Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 145676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Because he didn’t want to hear about Lee, Landon’s claws came out and he verbally swiped at the chef’s ability. “Can’t be as good as the enchiladas from South Texas.”
Guilt sat on him like a wet blanket. What the fuck was wrong with him? Jealousy was an ass move. He wanted to take back the words. “That was—”
Robert playfully lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I have no point of reference so I can’t say, but my friends like them. Also, the pork ribs are good. I have eaten those but have no real frame of reference compared to Texas where I hear food has some serious flavor.”
“I might just have to try the enchiladas. I don’t think it’s right to eat meat in front of you,” Landon said then lowered his gaze back to the meatless options. “I like enchiladas, but I’m not sure I’m in the mood for Mexican.”
That caused a bark of laughter, very clearly pointed directly at him. “You didn’t have a problem eating meat in front of me in Germany. Besides, I don’t care what you eat. You know my family’s history. When you’re working on diseased hearts and see the cause of so many…” A giant grin broke out across Robert’s face. “I’m teasing you. Seriously, please order what you want. I don’t miss meat.”
“Here you go. Are you ready to order?” the woman asked, placing both beers on the table.
“Have you had enough time?” Robert asked, giving an encouraging head nod toward the menu.
He hesitated, but finally gave. “Yeah, how about the all-American burger with no cheese and fries.”
“How do you want it cooked?” she asked, without writing anything down.
“Let’s do medium…” He looked at Robert who slightly lifted his brows. “Or medium-well. Maybe change the French fries to coleslaw.” Healthier, right? He didn’t really question why he wanted to make Robert more comfortable. Maybe he should have gone with the squash deal in the meatless section. What the hell was spaghetti squash anyway?
He was in over his head with this man sitting across from him. The only refined man in his life was his uncle, and he wasn’t nearly as well put together as Robert. Landon reached for his beer and tipped the bottle back, taking several gulps for nothing more than liquid courage.
Robert sounded so poised as he ordered then handed over their menus and stared straight at him. The waitress left, and they were alone again. He pushed down the urge to squirm under Robert’s intense gaze. Their silence was deafening and awkward as hell. He didn’t know what to say.
“Did you listen to anymore of George R.R. Martin?” Robert asked.
“That was too nice of a gift. I shouldn’t have accepted it,” he said, shaking his head. He had used the hell out of the e-reader, but he hadn’t touched the gift card, feeling like he should give it to someone who needed it.
“That doesn’t answer the question.” The lilt in Robert’s voice implied he was teasing.
“I told your sister it was too much. You shouldn’t have. I told her you were too hardheaded to accept no,” Landon continued to explain.
“You’ve talked to my sister?” Maybe the first sign of real emotion he saw on Robert’s face. His eyebrow shot up and his head tilted to the side.
“Yeah. She messages me about once a week.”
Robert’s body language changed as he shifted positions.
“She’s amazing. You two are very much alike.” Landon felt like he was suddenly under the microscope, he just wasn’t sure why.
“You’ve been talking to Autumn?” Robert asked again as if Landon hadn’t answered that very question seconds ago.
“Yeah.” Silence descended between them again. Landon lifted the beer bottle and took a couple more gulps. He wasn’t normally tongue-tied. He’d been told a time or two that he was charming, but none of that mattered now. Robert made him insecure as hell, and he wasn’t sure why he let it bother him this much. “She messages me every Sunday evening—well, the last four Sundays in a row—pretty much like clockwork. It starts a conversation that lasts a few days.”
“What does she say?” Robert asked, his expression becoming hard to read. The doctor’s upper lip kicked up in the corner as he reached for his cell phone in his back pocket.
“She just talks. She checks in. Is that bad?” he asked.
“No, of course not. You aren’t talking to me, like you talk to her, but it’s fine. She’s very encouraging where you’re concerned. I’m glad she’s getting to know you. You’ll like her.” Robert’s thumbs moved quickly over the keypad on his phone. Landon raised up slightly, leaning over the table, trying to see what Robert was typing, but the angle wasn’t right, and he kept the phone hidden from his sight. “Did you tell her we were having dinner?”