Take What You Want Tidbits Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Be Careful

Excerpt . . .

 He’s been talking politics at dinner, and no amount of my changing the subject will shut him up. It doesn’t help that Emmett seems to enjoy him being flustered and goads him on with bogus quotes and such.

“No, no, that’s not what he meant, Emmett. You’re misinterpreting that,” Mike says, his cheeks a bit red, his eyes narrowed. He’s really irritated.

“I don’t know. That’s what they said on Fox news,” Emmett says.

“Someday when I run, I’ll—”

“You?” Edward blurts. “You’re going to run for office?”

“Yeah, why not?” Mike asks, ire in his tone.

“Nothing,” Edward says, but can’t contain his laughter. He takes a sip of his drink and nearly does a spit take even though no one else’s said anything.

“What’s so funny?” I ask, dying to know what’s going on in his brain.

“You,” Edward answers, and all eyes are on me.

“What about me?” I ask, laughing.

“You . . . on Fig Newton’s arm, trying to be politically correct and never being able to insult anyone. Ever. Oh, damn . . .” Edward hits the table with his hand, laughing hard, taking gulps of air to get through it.

Angela’s eyes wrinkle in concern, and she whispers something in Edward’s ear which seems to sober him up. I’m disappointed because I quite liked the moment of silliness. Oh, well.

“Bathroom,” Mike says and scoots back abruptly, leaving us all.

Angela goes to the restroom as well, and the other couples leave for the dance floor.

“You,” I say, trying to make Edward feel bad, but the smile on my face won’t go away.

“I can’t help it; he’s a tool.” His grin’s infectious, and I should want to wipe it off his face. I don’t.

The volume rises and the songs change from light to heavy with beat. Edward comes behind me and shimmies or some nonsense.

“What are you doing, goofball?”

“I’m good at the robot.” He demonstrates behind me, making a fool of himself. “Come dance with me, honey pie.”

“What about our dates?”

“They’re going pee pee in the potty. You know you want to.” He shakes my chair and nearly dumps me out of it.

“Fine, geez. Desperate much?”

He looks me over, a small, genuine smile adorning his face. “Only for you.” He extends his hand, then runs us onto the dance floor, my hand in his. His sweet gestures juxtaposed to his rude silliness baffles me, but I love it. Every time I love it.

Bella's prom dress . . .

 

Um . . .