Pleasant Surprises by Becky Melby

Author:Becky Melby
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2013-07-24T00:00:00+00:00

Eleven

“Tell me something I don’t know about you yet.” Angel cut a slice of butter-infused filet mignon as she asked.

“Well. . .did I tell you I’m doing my doctoral dissertation on the effects of Route 66 on our country?”

“No.”

“Well, I am.”

The waiter filled their water glasses for the third time.

“Now that’s the kind of history I could get interested in. I remember only one thing about it from school—the first McDonald’s was started in San Bernardino thanks to Route 66. I’m sure there were more significant contributions to our culture than burgers and fries.”

“But where would we be without Big Macs?”

Angel held up a forkful of baked potato mounded with sour cream. “For starters, heart disease wouldn’t be the leading cause of death in this country. Tell me something else.”

“Route 66 started here in Chicago and ended in Los Angeles. During the Depression, thousands of unemployed men got jobs on the road gangs.” Wade set his fork down. His eyes glittered. “And in the forties, it helped facilitate the single greatest wartime manpower mobilization in the history of the nation.”

“All because of a single road.” Angel took a moment just to stare. Wade Ramsey was created from a unique recipe. Gorgeous, intelligent, and not conceited about either. Handsome, humorous history nerd. What a combo. “Are you actually writing yet?”

“I’m doing research right now. And then I’m taking a road trip after school’s out.”

“That sounds so adventurous. I’d love to travel, but my business doesn’t make it easy.”

Wade’s lips pursed and twisted slightly to the right. “Are you feeling adventurous tonight?”

“Tonight?” What was he suggesting?

“Yeah. How’d you like to take a road trip back to Galena with me?”

❧

“Are you sure you should do this? On your first date?” Pug stood in the doorway pointing with her toothbrush toward the pajamas, socks, and underwear stacked on Angel’s bed.

“We’re going to a Sunday afternoon picnic, not eloping. Besides, I can get my truck and Sunny.”

“What if he doesn’t take you to your mom’s tonight? What if you end up in some dark alley?”

“Then I’ll be a statistic.” Angel laid two blouses on the flowered spread. “Which one will impress his colleagues and hide the muffin top?” She pinched the rolls above her hips.

“That one.” The toothbrush indicated the sage green faux suede instead of the swirly rose-colored print. “With your black pants. And boots.”

Angel took the green blouse off the hanger and folded it.

“Can I have the other one if you end up a statistic? It looks good with my hair.”

“It’s all yours.”

Pug sat down cross-legged on the bed. “Even for you, this is. . .impetuous.”

“I know.” Angel threw her makeup bag on top of her high-heeled boots. “Isn’t it wonderful? The guy makes me feel. . .a little ditsy. Or dizzy. . .or something that isn’t me.”

“Don’t check your brains at the brown eyes, girlfriend.”

“I’m not. Really. I don’t even know if he’s my type.” Did it count as a lie if she knew that Pug knew that she knew it wasn’t true? “And he’s too cute to be seriously interested in a chubette like me.

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