Tides and Tidings

Chapter 29

Charlie

W atching my girl devour her burger and fries was the best thing. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head with each and every bite. She leaned back in the booth and popped the last fry into her mouth.

“This outfit was not conducive to eating this much food.” She patted her stomach.

“You look hot.” I offered up with a small shrug.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, “I don’t know about all that.”

“It’s the truth. I don’t lie.”

“Bullshit.”

I knew what she was going to bring up.

“You lied earlier when you said you wanted a salad.” Blythe motioned to my long-empty plate. “You’d probably die if you ate a leafy green.”

“I would not.” I was only slightly offended, but I knew it was probably true.

“Why did you lie?” She countered.

Think fast.

“I didn’t.” I’m going against my own code of conduct here.

“You are right now. Tell me why you thought I would believe the salad thing for a minute.”

I had no idea where to go from here. Should I tell her I was planning on proposing tonight, or should I compound it with another lie?

“I’m not a good liar,” I admitted.

Blythe rolled her eyes, “You sure as hell aren’t.” She paused and sipped on the last bit of water in her cup. “You don’t have to tell me why, but just please don’t do it again. That’s what makes you such an amazing guy—being honest.”

The guilt bubbled in my chest, “I won’t.”

She outstretched her right pinky finger, “Promise?”

I raised both of my pinkies, “Double pinky promise.”

“Oh. That’s legally binding.”

I shook my head, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Would you have me any other way?”

There’s not one thing I would ever change about Blythe. She’s beautiful both inside and out.

“Not in a million years.” I would regret this, but I continued, “What’s one thing you’d change about me?”

Blythe’s brows furrowed and she tapped her chin.

“Are there that many to choose from?” I teased.

“There’s nothing I would change about you.” She paused, “Well, there is one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You use too many damn towels. Every night is a new bath towel when you come out of the shower.”

Ever since Blythe moved in, she’s been on my case about using fewer towels. Something along the lines of “You’re already clean when you come out of the shower; why can’t you use the same towel more than once.”

I gave her a playful eye roll, “This is why we have separate bathrooms.”

“That doesn’t help when I still have to do the laundry!” She teased.

I started to slide out of the booth, “You know what, I’ll just do the laundry from here on out.” I outstretched my hand to her.

She grabbed my hand and stood up, “And that’s how all my clothes ended up fitting Wrenny.”

“You sound like you doubt my ability to do laundry.”

“Not doubting your ability to do the laundry, just your ability to not shrink all my clothes.”

My hand that wasn’t entwined with hers met my chest in feigned hurt. “I can’t believe your skepticism.”

“Are you really that surprised? I found a box of Wren’s old clothes in a closet the other day, which were clearly shrunk. How many of Wren’s clothes were shrunk before I came into the picture?” A laugh escaped her lips.

“I plead the fifth.” Blythe only found one box of clothes. There are three others in various closets.

We stepped back outside, and the cooler winter air hit our faces.

“Do you still want to go out?” Blythe asked, stepping out of the entryway.

“Hell yes. We have to go show everyone what it’s like when you get drunk with the person you wanna grow old with.”

Was that too cheesy? Maybe, but Blythe loves my cheesiness. If we’re honest, the woman loves cheese as a whole.

We strolled down the cobblestone street silently before turning down a sketchy alleyway.

“You’re sure it’s down here?” Blythe asked, her eyes wide.

I double-checked the directions on my phone, “Yep. I think it’s that door down there.”

“Charlie, that door looks like it’s the back entrance.”

My eyes scanned the area as we stepped closer. An older gentleman sat in a chair by the door, cloaked in the darkness. As we approached the man, I wrapped my arm tightly around Blythe’s waist.

“Howdy,” the man greeted. “Y’all lookin’ for the Waterin’ Hole?”

“Yes, sir. Are we in the right place?” I could hear the vague sound of music bumping behind the door.

“Sure are. Can I just see your IDs?”

I grabbed my driver’s license from my wallet and handed it to the guy to inspect as Blythe did the same.

The bouncer inspected them within an inch of their life—which was flattering—before handing them back to us.

“Have fun, kids!” The man opened the door for us and we were met with what I could best describe as a college bar.

It was damn near pitch black in there except for the occasional strobe light and neon signs on the walls. The small bar reeked of cheap beer and weed. I glanced over at Blythe, and her eyes were wide.