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Chapter Two

"What am I supposed to do for three hours?" We just stepped off the plane - Edward and I together - and after finding out how long until the next flight, I'm kind of panicking. Mom's not as worried as me, though. She's never one to fret too much over the small things.

"Bella, just take a nap."

"A nap? I can't just fall asleep in the middle of an airport. What if someone steals my stuff?" I ask appalled then whisper, "What if someone tries to kidnap me?"

I glance at Edward, and he's not looking at me, but the small smile on his lips tells me he's listening to my freak out.

"Sweetheart, you watch too many movies. It'll go by fast then you'll board the next plane and be on your way to us. It's beautiful here. You're going to love it."

She hangs up, and I stare at the screen of my phone completely irritated with her and this entire vacation.

"Come on," Edward says. "I'll take you out to dinner."

"What?" I ask, confused, staring up at him.

"I'm taking you to dinner. Let's go."

He walks away, and after a short delay, I quickly follow after him. "I can't just go to dinner with you. I don't really even know you yet."

"Yet," he muses more to himself and suddenly stops, making me nearly bump into him. "You can trust me. Cross my heart and hope to die." He grins, and really what the hell do I have to lose?

Am I safer here inside the airport?

Probably.

Do I sometimes make dumb choices?

Sure.

Am I going to let Edward take me to dinner?

"Okay," I relent. "Do you like Cracker Barrel?"

I've never been, but dad has, and the way he goes on about it, well, it kind of makes me want to try it.

"You bet your cute ass I do."

Did he just call my ass cute?

He looks back at me, and I ignore the flutter in my stomach and continue to follow him. "You don't have to get home?"

He shakes his head and leads me to a big ass truck. "No. It's four hours away from here anyway. I'll leave when I leave."

"When will that be?"

"After you're back on the plane. A gentleman doesn't leave a girl all alone in an airport to get her shit stolen or God forbid to get kidnapped."

Is he laughing at me? I guess he doesn't watch too many movies or the news for that matter.

"I'll be fine."

"There's that word again - fine. I'm pretty sure your voice was shaking when you were on the phone with your mom," he says, pulling open the door and grabbing my bags to shove them in the back. "Unless your mom's just a scary person."

"Haha, funny."

He pulls open the driver side door and gestures for me to climb in. "Hop in. Let me put some food in that hungry belly."

I only hesitate a second before I step up onto the side step thing and crawl into the truck, pushing the middle console up, so I can scoot all the way over. I buckle up - safety first - and wait for Edward to get settled.

"This is a nice truck."

He smiles out the windshield. "She is nice."

"She?"

"Yeah. I'm not going to call her a he. I don't ride he's." I start laughing, and he looks over at me. "You ready?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" I ask.

"I just want to make sure you're sure about leaving an airport with an almost stranger." He chuckles, and now I'm having some doubts.

"Well, you're not a rapist are you?"

"Uh, no I am not. Not that a rapist would admit that, but…"

"Are you kidnapping me?"

"You climbed in of your own free will."

God, that dimple.

"A serial killer?"

"Only if they're frosted flakes," he says, smirking, and I can't help the stupid smile that crosses my face.

"In that case, I'm sure and starving."

"Let's feed you then," he says before pulling out of the airport and onto the busy city street. There's no going back now. "So, what's your story?"

"My story? I don't have one. I'm barely in my first year of college. I haven't even lived. Actually this trip is the first thing I've done on my own. Pathetic, right?"

"Definitely." He laughs, and I know he's joking, but he's actually right. "So no adventures? No wild shenanigans?"

Edward switches lanes and ignores the honks of outrage as he cuts off a tiny little Mazda.

"Nope, none of that. I mean, I've gone on vacations with my family every year, but never alone like an adult. What about you? Any backpacking trips across Western Europe?"

"I'm afraid not." He throws me a smile - he's generous with the smiles - that makes me blush before his eyes are back on the road. "I've never left the country, but I do love adventures."

"Are you the outdoorsy type?"

"You could say that. My dad owns a ranch - I grew up in the outdoors."

"A ranch? With like animals?"

"What other kind of ranches are there?"

"I don't know," I say, feeling dumb. "There's ranch dressing."

"Oh shit," he laughs, moving into the turning lane as Cracker Barrel comes into view. "Dressing, huh? You're cute."

Say what?

"Here we are. Cracker Barrel at your service," he says, shutting the truck off and hopping down. I watch him walk in front of the vehicle until he's standing at my door and pulling it open like a gentleman - the kind you only see in movies. "You ready to eat? You can't live off just goldfish crackers."

Oh, I have, and I could.

He holds out his hand, and I place mine in his and let him pull me from the truck. He lets me go as soon as my feet hit asphalt, and we walk side by side into the restaurant.

Thirty minutes go by before we're sharing a booth. The gift shop is addicting. I didn't buy anything because I know mom will have a shit fit if I do, but Edward bought me a five pound bag of Swedish Fish, claiming nothing could top them.

I didn't tell him that my aunt used to bring me some from Pennsylvania every year - I love them - and that I grew up thinking Pennsylvania was the only place that sold them. Little did I know I could have just walked into any Walmart across the U.S. and snagged a bag.

The waitress hands us each a menu, and I order an orange juice - ignoring Edward's look of outrage - and listen as he orders a pink lemonade.

"Orange juice for dinner?"

I nod and toy with the salt and pepper shakers. The restaurant is full and the sound of a screaming kid a few tables over is kind of annoying. I've never really liked kids. Not since the summer I was forced to babysit my cousin when I was 15. She was playing in the yard, and I thought it was all fun and games until I walked over and she was playing with a piece of dog shit. I swear she smelled like poo until Christmas. "You can never have too much Vitamin C."

Edward chuckles. "What are you getting?"

My eyes scan the menu, looking for something mouthwatering. I can feel Edward's eyes on me, and I want to act like I'm okay with it, like he's not making me feel nervous, but he is.

"I think I'll have the Broccoli Cheddar Chicken."

"You can't," he says, shaking his head, his eyes now on his own menu. "It's not Wednesday."

"What?"

"The Broccoli Cheddar Chicken is a Wednesday special. You can't order a Wednesday special on a Friday."

"Shut up," I laugh.

His lips hitch as he lifts his head. "I'm serious." He leans forward and points to the menu where it says the day of the week - a day of the week special - and his hands are veiny. Not gross, but veiny like I imagine Thor's would look like because he's so strong. "Read the fine print - Eating Wednesday's special on Friday is prohibited." It doesn't say that, but the day of the week specials are only made on each specific day. "I have an idea," he says. "I'll pick your food and you pick mine."

"I'm not sure how that makes me feel. What if I don't like what you pick? I'm kind of picky."

His smile is ridiculous and confident. "You'll like it. Go on, order me something yummy. Don't be stingy either, I'm hungry."

"I don't know what you like," I argue. "Nobody wants to eat food they don't like."

"Trust me, I'll like it."

"Whatever you say." I scan the menu, not having a clue what I'm going to choose because I don't know anything about Edward other than his taste in movies, that he grew up on a ranch, and that he has an adorable dimple I want to dip my finger into.

Great, now my face is all warm.

The waitress comes by, and I listen as Edward orders me the Barrel cheeseburger with steak fries, making my mouth water, and like a cheat, I order the same thing for Edward.

Edward's smiling - of course he is - when she walks away. "You took the easy way out."

Shrugging I say, "I just figured you ordered me what you like and since the broccoli cheddar chicken is off the table, you'll get the cheeseburger."

"Nice. I do happen to love burgers. Do you?"

"I do."

He takes a drink of his pink lemonade, and I stare at the way his throat bobs as he swallows until he catches me and smirks.

"What are you studying?"

"What? Nothing!"

"What's the point of college if you're studying nothing?"

Oh!

"Education. I've always wanted to be a teacher."

"My mom's a teacher. She loves it. What kind of teacher?"

"Not a little kid teacher. High school math."

"None of my teachers looked like you in high school," he says.

"Well, in three years, I could look different. Did you go to college?"

"Nah," he says. "College wasn't for me. I help my dad run the ranch."

"Are you a cowboy?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "Not the howdy partner kind of type. I don't rope and ride. I ride and raise and herd cattle. I don't yeehaw."

Oh my god he's so cute.

"Do you have a hat - no, not a ball cap, a cowboy hat?"

"I do. Lots of them."

I know he has boots on his feet and jeans that fit well because trust me, I looked. The only person I've ever seen wear boots and a cowboy hat is Harry and that's just because it's his style. He has nothing to do with cows and ranches.

"Do you have a thing for cowboys or something?" He asks, trying to hide his smile behind clear glass and pink lemonade. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

"No? No boyfriend or no you don't have a thing for cowboys?"

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Ah, so you have a thing for cowboys then."

"Shut up," I laugh, taking a drink of my own drink, feeling my armpits start to sweat because he's so damn cute he makes me kind of nervous. "I don't know any cowboys, so I can't have a thing for them."

He nods thoughtfully and is about to say something else before the waitress interrupts us.

"Here ya'll go. Enjoy."

"Thank you," I say.

"Cheers," Edward says, holding up his burger, lifting his chin for me to do the same. We bump burgers, both of us laughing before he takes a huge bite.

It's yum.

Back to regular scheduled programming this Wednesday.