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“Grandma,” she acknowledged, eyeing me with a hooded tiger’s gaze. She had her grandmother’s cerulean eyes.
“Cricket, this is Spencer Blackwell and his sister Bridget.”
“Nice to meet you,” she purred.
Roll that tongue up, buddy. Drool is unattractive. Cricket winked at me like she could read my thoughts and I almost fell backward. I smiled. Cheeky little minx.
Yeah, feisty was a perfect word for her.
I watched her bounce on the balls of her feet, smiling, and fiddling with the bottom hem of her shirt. She gestured with her hands a lot. Her fingers were slender and topped with a deep purple. She kept them short. I liked girls with short nails. They looked more feminine to me than when worn long. Her hair shook back and forth when she talked, her short bangs resting across her brows. She would occasionally blow at them then smooth them back down with her hands. When she laughed, she laughed with her entire body, throwing her head back and revealing dimples at her cheeks.
My God, I was so attracted to this chick. I couldn’t even pin it down to one thing. If you took everything I’d ever found hot, beautiful in a girl and piled them into a corner, you’d get Cricket Hunt...standing in a corner.
I stood, staring at her for God only knows how long until Bridge elbowed me. “Did you hear that, Spence?” she gritted.
“I’m sorry?” I asked, genuinely lost.
Her eyes bugged a little at me, silently telling me to get my head in the game. “Ellie was saying that Kalispell’s close by. I was telling her we’d need to go into town for a few things, find a doctor and a bank.”
“Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat, then glancing my way back to Cricket. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. “We need to find a bank and a doctor for Bridge,” I said absently, my eyes finding Ellie then moving immediately back to Cricket.
Bridge rolled her eyes.
“Well, dinner’s right through here,” Ellie added cheerfully. She took Bridge’s arm and guided her down a wide hall, leaving Cricket and me alone.
I smiled idiotically because this girl sucked all the mojo out of me.
“I-uh-I...” Smooth.
Cricket’s eyes widened in disbelief, probably because I couldn’t string a sentence together. She walked the direction Ellie and Bridge had gone.
“Come, boy!” she said, snapping her fingers. I jumped at the order, scrambling to her side as quickly as possible. The large mixed German shepherd fell into stride next to her. She bit her full lower lip to keep from smiling. I nearly facepalmed myself but held back. Now you have restraint? Charming.
“August said you row?” she asked. Her voice spilled over me like warm syrup. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the drugging sensation, then realized she’d asked me a question.
“Yeah,” I answered belatedly. Good. A short answer, but it’s better than mouth diarrhea. “I row...a-uh-boat...with-uh-my teammates.” Superb! Just-uh-superb.
“Do you use an oar?” she teased, biting her lower lip again. I found myself fantasizing I was the one that bit that lower lip. Her mouth distracted me. Answer her!
“Yes, smart ass, I use an oar,” I flirted, grinning from ear to ear because I couldn’t help it.
She smiled back, making me want to worship at her feet. Stick a fork in me!
“This is Useless Eugene,” she said, patting the side of her dog’s neck. “But I just call him Eugie.”
“Where’d he get a name like that?”
“When he was puppy, he took a liking to me and would only follow me around. We couldn’t get him to work unless I was there, and I was in school then. They’d take him out into the field, but he’d just come running back to the house looking for me. My pa called him a Useless Eugene and it stuck.”
“How old is he?”
“Thirteen.”
I looked down at the old boy and noticed a little hitch in his step. I could tell his bones were aching.
We walked into a large dining area with a long wood table and long benches instead of chairs that could probably sit at least thirty. The ceiling was lower in this room, making it feel more intimate. Along the center of the table laid a banquet. Platters full of chicken fried steak, fried chicken, actual piles of grilled steak and biscuits. There were bowls full of mashed potatoes, creamed corn and green beans with bacon. These people’s cholesterol must be through the roof, I thought, but looked around at the few already seated. There wasn’t a single overweight person there.
“If you worked twelve hours a day, burned approximately three thousand calories in those twelve hours with the sheer labor involved, you’d need dinners like this,” Cricket said with a smirk.
