Loving Her (Mitchell Family #9)(50)

Conner, who ate everything, is the one who convinced her of it. He’d watched some damn show on television that researched how a hotdog was made. Obviously, it’s one of those foods where they throw in a bunch of the leftovers and press it into a shape. My motto was always ‘if it tasted good, you eat it’, but Conner wasn’t like me. He was thoroughly grossed out, going so far as to make sure his kids didn’t have it any more.

Then he told his sister. After a late night game of beer and cards, she’d made the decision that they were awful. She even did research and found that some brands were known to cause headaches. I often wondered how many of her clients were burdened with the story of how gross they were.

At any rate, gas station hot dogs were definitely off limits.

When we went inside the restaurant, there were only a few tables that had patrons. We sat ourselves in a corner booth, and I rearranged the tableware so that I could pretend we were at a fancy restaurant. Miranda giggled as I folded up my napkin and stuck it in the sugar just right to look like a candle. “Don’t laugh. I’ll light that shit and make it realistic.”

She laughed some more. “That’s okay. I think this will do. I’m so hungry that I don’t even care about ambiance.”

“So you’d be cool with eating on the floor?”

She kicked me under the table. “Shut up and decide what you want. You’re so disgustin’ sometimes.”

I laughed at myself before I even made my next comment. “I can’t stop thinking about poking you in the ass with my meat.”

Miranda’s face turned a shade of crimson, and I quickly realized that a very shocked waitress was standing behind me waiting to take our order. Obviously, since things like that only entertained me, I ordered as if she’d not heard a single thing I’d said to my wife.

Once she left, I prepared my shins for another wave of kicks, but she began to laugh at me instead of inflicting her wrath of bodily harm. “You are so embarassin’.”

I threw my arms in the air. “How was I to know she was behind me? Besides, I really can’t stop thinking about it.”

She giggled and then curled up her face. “Ty, give me one hour of maturity. Just one hour to act like a gentlemen while we eat. As soon as we leave you can say whatever you want.”

I looked around the restaurant and spotted a couple walking in. At first I thought it was a man and his granddaughter, but they sat in a booth side by side and had begun making out, like teenagers.

Miranda spotted it, too, and gave me a look. “Mature, Ty. Please don’t do what I think you’re goin’ to do.”

I folded my hands on the table and remained quiet, even though I wanted so badly to yell something across the room.

When we went out, we usually had our kids, which meant we’d end up eating whatever they got. It had been so long since we were able to order something, enjoy it, and finish it while it was still hot.

I savored every bite of my western omelet, while Miranda feasted on meatloaf that looked like it may have come from a can. Literally, it was shaped like a cylinder.

She doused it in ketchup, albeit I refused the bite she offered me. I’d do anything on a dare, but that didn’t look like meat, and it scared me. At least we already knew that the plumbing worked efficiently at the hotel.

We finished our meals around midnight and we headed to the front to pay. As we passed the odd couple, I gave the old man a thumbs up. The old bugger held up his fist and pounded mine. My wife, who’d made me promise to behave, couldn’t hold in her laughter. She was hunched over out of breath as the cashier rang us up.

Once we’d paid and finally calmed down enough to walk, we headed back to the hotel. Miranda started walking inside, but I grabbed her hand and pulled her in the direction of the beach. “Let’s go for a walk. Nobody’s here, so we have the beach to ourselves.”

“Are you tryin’ to get me naked already?”

I grabbed a good chunk of her ass while we walked. “If you want to get naked, I won’t stop you. I’ve gotta warn ya, though. That water is cold as shit. There’s no way I’m getting in there, on account of my dick shriveling up to nothing. It might not want to come back out ever again and then you’d be shit out of luck.”

“I’m not gettin’ in that water in the dark. You’re crazy. Sharks come into feed at night. Goin’ in there is like askin’ them to bite your ass. No thank you!”

I laughed. “Chicken?”

“When you do it first, I’ll consider it.”

She wasn’t challenging me. She was purely proving to me that it wasn’t ever going to happen. “Fine, let’s just be romantic people for a bit.”

I was being sarcastic, but as the sand hit our feet and we got further down the beach, I realized it really was romantic.

The moonlight lit the path for us, and once we were passed the sand dunes, it sparkled over the waves as they came crashing in. There was nothing like the sounds and the smell of being at the beach. An added bonus was that it was deserted. Most of the condos weren’t even lit up.

We walked for a good five blocks before plopping down in the sand. It was chilly, and I cuddled up against my wife, pressing her into the soft granules beneath us. Her hair blew in the wind, and she was so stunning from the light of the moon shining down on us.