2
" Jules's eyes begin to close, and her head slowly descends to the table. "Is she okay, Lyns?" I ask, pointing at the bizarre sight.
"She's fine," Lynsey replies, waving me off as she asks Kate for the eighty-seventh time how many Mason jars she needs to paint for the centerpieces.
"She doesn't look fine," I add as Julianna's forehead rests on the table.
Lynsey stops talking long enough to pull Julianna's head up. She holds her hand in front of her mouth and nods. "She's breathing, she's fine. It's just a sugar crash. It happens."
My head jerks back because Julianna's eyes are slightly rolled back into her head, and that does not look normal. Suddenly, Julianna comes to. "Mo dony!" she bellows, and her tiny finger reaches out to press down on a stray sprinkle on the table. She puts the sweet into her mouth before lowering her head and falling fast asleep again.
Fuck me, that was a disturbing sight. I've never been gladder not to have kids. "
― Amy Daws , Take a Number (Wait With Me, #4)
3
" I attempt to chew the popcorn gag Dean just stuffed into my mouth, but a kernel gets sucked into the back of my throat. I hack over the bar--my hands splayed wide as I brace myself for impending death. Dean absentmindedly pat mys back because let's face it, I'm coughing so I'm breathing, but his swats are not helping. I beat my chest to try to prevent myself from asphyxiating as I grapple for my drink, which is woefully empty.
I grab Dean's draft beer, but as soon as the golden liquid hits my tongue, I dry heave from the horrid taste. Holy shit! Kate's right, IPA beer tastes like poison! My face screws up in disgust as I force the liquid down my throat and suck in a big breath of cleansing air. With a pathetic whimper, I wave my hands in front of my face and search for a cocktail napkin. Mr. Mustache bartender is still balls deep in the blonde, so I'm forced to use the back of my hand to wipe the dribble off my chin.
When I finally regain some semblance of composure I turn around to glower at Dean. "Your beer tastes like a skunk's ass. "
― Amy Daws , One Moment Please (Wait With Me, #3)
15
" I glance up and nearly squeal in shock as the same hunky mechanic stares down at me.
How did he see me back here? This spot is super secluded, and no one ever sits here.
“Can I help you?” I ask, pulling my earbuds out and taking in the broad width of his shoulders. Today, Mr. Book Boyfriend is wearing blue jeans and a black, fitted Tire Depot T-shirt. He’s much cleaner than he was yesterday in his dirty coveralls that made me reconsider the profession of my current book hero.
“You’re back,” he states knowingly, his stunning blue eyes drinking in my yoga pants, T-shirt, and a baseball cap.
“I, um…had an issue with one of my tires. The guys are fixing it.”
“Which guys?” he asks, crossing his tan, sculpted arms over his chest. I have to crane my neck back completely to even reach his face he’s so tall.
“I’m not really sure.”
“Okay, well, which car?” he inquires, running a hand through his trim black hair. Damn, he’s really got that tall, dark, and handsome thing down to a T. He looks almost Mediterranean. Le swoon!
I swallow slowly. “Um…I drive a Cadillac SRX.”
“A Cadillac?” He barks out a small laugh. “Isn’t that kind of an old lady car?”
My brows furrow. “It’s not an old lady car. It’s a luxury SUV. It’s wonderful. I have heating and cooling seats.”
“Well, if you have that kind of money to spend on a vehicle, you should look at a Lexus or a BMW. Much more sexy feel to the body. You’d look pretty damn hot driving a Lexus LX.”
“Maybe I’m not trying to look hot. Maybe I like looking like an old lady.” That was a really unhot thing to say, but Book Boyfriend booms with laughter and squats down next to me. "
― Amy Daws , Wait With Me (Wait With Me, #1)
16
" I mean…sure, my guilty conscience poked at me a few times, but the more I went, the easier it got. America’s greatest serial killers probably lived by this same mantra. But so be it.
Give me complimentary coffee or give me death.
The CCC had become my Luke’s Diner. I was Lorelai Gilmore waltzing in every day, and that little, nonverbal, automated coffee machine was the grumpy diner owner that I was slowly falling in love with. And now I’ve met Betty, the baker of the goods and direct cause of my poor diet these past few weeks.
But love is a wild creature. You can’t contain it or control it. You can’t break it and tell it no. It’s a charging animal that you must accept as your destiny.
That is how I feel about the Tire Depot CCC: true, unadulterated love. "
― Amy Daws , Wait With Me (Wait With Me, #1)
17
" Me: You fucking whore.
Hannah: What?
Me: You know what. This pizza!
Hannah: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Me: Your name is on the receipt.
Hannah: CRAP! I thought it’d take you at least ten minutes to figure out it was me.
Me: Yeah, crap! I am fucking mortified, you idiot. I’m trying to keep a low profile, but that delivery guy probably had to go talk to the guys at the counter to figure out where I was. I am humiliated, and you are the worst! Don’t you have your own book to write? How do you have time for this?
Hannah: I’m shaking so hard with laughter, it’s difficult to type.
Me: I had my earbuds in, so I didn’t hear him calling my name. He listed off the food you bought for a football team and then handed it all to me—the chubby ginger creeping in the corner. Goddamn you!
Hannah: Is it good, though? I got you extra dipping sauces for those parm breadsticks. That cost extra, you know. I ain’t cheap.
Me: I can’t eat it because my mortification has killed my appetite! But…this does give me an excuse to try out the fountain pop machine, so…silver lining.
Hannah: My eyes are wet from laughing so hard.
Me: Yuck it up, yucky yuckerson. God, I was in the middle of writing an anal scene, so I was super in the zone too…it’s no wonder I didn’t hear him.
Hannah: STOP. MY STOMACH IS KILLING ME…ON ACCOUNT OF ALL THE LAUGHING.
Me: Well played, whore. Well played. And it’s the burn that keeps on burning b/c my inner cheap girl will NOT let me throw these leftovers away. So I’m going to have to carry them out of here.
Hannah: Oh, I was counting on that. Want to hear something horrible?
Me: What?
Hannah: I was going to do a sub delivery, but then I decided the pizza boxes were more embarrassing.
Me: You’re dead to me.
Fifteen minutes later.
Hannah: So I’ve been picturing you sulking and refusing to eat for the past fifteen minutes and then finally giving up and eating it anyway. Am I close?
Me: OMG, it’s like you’re here with me. That’s exactly what I did. This food is delicious btw. But I’m still not thankful.
Hannah: But you’re always welcome. ;) Best $53 I ever spent. "
― Amy Daws , Wait With Me (Wait With Me, #1)