Page 24 of Floored (Frenched 3)
“No. I told her I was tired, and then she ran into friends on their way to The Sugar House, so she decided to hang with them tonight.”
“You lied to your date? Officer Dwyer, I’m appalled at this misconduct.”
He shrugged. “She bugs me. And I kept thinking about you here alone, working. Didn’t sit right with me, with all that’s been going on.”
“So you wanted to make sure I was safe?”
“I guess so. Yeah.”
“How nice of you.”
“I know.” He shook his head in disbelief. “What’s with that?”
I slugged him gently on the shoulder with my 2 x 4. “So what did you bring me? I’m hungry.”
“Burger and fries. Some Irish stout.”
“You’re speaking my language, Officer Dwyer. We can add burgers to the list.”
He handed me the food and beer. “Let me go grab some tools from my car so I can help you. Be right back.”
We cracked open two beers, and while I ate, Charlie got to work tearing out floorboards. He was much faster at it than I was, and had another quarter of it done within about twenty minutes. Pretty soon there was nothing but a three foot strip along the back of the room. “Take a b
reak.” I opened another beer for him and held it out. “Come sit. Watch your head on the barre.”
He tossed his hammer into his tool box and dropped down next to me, ducking under the barre to lean back against the wall.
I watched his mouth on the lip of the bottle. “Thanks for helping me tonight. You’re much faster at this than me.”
“I can see that.” He elbowed me. “You’re welcome. How was the burger?”
“Delicious.”
He glanced down at the bag on the floor, where I’d discarded some toppings, and frowned. “You took off all the good stuff.”
“No, I didn’t. I took off the onion, lettuce, and tomato.”
“Why?”
“Because salad does not belong on top of a burger. It goes on the side.”
He looked sideways at me. “Wait a minute. Are you one of those people who doesn’t like her food to touch?”
I lifted my shoulders. “Not really.”
Confession: I’m one of those people who doesn’t like her food to touch.
He groaned. “You are, aren’t you? Figures.” Bringing his beer to his mouth again, he took a long swallow.
“Hey listen. I’m very appreciative of the burger and the help. Can we leave it at that and not argue, please?”
“I’m not arguing. I’m making fun of you.”
I gave him a dirty look, and he laughed.
“OK, sorry. I won’t do it anymore, even though you make it so easy.” He nudged my leg with his. “I liked your class tonight. You’re a good teacher.”
Swallowing, I placed my palm on my chest. “Was that an actual compliment? My heart’s all aflutter!”
