Rick turned and walked toward the parking garage stairwell. "Del said we're doing spaghetti. He's driving."
"I thought Del wanted to lose some weight. No tunnel walking today?"
Houston's underground network of tunnels ran beneath the downtown city blocks, linking the buildings together. They were a hodgepodge of long hallways and large, open shopping malls. When he'd first learned of the tunnel system, he'd pictured walking through creepy, dank hallways. But aside from the absence of windows, you'd never know you were underground. And it certainly beat walking in the blazing heat aboveground. Nothing like working up a sweat from simply crossing the street.
"Nope. We're going to a restaurant on the upper limits of downtown. Some kind of historical landmark that used to be somebody's house or something. C'mon, they're waiting for us."
Noah followed along. His steps slowed when he spotted fiery red curls in the group ahead. A quick headcount showed five people bound for Del's four-door sedan, which meant it would be a tight squeeze. Larry must have observed the same thing because he called "Shotgun!" before Noah could react.
"I vote the tiny ginger gets the middle back seat," Rick said.
Claire surprised him by agreeing. "No problem," she said. "I'm used to getting stuck in the middle."
He quickly realized what this meant for him. Great, I'm going to be squished against her.
They piled into their respective seats, and Del drove to their destination. Noah squeezed tight against the door in an effort not to touch Claire, but the limited space made it impossible. She smelled so good. Like cinnamon or some other scrumptious smell escaping the local bakery. He mentally groaned at the heat searing his body where they touched.
As soon as Del stopped the car, he bolted out. He held the door for her as she exited, wishing he'd turned down the lunch invitation and dreading the next hour.
After giving their orders, Del asked Rick for a baby update.
"Oh, congratulations on the baby!" Claire said. "You must be so excited."
Rick's smile was shy. "Thanks. We are."
"Do you know if you're having a boy or a girl?" she asked.
"Or twins?" Larry piped up. At Claire's questioning glance, he added, "Twins run in Rick's family."
"We're not having twins and we've elected to be surprised about the rest."
"So, Claire, you came to us from California, but that accent is all West Texas. What's your story?" Del asked, after offering her a roll from the bread basket.
One side of Claire's mouth lifted. "What accent?" The guys laughed as she'd intended and she told them about growing up in the desert, where you could see for miles because it was so flat. They peppered her with questions and she happily answered.
"Everything is brown. Just different shades of brown. Nothing but rocks and rattlesnakes." That description usually got a laugh when she told it.
"I do not like snakes," Srini piped in.
"Well, then… have I got a story for you. One of my summer jobs was working at the county golf course. One day, me and this other kid were riding along picking up trash when we came across this big, old bull snake sunning himself on the cart path. Now, these snakes aren't venomous and don't have rattles. Their defense is that they look like their mean old cousins, the rattlesnake. Anyway, Kevin was too scared to do anything, so I hopped out and snatched that snake up to move him off the path. When I turned around, Kevin was gone. He'd left me there on the back nine. I had to walk all the way to the maintenance shed."
"Holy crap, Claire!"
"That's amazing."
Claire relaxed under the praise. That story usually went one of two ways: they either thought she was awesome or a weirdo. Their positive responses made her so happy she'd accepted the lunch invitation.
Once the jokes about snake handling calmed down, they asked her about living in California, sticking to more personal questions, which she appreciated. Any inquiries about her job might have felt like some sort of test. They asked about the weather, cost of living, earthquakes, and basically how things differed from here in Houston.
Once their meal came, the conversation continued, but it was the guys sharing where they'd grown up and how they'd eventually landed in the jobs they were in. The entire time, she was acutely aware of Noah's quiet presence. While he mostly listened, occasionally he'd add a comment or ask a clarifying question.
When the server came by with the dessert tray, Claire slumped in her seat and rubbed her belly. No dessert for her. She was satiated and quite comfortable. In fact, she realized, she was more comfortable with these guys than she'd ever been with her California cohorts.
Despite Noah's misgivings, lunch passed quickly and pleasantly. The team volleyed question after question at Claire, and Noah realized this was the first time they'd spent any personal time with her. Through their questions, he learned about her life growing up in West Texas. She had a flair for storytelling and frequently elicited belly laughs from her audience. And her accent delighted him. That southern drawl kicked his pulse up a notch.
As the meal ended and the server took their credit cards, Claire pulled out a tube of lip gloss and rubbed it across her lips.
Larry caught her attention and asked, "Don't you need to dab it so you don't smear lipstick on your teeth?"
