“Are you in some kind of trouble, dear?” a phlegmy voice asked. “Is this some kind of sex-slave kidnapping? Were you forced to marry an old man against your will?”
“Old man?” Noah asked in horror.
Libby tried to push down her rising giggles. “No, ma’am. I’m just a regular bride trying to pee.”
“In the Golden Cowboy Café bathroom?”
Libby rolled her eyes, though she was aware the effect was lost on her audience. “Do you think you could grab some toilet paper for me? Noah’s hands are full and I don’t think I have any in here.”
“The Sizzler has nicer bathrooms.” The door to the next stall banged into the wall.
“The next time I get married and go out for steak while still in my wedding dress, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Oh, dear,” the woman said. “I hope you’re not one of those polygamists.”
“No, ma’am,” Libby said. “I couldn’t even handle one marriage. I think society is safe from any matrimonial deviancy from me.”
Noah’s hand reached over the top of her sea of silk and crinoline, handing her the toilet paper.
“Well, good luck, dear,” the woman called out, then her voice tightened in disapproval. “And you, young man. The least you could do is take your bride somewhere decent to eat. The Chinese buffet is just down the street.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Noah said in a chastised tone, echoing Libby’s previous statement. Several seconds later, he addressed Libby in a whisper, “Are you done yet?”
She stood, careful to keep the back of her skirt from touching the toilet. “I’m done; now back up so I can get out.” Her dress tugged her forward as Noah started to lower the skirt and she laughed when she saw his horrified face.
“Can we get out of here now?”
“I have to wash my hands first.” She glanced over her shoulder at him as she made her way to the sink. “Personal hygiene. But then maybe you don’t think you need to wash after your little shake.” She winked at him in the mirror as she turned on the water.
“I’ll have you know it’s more than a little shake.”
She laughed.
“I suddenly feel the need to affirm my manhood.”
“The size of your shake has nothing to do with your manhood.”
He moved behind her, lightly pressing his chest to her back. “I’ll have you know it has everything to do with my manhood.”
“Too bad for you, I’ll never have it confirmed,” she teased.
A few days before she proposed to Mitch, Noah had suggested a change in their relationship. She’d refused, but not because the offer wasn’t tempting. In truth, she’d considered sleeping with him months ago, right after they first met. But she was with Mitch at the time, so she and Noah became friends instead. Now she marveled at everything she would have missed if she’d given in to her initial lust—the late-night talks about nothing and everything. The long walks in the park with her dog Tortoise. All the things she’d never done with a boyfriend.
Their friendship was more intimate and wonderful than any of her other relationships, but she knew who she was—and who he was, for that matter—and there was no way they could introduce sex to their friendship without ruining it. What they had was worth more than a few days—or months, at best—of what was sure to be amazing sex. But knowing it and accepting it were two different things.
When she turned off the water and reached for a paper towel, she caught his reflection in the mirror, and from the look on his face, she wondered if he was waging the same war.
Chapter Four
“Finally done?” Noah asked. “Let’s eat.”
Libby shook her head in disbelief. “You seriously still want to eat here?”
“Of course. I didn’t do all of this just to get back in the car.”
“Noah.”
“Get moving.” He opened the door to the hall, then grabbed her elbow and guided her out the door. He released his hold as they walked to the hostess stand.
Still wide-eyed, the hostess grabbed two menus. “You’re still here. I thought this was one of those TV shows. Especially with all those women running out of the bathroom.”
“Nope, just us,” Noah said. “And we’re starving, but remember, we’d appreciate something romantic.”
“Follow me.”
They walked through the Western-themed restaurant, drawing the attention of every guest and wait staff in the joint. Noah waved to one family and then pointed at Libby, lifting his eyebrows in a can you believe this look.
Libby smacked his arm. “Stop that!”
“What? I told you that you’d be the talk of the restaurant. It’s like being in a parade.”
“Then maybe you should go see the Cotton Bowl Parade with Mitch.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. The mention of her fiancé’s name—ex-fiancé’s name—reminded her of her selfishness as well as her public humiliation.
The hostess stopped and motioned to a corner booth. The seat back was dark stained beadboard and a lantern with a candle sat in the middle of the round table. She turned to Noah and grimaced. “This is the most romantic table I have.”
His grin spread from ear to ear. “It’s perfect.” He motioned for Libby to slide in and she glared up at him, waiting for him to change his mind. But his grin widened even more. Rolling her eyes, she surrendered, and he scooted around the opposite side.