Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“Have you had an authentic Louisiana po’boy?” he asked as he peered into a paper sack.
“No, but I’ve heard of it. It’s a sandwich, right?”
“Yep.” He handed me a large bundle wrapped in white paper.
“What’s in them?”
“Lots of things,” he said as he unwrapped his own sandwich. “Crawfish, rabbit, alligator … but yours is roast beef.” He gave me a wink.
“Thank god.”
“You enjoyed the crawfish etouffee yesterday.”
“But that’s because I didn't let myself think too much about what was in it.”
“Fair enough.” He smoothed out the bag and set a large order of fries between us, making sure it was near enough that I wouldn’t have to stretch. He took a big bite of his sandwich and briefly closed his eyes. “Delicious.”
“What’s yours?”
“Catfish.”
My sandwich was indeed roast beef, but I wasn’t sure what the sauce was. It was drippy enough that I suspected it would soon be all over my blouse, but it smelled good. And the French bread was nice and soft. I took a tentative bite and then coughed. When I caught my breath, I looked at him through watery eyes. “You all sure like your spices down here.”
“We do indeed.”
We were silent for a few minutes as we ate. The view was gorgeous with the blue water. Lake Boise was bigger than I was expecting. Somehow, I’d figured that a small town must have a small lake, but it was pretty substantial.
There were some sailboats in the water, and what I assumed were fishing boats along the shore. “It’s really pretty here. And peaceful.”
Raphael nodded with a smile on his face. “I think so, too. The lake can get pretty crowded in the summer. Sometimes a boat full of drunks will crash into another boat full of drunks. But I like it on winter days like today.”
I nearly snorted. “This sure doesn’t seem much like winter to me.”
His eyes were amused as he looked my way. “I suppose it’s not much like what you’re used to.”
My sandwich was still making my eyes water, but it was quite good. I was glad he’d chosen roast beef for me instead of something less familiar. But the beef was prepared in a way that was decidedly different than what I was used to, and the heat … the heat could probably keep me warm on a winter day back home.
Raphael’s gaze was on the lake, which gave me a chance to examine him. There was something so calming about him. He was good looking, yes, but also… kind of Zen. I didn’t think I’d ever used that word to describe someone, but it suited him. It felt like a great white shark could leap out of the lake, fin its way over here, and try to take a chomp out of him, and he’d respond with a quiet sense of fascination.
His dark brown hair swayed gently in the breeze. His tan-colored pants were a bit wrinkled, but his beard was immaculately trimmed. His hoody sweatshirt was light gray and looked like it had been thrown on at random over his t-shirt. But it suited him.
He had a sort of stillness to him that was immensely comforting. Even now, he had one knee bent and one leg dangling down, looking lost in thought as he took in the view. He was fit, that much was certain from the way he’d carried me to the truck today, but his muscles were more lanky and wiry. They weren’t as bulky as Spencer’s, but they gave Raphael a quiet strength.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
Oh crap. He’d looked over while I was staring at his legs. Obviously, I would have to be more careful about that kind of thing. “Why did they name the town Lake Boise?”
The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “Because it’s on the banks of Lake Boise.” His pronunciation was a little different than what I’d been saying.
That made me laugh. “I mean, why Boise? Isn’t that in Idaho?”
“Yes, but it’s a French word. It means wooded. I’d say that fits, doesn’t it?”
“Definitely. I love the trees here. So tall and stately with all that hanging moss.”
“The trees are good for climbing, too, but I’d recommend you leave that one on your bucket list for a while longer.”
“Agreed.” I sampled some French fries. They were beer-battered and delicious. “Did you climb trees when you were a kid?”
He nodded. “My sister and I both did. We spent our entire summers outside, from morning until night. I doubt there’s a tree in the woods behind the house we haven’t been to the top of.”
“Sounds like an idyllic childhood.”
“It was. I wish things were as simple for Charlotte and Lucas.” Raphael looked out onto the lake again.
“Haven’t you taught them to climb trees?”
His tan face broke into a smile. “Yes. They’re like little monkeys when they scramble up the branches. But their childhoods aren’t quite as carefree as I remember mine being.”