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“If by boring you mean kind, professional, dependable, or trustworthy? Sure,” he replies.
“Okay,” she smirks as she stands and walks to the door without helping everyone else finish closing up.
“Where are you going?” Wyatt snaps.
“To get laid,” she laughs. “While you court your boring miss, I’m going to Anchorage to find some orgasms I don’t have to give myself.”
“Jesus, Mer,” Mason laughs. “You kiss your mom with that mouth?”
“Sure do,” she responds. “And I do a lot of other things with it too. Not that Wyatt would know anything about that.” And with a final wink, she walks out the door. We watch as she hops into her plane and taxis down the short runway.
“Fuck,” Wyatt bites out. “I need a beer.”
“Fuck a beer, after that foreplay I need a smoke,” Mason laughs.
Wyatt scowls. “This isn’t funny.”
“Sure it is,” he says. “Come on. I’ll buy lunch at the Hi-Lite. You too, Brit.”
“What’s the Hi-Lite?”
“Best fried chicken you’ll ever have,” he says. “Come on. There’s nothing left to do here anyway. I’ll drive.”
“Sure, mate. I just want to make a call real quick. I’ll meet you out front.”
“Sure,” he agrees with a knowing smirk.
I watch them walk away, one resigned, the other frustrated. I pull my phone from my pocket and check the screen. No calls. Oh Zelda, what are we doing here? I dial her number. It rings and rings and rings and then no answer.
“This is Zelda of Wildflower Creations. I can’t come to the phone right now so please leave a message at the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can… beeeeep…”
“Hey, I haven’t heard from you. Is everything all right? Anyway, I’m going to catch a late lunch with some of the guys, but I’d still like to see you later. Call me when you get this.”
I end the call feeling like a chump. I tuck my phone back in my pocket and head out front to meet the guys at Mason’s SUV. We climb in and he drives us back into town. A couple doors down from Hank’s establishment and my hotel is a place called the Hi-Lite, just as Mason said. Only this is one of the crustiest looking dive bars I’ve ever seen and not at all a chicken establishment as the Yanks are so fond of.
“I thought you said this was a chicken place?”
“No,” he laughs. “I said this was the best fried chicken you’d ever eat.”
“At a dive bar?”
“At a dive bar,” he agrees. “Just don’t let old Hank hear you say it.”
“I take it he prefers the fried chicken at his bear pub?”
“No,” they both laugh. “He doesn’t even serve chicken. He’s just cantankerous.”
“That is true,” I agree, and they both laugh.
“Now the best pizza is at the gas station and the best coffee in town is at the bait and ammo store,” Wyatt says.
“Now you’re pulling my leg.”
“No. It’s all true,” Mason says.
“This is an interesting town.”
“It is. And this is the best place to get a beer when one of the Harris girls has you all twisted up inside.”
