Page 67 of Nuts

From the opening word, I began to sing along quietly. After a few seconds, Percy joined in. We both grinned, singing word for word as we gazed at each other.

The waitress slid the plates in front of us. It didn’t stop us from singing.

Percy gave her a nod.

“Cutest couple I’ve seen in a long time.” She smiled. “Enjoy.”

When the song ended, we reached for our plates. As the other two played, we ate our breakfast.

“You’re an old soul.” He pushed his plate to the side and reached for his coffee. “I like that about you.”

I folded my toast in two and poked it in my mouth. “I pretty much like everything about you. So far, anyway.”

He shook his head. “Got a question for you.”

I took a drink of coffee. “Okay.”

“When we get back from this trip, would you consider going out?”

I had no idea what he was talking about. I wrinkled my nose and stared back at him. “What do you mean?”

“Go out,” he said.

“Huh?”

“You’re making this tougher than it ought to be.” He let out a sigh. “I want to take you on a date. I’m asking you if you’d consider going out with me. On a date.”

Holy cow.

My throat went dry.

I had no idea what a woman felt when a man asked her to marry him. At least not until that moment. My guess was that what I felt was identical. It had to be.

I picked my jaw up from the floor and calmly took a sip of my tepid coffee. “A date? Like, you and me going out on a date? A real date?”

He nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.”

All my years of desire had somehow come to fruition. I was shaking from the excitement of it all, but clenched the coffee cup tightly in my hands to mask it.

I met his wondrous gaze, offered him a smile, and gave the only answer I could.

“I’d love to.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

P-Nut

Axton Bishop looked like an old-school biker from yesteryear. His face was deeply tanned from years of riding, his brown hair was littered with gray, and his hands were covered in more scars than most other bikers I knew.

A half hour south of Wichita, in a town I’d never heard of, the three of us were seated at an office in the back of his clubhouse. He took a moment to digest the death of a mother he’d never really known, and then looked up.

He folded his massive arms over his chest and met Smudge’s gaze. “Died, huh? I’ll be damned. Like I said a minute ago, I never really knew her. She left when I was a kid. Ol’ Man was a violent prick, so I can’t say as I blame her.”

“I’m sorry,” Smudge said.

“Don’t be,” he said. “It’s nobody’s fault. Part of the journey. Happens to the best of us.”

“Your pop rode with the red and white?” I asked.