She liked the intimacy between them, and how dim the inside of the restaurant was even in the middle of the summer. “That’s a hard question.”
“Is it?”
“What would you wish for?”
“Oh, let’s see. Cooler summers, for one.” He grinned at her, and Ginger couldn’t contradict his wish. “The ability to sleep in every day. And world peace.”
Ginger giggled and nudged him with her shoulder. “That’s a good list.”
Nate chuckled and lifted his water glass to his mouth with his free hand. “Oh, that’s not good. That tastes like flowers.” He made a face and looked at her. “You like this place?”
“The lo mein is incredible,” she said. “And the shrimp fried rice. That’s what I’m getting.”
He looked down at the menu. “What do you want, bud?” he asked Connor.
“Sweet and sour chicken,” the little boy said as if he’d frequented many Chinese restaurants.
Surprise crossed Nate’s face, but he said, “All right,” and ordered the child what he wanted when the waiter came. Ginger loaded up on carbs, because it was her birthday and she could. Nate got teriyaki beef and pork fried rice, and she watched as he took his first bite.
“Good, right?” she said as his face lit up.
“Really good.”
“Now you know why I come here on my birthday every year.” She happily dug into her shrimp fried rice, more joy coursing through her than she’d felt in many long years.
“Do you always come with ‘good company’?” he asked.
“I usually come alone,” she said. “At least since….” She trailed off, not sure how to bring up Hyrum. But she felt like it was time. Nate had been at the ranch for over two months now. Ten weeks, maybe. They’d been kissing for a while.
He didn’t press her to finish her sentence, and she twirled her chopsticks through her noodles, focusing on the bean sprouts and green onions as she said, “I used to be with a guy named Hyrum. We came together once.”
“Was he the last guy you’ve been out with?” Nate asked.
Ginger nodded and scooped up her noodles. “What about you? Pen pal girlfriend from prison?”
Nate chuckled and shook his head. “Nope. Not much of a love life before prison either. I was pretty focused on my career.”
“Oh, come on,” she said. “You expect me to believe that? A handsome guy like you didn’t have a girlfriend?”
“It’s true,” he said. “Though, I mean…yeah, I can tell you.” He put his fork down and glanced at Connor. “The last woman I dated—her name was Brittany. She’s the one who introduced me to the guys who got us all entwined in the fraud. So…yeah, I’m not really that lucky in the girlfriend department.”
Ginger nodded, trying to sort through which question to ask. The fraud? The girlfriend? “So…what are we?” she asked, going with girlfriend. “If you saw someone you knew, for example, right outside those doors.” She pointed with her chopsticks. “How would you introduce me?”
Nate reached for his fork again, his head bent. “Well, I guess I’d say you were my boss.”
“Oh, that’s the wrong answer,” Ginger said as his words dove deep into her heart and gouged out a hole. But by making her tone flirty and adding a plastic smile to her face, maybe she wouldn’t spiral into self-loathing.
“In that case,” he said. “I’d say you were my girlfriend.”
“Yeah, because it’s kind of icky to be kissing your boss, right?” she asked.
“Is it icky to kiss your boss?” he asked, throwing her a flirty smile too. “Oops. Done that.”
A beat of silence passed, and Ginger burst out laughing. “See?” she asked when she’d sobered up enough to talk. “You have had other girlfriends.”
“No.” He shook his head, still chuckling. “No, I haven’t. The boss was Brittany. Same woman. She’s still in prison too. Got ten years.”
“Oh, wow.” Ginger quieted all the way, and Nate seemed to disappear inside himself for a minute.
He drew in a breath, and she imagined him to be throwing off the cobwebs in his mind, because when he looked at her again, those bright, striking blue eyes danced. “I’m going to run next door for a minute. Will you be okay here with Connor?” He tossed his napkin on the table, already starting to stand.
She shouldn’t let him go off on his own, but how could she say no? “I don’t need any gifts,” she said. “Really, I don’t. Lunch is what I wanted, and you’re buying that.”
“Give me fifteen minutes to find something,” he said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet. He tossed a card on the table that actually made a thud like it was made of metal. “Use that to pay. If I can’t find anything in fifteen minutes, you’ll get lunch and that’s it.” He grinned and acted like he was getting ready to run a race. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Ginger said with a laugh.
Nate took off for the exit, taking his backpack with him. He didn’t look back, and Ginger couldn’t help giggling as he left. She looked at Connor, who had bright orange sauce around his mouth. She tapped his napkin. “Wipe your lips, bud.”
He did, and then he said, “Nate is gonna be my dad.”
“Yeah,” Ginger said. “I heard that. Are you excited about that?”
“Yeah,” Connor said, and that was all. She wondered what it was like inside a four-year-old’s head, but she couldn’t remember when she was four.
So she asked him why he liked sweet and sour chicken, and he said, “My dad used to get it all the time,” he said, launching into other foods his dad used to make or feed him.
Ginger handed the credit card to the waiter when he came by, and it was indeed made of metal. She’d never seen such a fancy, metal card before, and she was once again reminded that Nate Mulbury was not like other inmates.
Fifteen minutes came and went. So did twenty. When she and Connor had been sitting there alone for thirty minutes, Ginger reached for him. “Come on, bud,” she said. “Let’s go find Nate.”
Worry ate at her insides, and she couldn’t believe she’d let him go to the mall by himself. He could be anywhere by now. Literally anywhere.
Ginger stepped out of the dark restaurant and into the bright sunshine, blinking as if she’d never stepped foot into downtown Sweet Water Falls. The truck still sat in the parking lot only a few yards away, so he hadn’t stolen that.
Just the fact that she’d assumed he might’ve stolen from her made her frown. But why hadn’t he come back?
“Hey,” he said a moment later, rushing toward them. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Did you get my texts?”
Ginger could only blink. There he was. He hadn’t left. He hadn’t hitched a ride to the bus station and gotten on the first Greyhound to come by. He’d never given her a reason not to trust him, and guilt gutted her.
“No,” she said. “Sorry, I didn’t look.” She pulled her phone out of her purse, and sure enough, Nate had texted several times. “Long lines, huh?”