Chapter 1 #4
“Rule number one: Don’t feed the cat.” He nodded toward the television mounted on the wall. “What kind of reception do you get? If we have to spend time together, we might as well watch something, right?”
“Not very good if you are wanting a ball game or to watch regular TV, but I travel with entertainment.” She stood up and dragged a cardboard box of movies out from behind a closet door. “DVD player is hooked up and ready.”
“When we run out of things to watch here, I’ve got a box about twice that size over in my trailer we can work our way through. I also have a few books. What do you like to read?”
“Anything that has women empowering other women,” she said, “and romance books.”
“I can’t help you out there, but speaking of romance, have you told Jack that we are a couple?” Knox asked.
“I haven’t, but I will,” she answered and dreaded having to lie to her favorite uncle.
“Should we do it together to make it real?” he asked.
“That would be great. Maybe we could go to the rec center a little early for breakfast tomorrow morning and tell him then, before the others arrive,” she suggested.
“Okay. Do we tell him that we’re a fake couple?”
“Oh, no! Me, you, and my mama are the only ones who need to know the truth. We want to keep this as close to the vest as possible.”
“What if there’s a rule against dating the niece of the boss?”
She shrugged. “If there is, I’ll kiss you goodbye.”
“You’ll quit this job over a rule like that?” Knox teased.
“No, you will be the one leaving, but we can still have that long-distance thing if you want,” she answered.
“You are a hard woman, Charlotte.”
“Yes, I am, and don’t forget it.”
Knox reached for a second slice of pizza.
“I need to know a little more about my girlfriend. At this point, I know your name, and how we met, which was only a few days ago. But if we want people to think we’ve been dating for a while, you should have let me in on a few of your secrets. How old are you?”
“Didn’t your mama teach you not to ask a woman about her age or weight?”
“She did, but I don’t date underage women,” Knox answered.
“Thank you for even thinking that I might be underage,” she said.
“I’m looking at thirty in the rearview mirror,” Knox offered.
“Twenty-eight,” she said. “My hair is naturally this color. I don’t have the time or patience to keep it dyed.
I don’t wear contacts or glasses. I’m five feet, nine inches tall, but don’t ask about my weight.
Only God and me and the nurse at the doctor’s office know that, and she will never say the number out loud for fear that she will disappear and never be found. ”
“Six feet, one ninety-five. I don’t dye my hair, either, and my eyes are really blue. Have you ever been married?” Knox asked.
“No, not even close. You?”
Knox shook his head. “No, ma’am, and I’m not interested in doing so. Do you have children?”
“Nope.”
“Me neither,” Knox said. “You pretty much know about my family. You met them at my twin brother’s wedding.”
“Tripp is your twin?” Lottie gasped.
“Yep, but not identical,” he answered. “My family is complicated. Brodie, my older brother, and I have the same mother. But his father is Joe Clay Carter, but they were never married. Joe Clay didn’t even know that Brodie existed until a little over a year ago.
Brodie owns an organic farm, and Tripp has a leather shop, both in Spanish Fort.
They are both married, and Tripp has an adopted son, Nicky. ”
“Three brothers, Steven, Paul, and Ryan. They were sixteen, fourteen, and twelve when I was born,” she said. “I reckon that’s enough for the first few dates, don’t you?”
Knox reached for another slice of pizza. “Just a couple more. Why are you a framer?”
“I love my job. Fresh air and the smell of sawdust are like perfume to me. I would hate to sit behind a desk all day,” she answered. As bad as she didn’t like being inside and wearing anything other than work boots, she might consider a change if she wasn’t happy after the El Paso gig.
“Same here. Brodie enlisted in the military. Tripp worked as a CEO. My parents wanted me to go to college, but I’d been working in construction in the summers. I fell in love with it,” he answered. “Just one more question. What’s your favorite food?”
She pointed at the pizza box. “Black olives and mushrooms are at the top of the list, but I’ll eat about any kind. I also like Italian food of any shape, with lasagna heading that list. What’s yours?”
“My brother’s step-mama, Mary Jane—you met her at the wedding—makes a mean pot of chili, but I also like fried chicken and all the trimmings that we get pretty often on Sunday after church. Do you cook?”
“Yes, sir. I make a mean sandwich and am a pro at heating up canned soup.”
“What kind of sandwich?” Knox flashed a brilliant grin.
“You name it, I can build it, and I don’t even need a how-to book. What about you?”
“My mother insisted all three of us guys learn to cook,” he answered. “I can teach you if we get serious.”
“Ain’t damn likely,” she said. “Enough of the learning about each other. Let’s watch a movie, and then you can go back to your own trailer.”