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But I shook it off. This was my domain, and I reigned supreme. I knew what I was doing. And I didn’t have feelings to hurt, to consider, or to even manage. Which was why I was so perfect for this job.
The bell over the door dinged when I entered. I was met with Hank Williams and the hum of the breakfast crowd, the smell of bacon and coffee in the air and the clink of silverware against plates.
I took a seat at an empty booth by the window and picked up a menu from the condiment caddy, skimming it for something that sounded good, which ended up being all of it.
“Hey, sailor,” came a raspy voice from my elbow.
I looked up to find ninety-year-old Bettie herself standing at the end of the booth, pouring my coffee with a smirk on ruby lips and a T-shirt that read Oh yes I can. She’d knotted it at her waist, sporting a pair of wide legged black slacks and, if I wasn’t mistaken, a pair of red Converse.
I shot a smirk right back at her. “Morning, Bettie. What’s farm fresh on the menu today?”
A laugh slid out of her. She propped a hand on her hip and gave me an approving look from behind chunky red glasses. “So you knew that was me, did you?”
“You can assume I know everything.”
“Everything, huh? That’s a mighty statement.”
“It’s my job to know. Particularly who wants to humiliate me on live television.”
“Well, you handled it like a pro.”
“Also in the job description.”
She made an amused sound. “Is handling bees in your job description too?”
“Only this time. Anyway, Jo handled the bees. I wasn’t allowed to touch anything.”
“Look at that. You’re not even surprised I know.”
“It’s a small town. Of course you know.”
“I heard your ass looked great in that beekeeper suit. Surprised I know that?”
“I wondered if she took a picture of that. Did she send it to the group text?”
“Honey, I’m royalty around here—she sent it straight to me.”
It was my turn to laugh as she watched me with a curious smile on her face.
“What are you doin’ with her?”
It wasn’t an accusation, which surprised me.
“Proving a point.”
“Sure, sure—but what are you really doing with her?”
Poker face firmly in place, I answered, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do. You don’t put a straight man who looks like you and a hetero girl who looks like her together without something happening.”
“How do you know I’m straight?”
“Touché.”
“I promise you—my intentions are good.”
“That, I seriously doubt,” she said on a chuckle. “I’d just remind you of two things. The first is that she’s not gonna flip for you, so if that’s your angle, you’d best rethink it. And second is the advice I’ll give for you to watch your ass. That girl is beloved by this town, and if anything happens to her? Well, if you think you’ve been trolled by all those signs in your yard, I’m here to warn you that you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. So be good, cowboy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Now, what am I feedin’ you, kiddo?”
“Biscuits and gravy, thank you.”
The bell over the door dinged, and we both looked to the sound, greeted by the sight of Jo.
Her hair was loose and long, shining as bright as her eyes and her smile as she strode in, looking to the counter for a friendly face. When she didn’t find one, she scanned until she found Bettie. And subsequently, me.
Her smile faltered, though not in dismay, only surprise. Color smudged her cheeks.
“Let me get that started for you,” Bettie said with a smile of her own before swinging by Jo, leaning in to whisper something that made Jo giggle. Their eyes darted to me.
I laid a hot look on her that would have split an iceberg, a look that told her she didn’t want to fuck with me, lest I devour her. The color in her cheeks rose higher. But rather than shrink away or go back to her business, her chin rose, and she sauntered over like she owned the place.
“Well, howdy there.”
I sat back in the booth and reached for my coffee. “I didn’t realize people actually said howdy anymore.”
“If you’re under eighty, it’s only a novelty.” She leaned on the other side of the booth, folding her arms and looking down her nose at me. “You recover from your bee trauma yesterday?”
“If you think that was trauma, I wonder how charmed your life is.”
“And if you think that’s the worst I’ve got to dole out, you’ve got another think coming.”
“Bring it on, Blum.”
“Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“You keeping this one a secret too?”
“No, because you need to go get some appropriate clothes.”
One of my brows rose.
“That’s right. You’re going to Cavanaugh’s to get yourself some jeans and boots. And a hat if you’re smart. Otherwise you’re gonna get fried working cattle on Wyatt’s ranch.”
