BUTCHER: Wolves MC (Riding With Wolves Book 3) by Faith Winslow

good.”
    Butcher didn’t say anything in response, but just shook his head up and down as he ate his food. I realized then that our conversation was on hold for a moment, which, I guess, was a good thing. After all, it isn’t polite to talk with food in your mouth, and I had a lot more than my burger to chew on for a while.

Chapter 18
     
    ~ Lexi ~
     
    “Want another beer?” Carrie asked, popping up at our table halfway through our meal.
    Butcher pulled his mouth away from his burger just long enough to mutter, “Uh-huh, please,” then went back to devouring the deliciousness.
    Carrie went over to the cooler, grabbed a bottle of Miller Lite, and came back to serve it with a smile. She gave us both a rather endearing look before going to stand behind the counter and chitchat with the cook in the kitchen behind her.
    I looked around Tellie’s at that point and took notice of all the people who were there. Business hadn’t picked up—at all—since we arrived. However, the patrons who were there all seemed very happy and pleased, not just with the food but with life in general. There wasn’t a sad sack or derelict in the lot, and the atmosphere of the place was warm, quiet, and friendly, unlike most other places you’d find along a busy business strip in L.A.
    I took a few more bites of my hamburger, then set it down on my plate. I only had about a quarter of the sandwich left, but I was already full, and I’d seen all that there was to be seen in the restaurant. I was now ready to talk some more—and as Butcher shoved the last nubbin of his burger into his mouth and licked his fingers, I decided that, like it or not, he was, too.
    Butcher sighed and made a satisfied sound as he picked up his beer and took a long drink.
    “Now that was a good burger,” he said, setting his bottle back down.
    “Sure was,” I said, nudging my plate to the side. “I can’t even finish it, but it was awesome.”
    Butcher smiled and fidgeted around a bit. I, however, remained perfectly still, despite the thoughts racing through my head.
    “Listen, Butcher,” I said, trying to reopen our conversation, “I get everything you’re saying. But—”
    “Just a minute,” Butcher said, interrupting me before I could go on. “I have to hit the bathroom.” He took another sip from his bottle, then scooted to the end of the seat.
    “Okay,” I said. I was a little let down that he chose this exact moment to go to the restroom. Yet, at the same time, I was a little relieved, since what I was about to say wasn’t going to be easy.
    As Butcher made his way to the bathroom, I grabbed my beer and quickly chugged what was left. I figured maybe the booze would give me some liquid courage and help me more comfortably make my point.
    “Need another, honey?” Carrie said, approaching me.
    “No,” I replied. “I think I’m good.” I wanted liquid courage, mind you, but I wasn’t looking to get drunk (or even buzzed).
    “Can I get you anything else then?” Carrie asked. “Something for dessert? We have great peach pie here and killer hand-churned ice cream made from a local dairy farm.”
    As appetizing as the dessert choices sounded, they didn’t appeal to me. “No thanks,” I said. “That burger really filled me up.”
    Carrie bobbed her head a smiled. “Yeah, we definitely don’t skimp on the portions here.” She reached down and picked up Butcher’s empty plate, then pick mine up and put it atop of it.
    Just as Carrie turned to leave, Butcher returned to the table.
    “You ready?” he asked, still standing.
    I looked at him curiously. Truth be told, no, I wasn’t ready to leave. And he should’ve known that, given how I’d tried to reopen our discussion before he went off to “hit the bathroom.”
    “I guess,” I responded. “But I wasn’t really done talking yet.”
    “I’ve told you all the basics,” Butcher replied. “There’s not much else I can say. And I’m sure you’re not ready to make up your