I smiled at her, huge, “More than likely, but honestly, if that man were my husband, no way in all that’s holy would I ever entertain the thought of spending even a nanosecond with another man.”
She smiled back down at me, “So, it’s like that?”
I nodded, then let something slip I hadn’t ever told a single soul about, “He’s so far out of my league it’s not even funny.”
And then... well.... it would seem that the three glasses of wine I had tonight, in the thirty minutes I had been here, had caught up to me.
Literally.
Because my little wine-lidded brain completely forgot that the phone had been on speaker, which was proven true when I heard, “Harlee Belle, I think you have it the other way around.”
My wine-lidded brain spoke for me before I could stop myself, my eyes were trained on my phone, when I asked, albeit breathily, “Which part?”
“The part about me being out of your league. Cause, Darling, where I’m sittin’ that title would go to me.”
I scowled, then, “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He said,
“Yeah, it sounded like you said you weren’t good enough for me. And if that’s the case, then that’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. Even worse, when Billy Turner told the entire school in ninth grade that he had gone all the way with me.”
Carter was silent then.
And then I heard, in that low raspy tone of his, “He’s been cruisin’ for a bruisin’ for a while. Thanks for giving me the perfect ammunition I needed to go pay that fucker a visit when I get back.”
Then he said, “Okay, gotta get to a meeting, then I gotta get suited up.”
My brain wasn’t too wine lidded to say, “Okay, please be careful.”
“Always, Harlee Belle. Always.” And then the call ended.
The waitress who had come over winked down at me, and asked, “What does he do, if you don’t mind me asking?”
I grinned, “You probably know him. It was Carter Griggs.”
She gasped, then she nodded, “Figures. Have a good night.”
I watched her walk away and then looked across the table at Victor.
Who was still talking to our waitress, and I grimaced when I saw her scribble something on a piece of paper and hand it to him.
I looked up at her then and asked, “Can you bring us the check? I think this date is over.”
Her eyes widened at that, and Victor looked shocked.
Seriously?
Just then, a shadow fell over our table. I looked up and then sighed when I saw Garrick. “He called you?”
Garrick shook his head. “Texted me. Wanted me to come pick you up, and to let you know that the moment he gets back into town, the two of you are going to have a conversation.”
I groaned then and promptly face-plant the table. It was even followed by the littlethunkof my head meeting the wood.
“Talia is going to kill me,” I murmured, but was muffled by the table.
I heard Garrick snicker, okay, not muffled enough apparently, “Nah, seein’ as she’s waiting in the truck, and is more than likely about to come in here, drag you out, and sit on you until Carter gets home.”
My head jerked up, my gaze colliding with Garrick’s, when I asked, “What?”
