Page 75 of Special Delivery

Paige

The scent of stale beer permeates my nostrils as soon as we enter. Classic rock music fills the air, along with the low chatter of people filling the booths.

“Tim, my man. How are you?” Ryan tips his chin toward the bartender with a thick, long beard and dark eyes.

“Doing good. What can I get you two?” He places his hands on the wooden bar weathered with marks showing how long this place has served its clientele. A massive anchor hangs from above, its thin cord doing little to spark confidence.

Ryan turns to me. “Do you trust me?”

Puzzled, I nod, hoping I haven’t made the wrong decision.

“Two burgers with the works and two beers.” He lifts two fingers in the air before taking my hand and leading me to an empty booth.

He greets the people in the booth next to us, and I quickly retract my hand. This is a friendly outing. Not a date. Even though my lady parts haven’t gotten the memo. They’ve been pulsing since the moment he entered my car, his sharp, masculine scent washing over the small space. The gray t-shirt clinging to his muscles and the dark blue backwards cap certainly hadn’t helped. It was lucky we got to our destination safely, considering my head was swimming with his presence.

He drops into the booth, patting a spot next to him, but I leave some distance between us. We’re in public, after all.

“Is there a story to this place?” I ask.

“Nothing dramatic. But since most of the newly decorated bars are crowded with tourists for the better part of the year, this place has become a refuge for us locals. Sorry, I know you prefer wine, but that’s one thing this place lacks—wine worth drinking.”

“Thank you for looking out for me, then.”

With Bradley, I was used to him ordering what he wanted to eat or drink and expecting me to play along. I don’t think he even knew I preferred white wine after four years of dating. Knowing Ryan thought about my preferences tugs at a string in my heart, one I thought was long forgotten.

“I’m assuming the food is better than the wine?”

He huffs out a laugh, showing his perfectly straight, white teeth. “Much better. Their burgers are out of this world.”

The bearded bartender approaches us, then, carrying two plates and two beer glasses overflowing with beer. He drops the items onto our table with a thud, tipping his head at us. “Enjoy.”

The burger is easily the size of my head, so I grab it with both hands, hoping all the fillings stay inside. Biting into it, I let out a loud groan, and Ryan smirks at me.

“Good?”

“So good,” I respond, licking the excess ketchup off the side of my mouth.

“Told you.” He winks before digging into his own burger.

The second bite is even better, and so are the third and the fourth. I can’t put a finger on why it’s so good, it just is. “This reminds me of a hole-in-the-wall restaurant I went to in Spain. It looked like shit, absolute shit. A part of me was ready to walk out with food poisoning, but it turned out to be the best paella I’ve ever had. It was so good we went again the next day.”

He looks at me with wide, interested eyes and turned up lips, something I’m not accustomed to. “Spain? Was that your favorite place you visited?”

“No.” I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “Spain is beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but we mostly visited the cities, and I prefer nature.”

“What’s your dream destination?”

“Peru.” My lips twitch with a smile. “I actually already had the ticket before…” Breath catches in my throat. “Well, before it fell through.”

His intent gaze focuses on me for an uncomfortable second, but he doesn’t pry further. Thank God. How did I come so close to blurting out everything that happened?

It took me months to convince Bradley we should go to Peru. Unlike me, he preferred traveling to posh European cities. I’d feel like an immature little girl when he’d explain how there are no museums in the jungle.

Since he was older and a professor at my college, I’d believe him. He used to tell me how my undeniable writing talent needed actual inspiration, and he knew just the place where I could find it. I later realized the real reason for it. It was much easier to convince his wife he had a conference to attend in fancy cities than in the places I suggested. My bags were already packed, ready to leave for my dream place with my boyfriend. Then I found out he was married.

I swallow around the lump in my throat, pushing back the shame and the tears. What would Ryan say if he knew? Would he blame me? I didn’t know, but that doesn’t really matter, does it? I still almost ruined a little girl’s family.

He finishes his burger and, while I’m sure he notices the pregnant pause, he doesn’t push me to share. Instead, he wipes his hands, dropping the napkin onto his empty place. “I’ve heard great things about Peru.”