Page 74 of Wright Together
“The story is that it used to be called Caboose when it was downtown. The first two letters burned out, and no one ever fixed them. Then, when it burned down in the ’90s, they built the new place and dropped Caboose and just became Boose. Everyone called it Boose anyway.”
My gaze shot to hers. “You made that up.”
“Did not!” she insisted. “It’s just Boose.”
“And we’re meeting your sister here?”
“Yeah. Bails said she’d be a few minutes late.”
“Oh, so it runs in the family?” I joked.
She shoved me as we made our way toward the restaurant. “Jerk.”
“Can’t help it if it’s true.”
“I haven’t been late for anything lately that you didn’t make me late for.”
“I don’t apologize for fucking you first on your birthday.” My hand slid from her waist to her ass and squeezed. “I was in control of the clock anyway.”
She flushed. “You just made everyone else wait, you mean?”
“Are you complaining?”
“Not in the least.” She winked. “I wasn’t complaining last night or this morning either.” Then, she slapped my ass and wrenched open the door to Boose.
I could do nothing but laugh at her. The weekend was already shaping up to be incredible. Starting with the hotel where, somehow, we’d gotten the same guy at the front desk. He even remembered that we’d had to share a room and offered an extra complimentary room since the rodeo wasn’t in town this weekend. We’d declined, and he’d blushed.
Then, we’d promptly had sex on every surface of the place. As incredible as the sex was, I still felt like I had to hold back with her. Like we were so close to me being able to release entirely, but there was something between us. A gap that I couldn’t bridge. I was hoping that meeting Bailey would be another piece of the puzzle that was Eve Houston.
I stepped through the door behind Eve and immediately stopped in my tracks. One thing I’d learned about both Lubbock and Midland was that the outside never matched the inside. Fancy restaurants could be hidden in strip malls, and apparently, dance halls with polished hardwood floors were hidden in run-down barns.
“Don’t know how to line dance, do you, sir?” Eve asked, her eyes glittering.
I just shot her a look. Of course I’d never line danced before. Did they even have line dancing in Seattle?
Boose was styled like an old-school saloon with a long wooden bar down one side, complete with red-cushioned stools and a large, open dance floor. The other side of the room was full of booths, where the restaurant served lunch and dinner. A sign overhead read,Boose: burgers, beer, and bops.
Eve tugged my sleeve as we headed toward a woman with her hair in a white bun, standing before an antique wooden stand. “Hi, Ellen. Lunch for three, please. We’re waiting on one more.”
“Well, Eve, is that you?” The woman pulled out three menus and rolled-up silverware.
“Yes, ma’am.” A hint of an accent came into her voice as soon as she spoke to this one.
“Love to see my local girls.”
She gestured for us to follow her, and we headed into the sea of booths.
“You still playing soccer? You always were a spitfire.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I glanced at her in question, and Eve just grinned.
“Ellen’s daddy opened Boose years ago. She knows everything about everyone.”
“Sure do,” Ellen agreed. “And you’re still in the big city?”
“Yep. Lubbock.”