Page 18 of Wilde Hearts

Why, oh why, can’t I be in love with him? Why?

If I opened my mouth to speak, I was positive I would start crying, so I simply nodded.

“I know a place we can go. It’s low-key, but they have the best pizza and local beer.”

“Yes, beer. That sounds good.”

We drove to a little dive pizza place on the other side of town from the hotel. Neither of us spoke on the way there, which I was glad about. I needed a few minutes to gather my wits. First from seeing Colt—again—and then after the damn elevator stopping like that. I was legit about to freak out.

Once we got inside Lou’s Pizza, I was pleasantly surprised by how nice it was.

“I’ve never been here before.”

Doug chuckled. “Probably because it looks like a hole in the wall. This place is Granby’s best-kept secret. The tourists haven’t even stumbled on it, and the locals keep it pretty close to their chests.”

We slid into a booth, and a waitress was right there with two menus.

“What can I get you to drink?” she asked with a bright, friendly smile.

“Do you have whiskey?” I asked.

She laughed—then quickly said, “Oh, you’re serious.”

I nodded.

“Um, no, we just have beer.”

“I’ll take whatever’s your most popular craft beer.”

Doug smiled at the waitress. “I’ll have the same.”

“Sure thing. I’ll let you look at the menu while I go get these.”

Once she walked off, I sat back in the booth. The tightness in my chest had been present ever since I’d turned to see Colt in Jacob’s hospital room, and it hadn’t eased up at all.

“I have to ask again. Are you okay, Ensley?”

I could feel the damn tears pricking the back of my eyes. I swore I would never cry for Colt Owens again, but here I was, on the verge of doing just that.

Clearing my throat, I whispered, “Not really.”

“I take it you had no idea he’d be here.”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure why I thought he wouldn’t. It’s his father. I still wasn’t prepared to see him, though.” Glancing at the menu, I drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out before asking, “So, what’s good here?”

“If you’re in the mood for pizza, the spelunker is my favorite. Their fettuccine alfredo is my favorite dish overall, though.”

My stomach was too upset for something heavy, even if the alfredo sounded amazing.

“As good as fettuccine sounds, I think my stomach needs something lighter.”

Doug went back to looking at the menu.

Our waitress returned with the beer and two waters.

“Are we ready to order?”

Doug looked at me, and I nodded. “I’m ready.”