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Hattie saves me from falling deeper into self-disrepair by bringing plates of delicious-smelling, and delicious-looking food in front of us. Pretty sure my pupils just tripled in size. My stomach roars loudly, and I can hear Chasen’s stomach hollow out, too. We laugh about it.
“Miss Hattie, you have outdone yourself.”
“You say that every time,” she dismisses with a wave. “Y’all enjoy!”
“It looks ahhmazing, Miss Hattie,” I say.
“I like this one,” she tells Chasen, tossing a wink she’s not trying to hide.
I feel my cheeks go pink. What am I, fifteen?
I know better. Any thoughts of pulling this cowboy into a barn and letting him ravage me silly have to be shoved aside and saved for when I can be alone with my fantasies.
But then the man goes and says, “I like this one, too.”
