Page 21 of Great White
Nearly six hours later, and a completely different route toward home, we finally stop somewhere in the middle of New Mexico for some dinner and rest.
“I don’t know how people drive cross country.” I scurry out of the truck desperate for room. For wide open space, and fresh air.
“I don’t know. Sounds kind of fun to me.” Tate stretches his arms over his head.
“Of course, it does.” I breeze past him in the direction of the restaurant that has an outdoor deck for dining. Tacos and tequila. That’s exactly what I need.
The hostess seats us way in the corner. The décor is simple and quaint, with colorful lights strung around the perimeter of the deck, and vibrantly woven runners with tassels hanging off the edges of each table. The smell in the air is completely divine. Or maybe I’m just famished, but the scent of beef, onions, and garlic traveling on the breeze has me unintentionally licking my lips. And Tate notices.
I pick up the large menu and hide my face. I’m not interested in engaging in conversation about my lips. Or any other part of my body.
The waitress is quick to take our drink orders. A margarita for me and a beer and shot for Tate.
The temperature is warm, but the mild breeze brings a comfortable reprieve.
“Carne adovada for me.” Tate drums on the table after he makes his announcement. “I hope it's good. My abuela used to make a mean one.”
I drop my menu to look at him. “You had an abuela?”
“Yup, and a nana. I know what you’re thinking.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m too white-looking to be Spanish. Don't worry. I get it all the time. I kind of enjoy it. Seeing the reaction on people’s faces when I bang out someEspañol.”
“I overheard you and Stefania talking when you first met. What were you saying?”
Tate looks intrigued. “You were eavesdropping? Traviesa.”
Naughty.
“It’s my job to eavesdrop. It’s my job to be the eyes and ears of the whole operation.”
The waitress appears with our drinks finally. She wasn’t as swift with bringing them as she was with taking our order.
“That seems like a lot of responsibility.” His tone is flippant.
“It is.”
“Ready to order?” the young girl asks brightly. Tate goes with his Carne adovada. I stick with what I know, street tacos sans onions.
“Do you think this is some game we play?” I hiss when the waitress is gone.
“No, of course not. I just try not to take life too seriously. I know it can be over at any moment.”
“If you’re not careful, it can be over sooner than that. You make me nervous.”
“Nervous?” He pauses with the beer bottle a few inches from his lips. “Nervous like butterflies in your stomach and sweaty palms nervous?”
“No, nervous like your stupidity is going to get me killed.”
“Oh.” He’s visibly disappointed.
“You don’t have anything to be worried about. I’d die before I let anything happen to you.” His look is poignant. “That’s my job. Proteger a las leonas. That’s what I told Stefania.”
“What does that mean?”
“We’re gonna work on your Spanish,La Tiburona.” He swallows a mouthful of beer. “Protect the lionesses. How can you be the eyes and ears if you don’t know what everyone is saying?”
