Page 20 of Steady Stroke
Emmett did stop walking that time, right in the middle of the parking lot. “Um, okay. Yes, lunch sounds good. I’m thirsty too.”
“I bet. Your jeans make me even hotter just looking at them.”
Emmett’s full-face-and-neck blush clued Lincoln in to how that had sounded.
“I mean, because it’s hot out,” Lincoln stuttered. “Not, ah, because I was checking you out in them. You look hot. I mean, overheated.” He wasn’t fixing this. “Can we forget I said anything?”
After a brief moment of them staring at each other, Emmett started laughing. “I think you stumbling for words is the funniest thing I’ve seen in months.”
Lincoln huffed and pretended to be insulted. “Gee, thanks.”
“And it’s okay, I didn’t think you were flirting with me.”
Then what was with the full-on blush?He didn’t ask, though, because getting out of the way of an SUV full of teenagers trying to park became first priority.
They made it back to Emmett’s borrowed car before either of them spoke again.
“So for lunch,” Lincoln said. “How about we leave the car and walk. Try to discover a place together. Something local, not a chain.”
Emmett’s bright smile hit him right in the feels. It chasedaway the shadows that always seemed to lurk right beneath the surface.
They joined the crowd moving up and down the sidewalk that ran parallel to the main drag, sticking close together in the throng. Lincoln didn’t mind when Emmett’s arm brushed his, or when he had to walk behind Emmett, close to him so they didn’t get separated. He didn’t know if Emmett’s anxiety issues manifested in panic attacks, and while he’d worked Dominic through a few in the distant past, he had a funny feeling that Emmett would be incredibly embarrassed to melt down in public.
Their trek south also gave Lincoln a chance to subtly observe Emmett—the way he kept his head angled down and worked hard to avoid making eye contact with anyone. He didn’t check out others, boys or girls. He simply walked, his entire goal to get from point A to point B with as little fuss as possible.
The reasons for that poked at Lincoln’s curiosity. He wanted to know more about what made Emmett tick.
He wanted to know who he might need to beat up on his new friend’s behalf.
“How about here?” Emmett said after four blocks. He stepped into the parking lot of a seafood restaurant that advertised crab-cake sliders in its front window, along with local brews on tap. They were slightly past the lunchtime rush, so the place didn’t look totally packed. No line out the door.
“Looks like a winner.” Lincoln put his shirt back on before he held the door open for Emmett and nearly melted under the blast of air-conditioning that instantly turned his sweaty body cold.
Emmett walked into a quirky place that was festooned with crab nets, fake plastic fish, and anchors and smelled pleasantly of Old Bay and grease. A hostess wearing an eye patch asked ifthey wanted the bar or a booth. Lincoln didn’t want the world at his back, so he picked booth.
She led them into a tightly packed section of booths and tables, to an empty one near the entrance to the bathrooms. Lincoln sat facing the door, with Emmett across from him. He didn’t have a chance to glance at the menu before a server plunked down two glasses of iced water. Her shirt made Lincoln laugh.
A skin-toned T-shirt with a printed image of a coconut shell bra.
Classy.
“Can I get you guys started with drinks?” she asked.
Since Lincoln was on the outs with beer at the moment, he said, “The water is perfect, thanks.”
“Can I get a Sprite, please?” Emmett asked.
“Sure thing, doll. Be right back.”
“So you a big seafood fan?” Lincoln asked once they were alone. Or as alone as they were likely to get in a crowded restaurant.
“My family didn’t eat it much growing up, but yes. I like trying new things.” Emmett’s entire face dropped as a cloud of sadness descended over the table.
Something about the instant change at the mention of his family told Lincoln that there was a tragic story in there somewhere. Maybe a story that helped explain his anxiety issues.
He couldn’t make himself ask, though. Not in public. “The fringe benefit of being an adult is eating whatever we want, whenever we want, right?”
Emmett’s lips tried to twitch into a smile. “Right.”
