Colton
“Dude, you’re being played.” Greg’s voice dripped with something just short of disgust.
Colton knew it, but he didn’t think it was all that bad, and as long as they were both aware, so what? “Shut up. I’m going to have a meal with the kid. That’s legal.”
And if they ended up having mutual orgasms, okay. Fine.
“Yeah, well, watch your wallet.”
Colton rolled his eyes. “This from Mister Oh-sir-can-I-see-your-very-big-gun?” He raised his voice to the pitch of the little gal who’d all but assaulted Greg.
“Yeah, she was hot, huh?”
“She was twelve, tops, man.” It was a huge exaggeration, because while Greg was a horn dog, he was still a good guy, like one of the white hats, bone deep. Still, Colton figured fair was fair. If Greg could get some and call it just a passing thing, why couldn’t he?
“Nah. She wasn’t jailbait.” Greg grinned, then waggled his tongue. “I know her sister.”
More like he slept with the sister as well. “You are foul. Back to the point. I said I’d be there and I’ll be there.”
“No one said you had to miss your booty call. Just don’t come cryin’ to me when your dick rots off.”
STDs were always a concern, and Colton planned on being safe, but despite being a carnie, he didn’t see Zach as a skank. “Why not? You know just how to treat it.”
With a salute, Colton fled while he had the last word. He’d be a bit early for Zach’s show, but it would be worth it.
“Officer McAllen?” One of the older ladies, Miss Brea, who ran the cake walk for First Baptist, waved him down on the way. “Do you have a second?”
Ah, fuck. “Yes, ma’am. What did you need?”
“I need a volunteer for just a hot minute.” She dragged him off course and toward a tent.
Colton shook his head. So much for being early. “How can I help?”
“We need a taster.” She led him inside, where five plates sat on the table. “I think we should serve Maeve Anderson’s Dutch apple pie. Eileen Gould thinks we should serve her pear crumble. Pears. Honestly.”
Despite what Greg had said, Colton enjoyed good pie. “Well, I’d be happy to, but are you gonna be mad if I pick Miss Gould’s pears?”
“Hell, boy, just tell the truth. Tell it loud if it’s not the pears, but tell it regardless.”
Colton had grown up seeing Miss Brea strike fear in the hearts of most men for having no manners. She was a hoot, through and through. “Yes, ma’am. Honest, I can do.”
Miz Anderson’s Dutch apple was like the eighth wonder of the modern world. Of course, the pears were damn good, and the lemon pie made him pucker, and the huckleberry cobbler…fuck him raw.
“Oh ladies. This ain’t fair. They’re all amazing. A-mazing.” And he was going to be full as a tick standing up there watching the show.
He’d need to run in place or something if he wanted to eat with Zach. Lord, have mercy. He gave Miz Anderson a shame-faced look. “I’m going to have to go with the huckleberry cobbler. That’s my favorite and this one is out of this world good.”
Lauren Bean, the lady who ran their tiny library with an iron fist, actually did a little twirl. “Take that, Brea. I told you mine was the best.”
Oh, good Lord and ice cream. “I got to go, but Grandma Betty always says the Lord made chocolate and vanilla because we don’t all like the same thing. They all deserve to be put out.”
The group cackled like a hen house full of chickens. He spared a glance back, and they were doing just as he’d said. Heaven save him from little old ladies and the Auxiliary. With a last wave, he ran like a coward. Give him an armed criminal any day over that crowd. They would eat your face.
He patted his belly. That had been worth every slice, though. Maybe another cobbler would show up at the office in the next couple of days too. That did tend to happen.
The crowd was big tonight, but not bad enough that he had the slightest guilt about heading straight to the stage to watch the finest fiddler player on earth. Greg was really pretty happy to cover for him, and he’d still be in the mix if something went down.
This was just for him, though. Watching Zach play was intense. Sexy as hell. Well, if he ignored the rest of the band. Some of those boys were good musicians, but they did dick all for him.
