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The interruption yanked me off cloud nine and back to reality.
Jude leaned over the table and lit the tea light. “Glad to see you two out on the town.” He shot me a meaningful glance that said he approved.
Nope. It still felt weird having Jude encourage me to date anyone, let alone catch me sucking face with someone. I tried to force a weak smile.
“Everything is progressing nicely for the closing on Blue Star thanks to Cameron and you.” Wilson recovered the power of speech before me. He stood and shook hands with Atley and Jude in greeting. The men each gave me a smile and a nod. I returned the greeting from my seat while I collected my scattered brain cells.
I’d noticed them at a table near the bar having dinner when we came in. Jude and Atley were a bit of an odd couple. Their friendship, I assumed, was based on business--not that ranching and real estate had much in common, but money was money.
“Thank you for replacing me and my fourth divorce as the best gossip in town.” Jude tucked the matches into his jacket pocket.
“On the other hand, he’s not your biggest fan this week, Phillips.” Jude hooked a thumb in Atley’s direction. The ranch manager only shook his head. “Your comments made the local radio station this morning.”
“Really? Damn it. I asked Jimmy Ray not to.” That man was off my holiday card list for this year. And I’d tell Lara to water down his Jack and coke for the next month. Punishment fits the crime. He’d promised.
“The local radio?” Wilson looked at the three of us. “You’re not serious. Elmer has its own station? That’s awesome. How did I not know? So cool.”
“Yeah, not cool. Jimmy Ray did an entire hour of call-ins asking how Elmer thought Wilson Phillips planned tooverutilizeBlue Star once he bought it.“ Atley rubbed a hand down his stress-lined face. “This kind of PR will not help the ranch.”
“Stupid small-town gossip.” Jude, who’d dealt with far more of it than I had, looked pissed.
“It’s got to get fixed.” Atley shoved his hands in the pockets of his good jeans, the dark-washed pair with creases ironed down the front, and looked thunderclouds at his soon-to-be boss.
“I saw a poster for a campaign to build an addition on the library. I can fund that. How much do they need?” Wilson reached for his coat pocket like he wanted his checkbook.
“No.” I caught his arm and stopped the movement.
“That’s writing a check, not apologizing. Huge difference. As a man who’s been divorced four times, trust me on this. Money isn’t enough.” Jude shook his head.
“So what? Volunteer at the senior center? Or the donkey rescue?” Wilson tossed up his hands, almost bumping an empty wineglass on the table.
Atley grimaced.
“Oh, I have the best idea.” The men all waited for me to explain. “I need to make a few calls tomorrow and check with Kate.”
Wilson groaned hearing the producer’s name. I didn’t know why. The last shoot at the Historic Charmer had been exceptional. Once Stephen had worked his magic, we’d been flawless in front of the cameras. The chemistry we’d had in the past returned with incredible results.
“We only have one taping left. It’s at the swimming hole in a few days, right? Last I knew, Kate wanted to get your brother and the other deputies shirtless or something.” Wilson straightened the silverware I’d left askew on the table.
“Oh, this is better than shirtless men. So much better.” It would be an epic grovel. Grandma would be so proud of me for thinking of this. I was a genius.
“It needs to be big, Cami; people aren’t happy with your man.” Atley’s often grim expression looked even more dire. It wouldn’t kill him to find some joy in his life.
“Am I ever wrong?” I gave them all my best pageant-winning smile.
“Never. Now let’s leave the lovebirds to it.” Jude waved Atley toward the door as the server came to take our order.
The meal was all the things a perfect date should be from that moment on. We talked, laughed, and ate good food. We drank delicious wine, something from France I’d never have picked but would dream about. The night was lush and long. The candlelight and wood paneling reminded me of a moody oil painting.
While Wilson signed the check—Yeah, I offered to pay my part, but he wouldn’t let me. I tried to get upset but found I couldn’t do it. I knew, as a modern woman, I should pay my way, but something about the way he asked to cover the whole check melted my heart. He was good at that. Or maybe it had been too long since I had been on a date with a man I wanted to let anywhere near my heart.
I dared a glance at my phone while he calculated the tip. Thirty-seven notifications.
“I think Wanda posted the video.” Astonishingly, no overwhelming jolt of anxiety came with the discovery.
“Of us kissing? Pull it up; I want to see.”
I slugged him in the arm. “Are you a masochist?”
