Ways to Go (Taking Chances Book 3) by Katrina Marie

Author:Katrina Marie [Marie, Katrina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-18T16:00:00+00:00

Going to the park to see Layla gave me an idea for this date with Charleigh. Yep, we are going on a picnic. It’s nothing fancy. I picked up a few things to make sandwiches on my way to pick her up. I’m not trying to wow her this time. I want to get to know her.

We arrive at White Rock Lake, and I pull the blanket I brought from the back seat. Jumping out of the truck, I rush around to the passenger side to open the door for Charleigh.

“We aren’t doing any outdoorsy activity, are we?” She asks while stepping down.

“Nope. We’re going to have lunch right over there under that tree.”

I picked this place because it’s kind of close to her apartment, and because it has trees. Shade is a must today. It’s barely after lunch and already the heat has me melting. Maybe coming to the park during summer wasn’t my best plan. But I didn’t want to be in a restaurant where we would have to compete with the everyday chatter just to hear each other.

Pulling the ice chest out of the bed of my truck I almost drop everything else in my hands. Charleigh rushes over, trying to take the ice chest from me. “I’ve got it,” I say.

She leans back, crosses her arms over her chest, and arches one eyebrow. How in the hell do people do that? I’m going to have to practice that move. “Obviously,” she deadpans, pointing at the blanket dragging at my feet.

I drop the ice chest to the ground. “Fine, you can carry the blanket and my keys.”

“I thought you didn’t need any help,” she teases.

“Smart ass,” I murmur under my breath.

“I heard that,” she calls back. “Better to be a smart ass than a dumbass.”

Women…how is it they can hear everything you mutter? As soon as we get under the branches of the tree, I let the ice chest plop to the ground. I think one bag of ice would have been enough. It definitely would have this thing a hell of a lot lighter.

Charleigh lifts the lid, moving things around, looking to see what all I’ve packed.

“I’m perfectly capable of putting together a picnic, you know.”

“I can see that,” she smirks. She begins putting together a couple of sandwiches for us, not giving me a chance to intervene. She also doesn’t ask what I like on mine. When she squirts a ginormous amount of mustard onto my bread, I cringe. I’m a mayo type of guy. But when she hands me sandwich, I don’t make a big deal about it. I take a huge bite, doing my best to swallow without making a face.

But she sees right through it. “You’re one of those weirdos that doesn’t like mustard, aren’t you?”

“Nah, I love it.”

“Dude, you look like your about to puke.” She’s laughing at me.

“I’m going to finish this sandwich because you made it. Mustard be damned.” My smile is wide, and I know my cheeks are puffed out because of course I’m mid chew when I make the proclamation.

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