfriend looked like, since he and Deanne made love and marriage look easy.

I logged in my stop for lunch and killed the ignition, a chilly wind tickling my nose and ears when I stepped out. I hunched into my duty jacket, hurrying across the lot to the entrance, a blast of heated air and the rich smell of smoked meats greeting me when I swung the door open.

Not seeing Chuck yet, which was weird because he was never late, I snagged an available table and set my campaign hat on the empty chair next to mine, jacket slung over the back. Hell, it was hot in here, sweat prickling along the back of my neck.

My phone buzzed, a pair of text notifications flashing on the screen when I tugged it from my pocket. I tapped on My Pretty Girl first, her profile picture and the very thought of her giving me a warm thrill.

Enjoy your lunch with Chuck

I toggled over to his text before replying.

Hey man, need a raincheck

Sending back a thumbs-up, I returned my attention to mine and Lila’s text thread.