He flung her a challenging look. “I’ve only been able to do it once. But I’m throwing down the gauntlet: One of us is leaving with a T-shirt… And we know who that is.”
Callie rolled her eyes. Peering down at the small paper napkin she’d put in her lap, certain it was insufficient in this instance, she slid her thumbs under the enormous sandwich, barely able to stretch her fingers around it to lift it to her mouth. She had no utensils, or she’d have cut it into eighths. Assessing the task at hand, she attempted to devise a strategy to get a bite that had bread, meat, cheese, bacon, lettuce, tomato, and onion without the condiments squirting all over Luke when she tried to eat it. With some effort, she managed to strategically squeeze the burger while widening her mouth to reach from top to bottom, and took a bite. Her mouth full, her cheeks like a chipmunk with its stash, she watched to see if Luke could be successful with his effort.
With entertainment clear on his face, he took a bite and chewed.
“It’s delicious,” she admitted, once she’d finally been able to swallow. She blotted her mouth with her napkin before washing the bite down with her drink. Then she turned to Luke and said, “I’ve so got this.”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “It’s bigger than you are. I think you’re bluffing to get me to eat all mine. I had an omelet this morning. I wasn’t prepared. You have to eat this on an empty stomach.”
“You’re just scared,” she said, trying to cover her grin with her game-face.
“Of you? Ha!” he said, but there was affection showing in his eyes. He liked this.
“I’m a force to be reckoned with,” she said as she took another bite, this one bigger than the last. After she swallowed, she added, “I may look small, but I’m feisty. And I don’t like to lose.” She squared her shoulders, the burger between both hands.
He smiled, an undecipherable look lingering on his face.
“What?”
“You have ketchup on your shirt.”
She looked down and saw, dripping toward her midsection, an enormous glop of red sauce. She was mortified. “That’s fine,” she said, acting unbothered. “I’ll have a new shirt to wear home anyway.”
He shook his head and took another bite.
“I’m so surprised I’ve never heard about this place,” she said as she blotted the sauce stain. But then again, it wasn’t the usual tourist location. It was hidden from the main road and she couldn’t see a single person she thought looked like a vacationer. Gladys probably wouldn’t have known about it since she didn’t go out to eat very much. She’d rather do the cooking herself.
There was a group of guys down the bar who seemed as though they’d just gotten off work—their feet bare, their work boots lined up under their chairs with a bag of tools nearby. They were laughing, their beers swinging between their fingers, their elbows on the bar. Another couple inside was talking to the waitress, and she recognized the woman from the bathroom. The waitress had pulled up a chair and was looking at baby pictures. From what Callie could tell, she knew the baby, calling it by name.
“I like it because it’s off the beaten path, and it has this view,” Luke said, throwing his thumb over his shoulder.
Callie turned around, holding her burger. The beach was completely secluded—not a soul out there except the silhouette of a sailboat in the distance. The white, powdery sand stretched, untainted, as far as she could see.
“The beach is private; it belongs to the owner of this restaurant.” Luke stood for a moment, gesturing for Callie to follow. She set her napkin on the bar and leaned forward with Luke to view a small home sitting in the sand beside the bar. “He lives right there.” Luke sat back down, wrapping his hand around his beer and lifting it to his lips. The breeze blew off the ocean, the sound of the waves mixing with the steel drum that was playing over the speakers. “Certain times of year, the beach is closed off. It’s a turtle breeding ground.”
Callie smiled at that. “I love animals.” She got comfortable again on her barstool, and took another bite of her burger. After she finished her bite, she asked, “Do you have any pets?”
“I wish I did, but I’m never home. I’d hate to have an animal waiting for me day in and day out when I could only show up in the evenings to give it any attention.”
She went in for another bite of burger.
“If I did have a pet, it would be a dog,” he said. “A beachside game of fetch might be tricky with a cat.”
She laughed. Here she was, a complete mess, eating a burger the size of a dinner plate, and talking like she’d known this guy for ages. The more she thought about it, the more it unnerved her. In a weird way, those awkward first dates, while annoying, comforted her—she hadn’t ever had to open up and she felt safe that way; it was like a learned formula of conversation. With Luke, she was in unfamiliar territory.
She looked down at her half-eaten burger, her tummy getting very full.
“Reconsidering your bravado now?” he laughed, his teasing light-hearted.
She nodded. “And I was so hoping for us to have matching T-shirts.”
“You’ve given it a good effort,” he said with a grin. “Would you believe, I brought my grandmother here and she almost finished one?”
“What?” Callie laughed. “I don’t know what’s more interesting: the fact that you took your grandmother to a burger shop or that she almost ate this whole thing!”
“She was a funny lady.” He wiped his hands on his napkin and took a swig of his beer. “She passed away at eighty-seven, and until then, she called me every day.”
“Really?” Callie thought about her own grandmother, and the empty spot still there without her. She had been the rock that had held Callie’s family together. Especially after her father left. Callie had so many memories of her; spending whole weekends at her house, taking long walks, baking—her grandmother had even started to show her how to knit, but Callie had never had a chance to practice with her, and she still couldn’t do it. Callie missed her terribly.
“Yep. She said that I couldn’t get into too much trouble if I had to answer to my grandmother every day. I enjoyed her calls,” he said with a chuckle, then took another few bites, following them with his beer. “When she passed away, my mom took over for her.”
“That’s really sweet. I wish my mom would call me more.” As the words left her mouth, she wanted to chase them and pull them back, in disbelief that she’d even uttered them, but she could relate to his comment so much. Her issue with her mother had always been the one thing she wished she could fix, but she just didn’t know how.
“That’s twice you’ve mentioned your mom.” He didn’t say anything else, and she wondered if he could sense her regret in uttering the comment. The breeze blew in, rustling a napkin by her plate. She set her drink down on it.
“I should probably go soon,” she said. “I have a lot of work to do on the house.”