Under Her Clothes (Completed)

Chapter 7

Hi!  I wrote three more chapters this weekend.  I'll upload them over the next couple of days if I can wait.  I also tried to make salted caramel cupcakes this weekend.  That didn't go as planned.  BUT I found out I can make homemade caramel sauce with the best of 'em.  So that's something. 

Katy

Anna was waiting in the back of the restaurant when I got there.  She was already munching on a piece of bread and from the shiny look of her lips, she’d added lots of butter.  The guilty expression she wore on her face was also a dead giveaway.

“Don’t judge me!  You stressed me out.  I had to eat it.”

I plopped into my seat and sighed.  “Anna.  I bake cupcakes all day long with real butter and full fat buttermilk.  I’m not going to judge you for putting butter on your bread.  Hell, I’ll do the same.  Just to be sure you don’t feel awful about yourself.”

She laughed.  “You’re so full of shit.  Like I’d ever believe that the reason you’re eating butter is me.  A much more accurate reason would be because it’s a day in the week ending in the letter y.”

I snatched the bread from her hand and bit into it.  God, it was good.  

“Hey!  Great.  That was the last piece.”  She motioned for the waitress for more bread before turning to me with serious eyes.  “Tell me everything.  What were you saying about going to Tennessee?”

I laughed and felt my sanity breaking a little bit.  I couldn’t stop laughing.  Even when the waitress came over to get my drink order I was still chuckling.  I told her what I wanted between laughs and she left with a smile on her face, clearly amused.

“Jesus, Carter.  What’s going on with you?”

I finally sobered up a little.  “I had a stressful morning.  And Tennessee is my neighbor’s name.  You met him.  He carried your unconscious body to my couch.”

Her face turned bright red.  “Oh no!  I thought I was dreaming!  You told me I was dreaming!”

I smiled and shrugged.  “Must’ve slipped my mind.  Anyway.  I ran over his motorcycle.  I’m pretty sure he’s going to murder me in my sleep.”

“Oh, come on.  It’s a motorcycle.  File an insurance claim to get it fixed and move on.  Is he really as sexy as I remember?  In my dream he was super hairy.  That wasn’t real, was it?”

“Apparently it wasn’t just a motorcycle.  So if I come up missing it was him.  Just so you know.  And he was hairy when you met him.  His beard was unkempt.  He trimmed it, though.  He could still use a haircut and another trim but it works for him.”

She leaned back in her chair and groaned.  “Great.  I finally meet a sexy tough guy and you’ve already got dibs on him.”

The waitress came back with more bread and my drink and stood there waiting for our order.  I wasn’t prepared to let Anna’s previous statement go, though.