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Logan’s lips twitched. “Poker on Friday? You’ll be here?”
“Oh yeah. Probably.”
“Good. Bring snacks. And cash. We don’t usually bet much—except for M&Ms—but it makes things more interesting if we have something to up the stakes.” He gulped his coke and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “We men need to stick together.” He glanced at Michael’s hand. “Not married?”
“Uh, no.”
“Be careful, then. People are pairing off around here like crazy.”
Michael’s eyebrows shot up. “That sounds ominous.”
Logan laughed. “It’s not so bad as that, just don’t let the Bridge Club get to you.”
“The what?”
“You’ll figure it out soon enough.”
Utterly mystified, Michael wandered outside, just in time to be accosted by two elderly ladies who barely reached his shoulder.
“Michael Briggston!” one of them exclaimed, absolutely delighted. She rubbed her palms together, then smoothed them over her fluffy white hair. “I was so hoping we’d run into you.”
He decided not to ask how she knew his name. “Pleased to oblige. And you are?”
“I’m Betty,” she said, taking the other woman by the arm. “This is Nell.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Nell said, beaming up at him. “Do you mind answering a couple of questions to clear a few things up?”
The back of his neck prickled. Had someone found out about his family’s history with Bex? He couldn’t think why else these ladies would need him to clear anything up. Were the locals gossiping already? Clearly the grapevine was in good working order.
“Ask your questions, and I’ll decide whether I want to answer.”
Nell nodded, her expression serious. “The first one is easy: are you married or in a relationship?”
Michael frowned, caught off guard. “I’m single. Why?”
Betty clapped. “The best kind.”
“Excuse me?”
She cleared her throat, and scanned him from head to toe. “Are you gay or straight?”
Well, of all the intrusive… “That’s really none of your business.”
“Oh, but it is, you see,” Nell hurried to explain. “We’ve started a new sweepstake on which young people will pair up, and we’d like to know where you fit.”
“You’re betting on who’ll date who?” he asked.
“Exactly.”
They didn’t seem to have any idea how strange that was. Despite himself, he wanted to smile. His lips twitched, but he made an effort to straighten them into a line. There was no need for Betty and Nell to know they amused him. He sensed that would only encourage the old biddies.
“From where I’m standing, it seems like it would be more interesting for you to work it out yourselves.”
Nell pursed her lips. “Oh, but—”
“No, he’s right, dear.” Betty patted her arm. “Think how much more fun it will be to spy on this young fellow and see what he gets up to.”
Dear God, what had he brought on himself?
