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“You have a wisecrack for everything, don’t you? Pull in at the pharmacy.”
Blue wished she’d kept a leash on her tongue. Hearing more about Nita’s relationship with the good women of Garrison would have been a nice distraction. “I thought you were going to the bank.”
“First, I need you to pick up my prescription.”
“I’m an artist, not your errand girl.”
“I need my medication. Or is fetching an old lady’s medication too much trouble for you?”
Blue’s mood sank from dejection to misery.
After stopping at the drugstore, which had a WE DELIVER sign prominently displayed in the front window, Nita made her run into the grocery for dog food and All-Bran, then stop at the bakery for one banana nut muffin. Finally, Blue had to wait while Nita got a manicure at Barb’s Tresses and Day Spa. Blue used the time to buy a banana nut muffin of her own and a cup of coffee, which used up three of her last twelve dollars.
She peeled back the tab on the cup lid and waited for a silver Dodge Ram truck to pass so she could cross the street to the car. But the truck didn’t pass. Instead, it braked, then angled in front of a fire hydrant. The door swung open and a familiar pair of gay boots emerged, followed by an equally familiar set of lean, denim-clad legs.
She succumbed to a ridiculous moment of giddiness before she frowned at the gleaming truck. “Don’t tell me.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Where the hell have you been?” Dean wore a biscuit-colored cowboy hat and a pair of high-tech brushed metal sunglasses with yellow lenses. A few hours earlier, he’d been her lover, and that made him a walking, talking road hazard blocking the highway that made up her life. From the beginning, she’d given him little pieces of herself, but last night she’d handed over a major chunk, and now she intended to get it back.
He slammed the door. “If you wanted to take a bike ride this morning, you should have woken me up. I was planning to ride anyway.”
“That truck is yours, isn’t it?”
“You can’t have a farm without a truck.” Heads were starting to poke up in store windows. He grabbed her arm and drew her against the side panel. “What are you doing here, Blue? You didn’t even leave a note. I was worried.”
She rose to her toes and planted a quick kiss on the side of that belligerent jaw. “I needed to get to town to start my new job, and my forms of transportation were limited, so I borrowed the bike. You’ll get it back.”
He yanked off his sunglasses. “What new job?” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me.”
She pointed her coffee cup toward the Corvette roadster across the street. “It’s not all bad news. She owns a great car.”
“You are not painting that old lady’s dog.”
“My current net worth isn’t enough to cover one of your tips at McDonald’s.”
“I’ve never met anybody so obsessed with money.” He shoved his glasses back on. “Get over it, Blue. You’re giving money way too much power in your life.”
“Yeah, well, as soon as I’m a multimillionaire jock, I’ll stop doing that.”
He yanked out his wallet, peeled off a roll of bills, and stuffed them in the side pockets of her jeans. “Your net worth just took a turn for the better. Now where’s the bike? We have things to do.”
She withdrew the money. A stack of fifties. Her jaundiced face stared back at her from his yellow lenses. “What exactly is this for?”
“What do you mean, what’s it for? It’s for you.”
“I gathered that, but what did I do to earn it?”
He knew exactly where she was headed, but he was an expert at throwing touchdown passes off the wrong foot, and he let one fly. “You spent all weekend in Knoxville picking out my furniture.”
“I helped April pick out your furniture. And I was more than adequately compensated with great meals, a first-class hotel, and a massage. Thanks for that, by the way. It felt terrific.”
“You’re my cook.”
“So far, you’ve eaten three pancakes and some miscellaneo
us leftovers.”
