Page 73 of Sundown Somewhere

“That obvious?”

“Only to the woman in your life.” I pull back, looking up at him. “Sit, I’ll make you a plate.”

He does as he’s told, and I scurry into the kitchen, turning the broiler on. I let it warm up, fixing up a dish of cucumber salad before cutting into my latest tester recipe and slipping it under the broiler to crisp up.

“Here, eat.” I slide the plate in front of him, anticipation rising in me. “And here’s hoping you like it, because it’s also supposed to be dinner at the cottage tonight with Gus, Margeaux, and Jace. Although if you tell me it sucks, I’ll have to figure something else out.”

“You made it, so I know it doesn’t suck,” he says, digging in.

I watch him with bated breath, time slowing down to a crawl as I wait for a reaction. And I do mean crawling. Snails have lapped us. The tortoise has taken on the role of the hare, wondering when we’re going to catch up, and I swear I just saw molasses rush by us. The only way it could be moving slower is if it stopped.

“Holy shit,” Hux exclaims, mouth already full, but shoving another bite in with it. “It’s like a Reuben, but…”

“It’s a Reuben bake,” I explain, cutting him off. Something he doesn’t seem to take issue with since it gives him a chance to keep eating. “I found a recipe online and modified it a bit, since I’ll need to make it ahead of time and reheat sections as needed. Either that or invest in mini pans, but at thirty minutes of baking time, I don’t see that going over well.”

“This is going on the new menu, right?”

“That’s my thought. The Reuben sandwich is one of the few I’ll keep. That along with the club and maybe the patty melt.”

“Auggie will have a fit if you get rid of the patty melt.”

I slump against the counter, leaning forward on my forearms. If Hux thinks that I haven’t wrestled with major guilt over the idea of eliminating one of his father’s favorite menu items, then he doesn’t know me. “I am aware, but he’s literally the only person who ever orders one. I’d be better off running to Wright’s and buying a package of ground beef every time he wants one than keeping it on the menu just because.”

“Then off it goes.”

I smile, loving how Hux doesn’t think twice. He might as well be the Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland shouting “off with her head!” for all the consideration he takes in chopping the item off the menu.

“I can always bring it back as a lunch special here and there,” I offer.

Hux shrugs. “Make them some time for Sunday dinner, and you’ll easily be his favorite dau⁠—”

Hux stops himself, shoving another large bite in his mouth. There’s no question what he was about to say. The question is whether or not I acknowledge it or not. Funny enough, even though he stopped himself from saying it out loud, it doesn’t feel as weird as part of me thinks it should. Maybe because I’ve been around the Hayes family for so long and have attended Sunday dinner as Hux’s best friend. Attending as plus one would be different though.

“I dunno,” I say, leaning into the moment. “I’d have to compete with Margeaux’s maque choux. And that’s a Papa Duck recipe…”

Hux narrows his eyes at me, like he’s thinking, debating whether or not my patty melt can compete with the Cajun classic prepared by the granddaughter of a legend. Well, a legend according to me. Having been featured on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, Margeaux’s grandfather’s little New Orleans hole-in-the-wall eatery—as he proudly refers to it—became a hot spot, Papa Duck himself stealing everyone’s hearts. Including mine, resulting in a weekend road trip where Hux took me to New Orleans to see if they would be willing to trade recipes. I was turned down when I got there—by who we know now to be Margeaux’s brother—but a couple of years later when Margeaux showed up in Hickory Hills and started working for Hayes, I got my wish and got to collaborate with Papa Duck.

“Next time we need something, that’s the meal we’re making him. Patty melt with a side of maque choux. He’ll be putty in our hands.”

I’m skeptical, not sure that serving the man his favorites will really get the boys what they want. Especially since I’m pretty sure that the only hand Auggie Hayes has ever been putty in is Miss Belle’s.

“What’s got you all twisted?” I ask, changing the subject.

Hux deflates, letting out a long exhale that makes his bottom lip flap like a horse neighing its displeasure. Oh boy…

“The town council vetoed my project.”

“What?”

I shoot back up, a mixture of shock and adrenaline rushing through me. How is that not the big scandal in town? The town council voting down a Hayes project is unheard of.

“Yup.”

“The two star one?”

“Project: Second Star, yes. Said it wasn’t a good use of town funds.”

I place my hands wide against the counter, leaning forward and making eye contact with Hux. His beautiful hazel eyes reflect back so much, including that he really is twisted up about this.