CHAPTER 9
Just wing it. Life. Eyeliner. Everything.
-Trinket to Cannel
CANNEL
I held on to him like he was my lifeline.
Together, we rode through the almost deserted Texas streets until we got to the steak house, parked, and headed inside.
My eyes went to the name on the top of the doors. Tiddies.
My lips turned up in a smile, and I was just about to ask about the name, but then I realized that all the people we were passing were people that were trying to get into the restaurant. And there had to be at least fifty of them.
I hadn’t seen a line like that outside of a popular club since I was nineteen.
Just as we hit the front door, I looked down to see his hand clenched tight, and had a feeling I knew why that was.
Reaching forward tentatively, I curled my fingers around his much bigger ones, and waited.
He completely reversed the position and caught my hand up in his, letting me know instantly that I was correct in my assumptions.
He wanted to touch me but wouldn’t without my permission first.
Smile firmly planted on my face, I walked inside what looked like a saloon straight out of Gunslinger.
“Wow,” I said as I took a look around at all the rough attributes. “This place looks legit.”
“That’s because it is legit,” Will informed me. “This place used to literally be a saloon. It’s gotten some major overhauls, of course, but otherwise, has kept a lot of the original attributes. It was once boasted that it was the biggest, best saloon in Texas.”
I looked at him curiously. “How do you know this?”
His lips twitched. “I have a childhood friend. Her father is the one that owns it. Her name is Salem. She doesn’t live here anymore, but her father still runs this place. Told us all about it when we were young kids.”
He waved at the hostess and said, “Two.”
She nodded her head, ignored the line of customers that were practically wrapped around the corner of the building, and took us to our seats.
I raised a brow at him the moment she sat us in one of the best seats in the house.
“How nice,” I teased.
He winked. “I really like this place, or I would’ve suggested somewhere else. I don’t like using my name to get into places like this. It makes me look bad. But shit, I haven’t had it since I got back here, and I’ve been craving the chocolate cake.”
My brows rose to practically my hairline.
“You? Cake?” I teased, allowing my eyes to drag over him.
“Sweet tea for you, and I brought a water since I didn’t know your order.” The girl who seated us paused. “I guess I should’ve asked that. It makes more sense to do that than to go get his after seating you and coming back. What would you like?”
I thought about what I wanted, then settled with, “Do you have lemonade?”
“I have regular lemonade, diet lemonade, strawberry lemonade, and peach lemonade.” She flicked each item off with her fingers.
“I’ll take regular.” I smiled. “Thank you.”
Without waiting for anything from Will, she rushed back out.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“Salem’s sister, Banger,” he answered. “Salem moved to Tennessee to pursue her degree. Banger is, I think, eighteen this year. She’s ‘stuck at home’ doing stuff she ‘doesn’t want to do’ until she finishes school in May next year.”
My lips twitched. “I can’t say that I didn’t feel the same way when I was younger. My dad and mom own a barbeque restaurant. We all worked there at one point.”
“I love barbeque.” He sighed, about to say more, but Banger was back with my drink.
She set it down, then left without another word.
“She’s very…” I searched for the correct word.
A waitress that I hadn’t seen coming set a basket of rolls down and left before I could thank her. “Wow.”
“They’re going to be coming around like that all night,” he admitted. “This place is hopping.”
The place was loud, and the acoustics in it were terrible.
Everyone just spoke louder to be heard, and though it was nice, the food better be damn amazing, because I had a feeling I’d have a headache by the end of this date.
Just as I had that thought, a roll slathered in butter appeared in front of my face.
I blinked and reached for it, automatically taking a bite since it’d come from Will.
The moment the fluffy bread hit my taste buds, I moaned.
“It’s sweet!” I cried out.
I hadn’t expected sweet.
I’d expected regular bread and regular butter.
I didn’t get either.
I took another bite, my eyes all but rolling back in my head.
“Holy mother of God,” I groaned.
I closed my eyes and finished off the roll, each flavorful bite getting better than the last, until in the end, there was nothing left but the melted butter on my fingers.