“To any of it,” I admitted. “The mornin’ after. Stayin’. Coffee. All of it.”
Mike’s expression softened. “You usually just leave, huh?”
“Before they wake up, if I can manage it.”
He took a sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim of his mug. “Well, that would’ve been difficult since you’re staying in my house.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, I guess it would’ve.”
The tension eased a bit. Mike moved around the kitchen, pulling out eggs and bread, his movements casual and fluid. I leaned against the doorframe, watching him work. It felt strangely domestic, and even stranger was how much I didn’t hate it.
“You know,” Mike said as he cracked eggs into a bowl, “just because we can’t have...more... doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy what time we do have.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged, whisking the eggs with a fork. “I mean, you’re here now. I’m here. We clearly enjoy each other’s company?—”
“You mean we enjoy fuckin’ each other,” I corrected.
“That too,” he agreed, unfazed by my crudeness. “But we could also just... be friends. Hang out. Talk. Whatever.”
I snorted. “Friends with benefits?”
“Is that so hard to imagine?” He poured the eggs into a hot pan. “You said it yourself. You’re going to leave eventually. I’m staying here. We both know where we stand. So why not make the most of the time we have?”
I stared at him, trying to figure out his angle. But there didn’t seem to be one. He was just... offering friendship. Along with the best sex I’d ever had.
“I don’t really do friends,” I said finally.
Mike glanced over his shoulder at me, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I gathered that. But maybe it’s time you tried something new.”
The toast popped up, and he busied himself buttering it. I watched his hands, remembering how they’d felt on my body just an hour ago.
“I’ll think about it,” I said, surprising myself.
Mike’s smile widened. “Good. Now sit down and eat your eggs before they get cold.”
Chapter 17
Cash
Mike was gone by mid-morning, heading for the church to help get things ready for Sunday service the next day. And, since it was Saturday, none of the realtors were answering any of my texts. So, by the time noon rolled around, I was so fucking bored I could barely stand it.
And the only thing to do in Sagebrush was go get lunch.
Slipping on my boots and my cowboy hat, I headed out onto the street, leaving my truck parked at the parsonage. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day. I figured I might as well walk and enjoy it a little bit. The town, to my surprise, was recovering quickly from the tornado. Sure, there were tarps on roofs, sawdust in the streets, and damage here and there. But for the most part, the place was looking nearly back to its old self. The downed trees were gone, the power lines fixed, and as I rounded the corner I noticed that even Dolly was already in the process of getting her ancient neon sign replaced. This one, it seemed, wasn’t neon, but LEDs behind plexiglass made to mimic neon. From the street I could barely tell the difference.
I pushed open the door to Dolly’s Diner, and the familiar jingle of the bell announced my arrival. The place was busy for lunchtime, most of the tables filled with locals tucking into theirmeals. A few heads turned my way, and I caught the flash of recognition in their eyes before they quickly looked away.
Dolly herself stood behind the counter, her blonde hair curled and lifted as high as it would go. When she spotted me, she broke into a wide smile.
“Cash!” she called out, waving a coffee pot in greeting. “Well, ain’t this a pleasant surprise! Take a seat wherever you like, sugar.”
I nodded, scanning the diner for an empty booth. Most were taken, but I spotted one near the back and headed for it, trying to ignore the whispers that followed me. By now they probably knew the Callahan boy was back in town and looking to sell his daddy’s ranch.
“Be right with you, hon,” Dolly called as I slid into the booth.
I picked up a laminated menu, though I already knew what I wanted.
