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Austin took Avon’s hand and pressed it to his chest, placing his hand over hers. Pathetic. If he was trying to show off his pecs, newsflash—he had none. I’d single-handedly pushed his car to get it moving again when he was stuck in the snow last year.
Like boots, trucks were mandatory in the Beard. But Austin still clung to his convertible, which he was able to put the top down on for maybe a month or two a year.
Avon laughed, her hand still being held against Austin’s chest, and I groaned with frustration.
“You want to just go get a pizza?” Coulter asked me.
He thought I was pissed about the food taking so long. I was, but my frustration over Austin putting the moves on Avon was stronger.
“She’ll need to wear a hazmat suit if she goes home with him,” I said with a scowl. “Guy’s a walking STD at this point.”
Coulter followed my gaze and then laughed. “You feeling some kind of way about her, Chief?”
I shoved his shoulder lightly. “Feeling like a decent human being who doesn’t want to see Pete’s niece taken advantage of.”
“She looks grown to me.”
“Sorry about that,” Jake said, setting his phone down. “What are we talking about? Grady likes the redhead?”
“You guys are pathetic,” I said, moving my beer aside as I saw our server approaching with our food.
“Sorry about the wait, guys,” she said. “The fries are super hot, be careful.”
Jake had ordered a hot dish, a tater tot casserole he loved that his wife never made at home. His face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning when the server put his plate in front of him. Coulter and I both had burgers and fries, and I took down about a quarter of the burger in a single bite.
“How’s your dad, Grady?” Jake asked.
“He’s doing a lot better. Glad to be out of the hospital.”
“Was it pneumonia?”
I nodded. “Yep, again. They told us when he was injured that he was more susceptible to pneumonia and respiratory stuff, and this is the third time in four years he’s had pneumonia.”
Jake shook his head. “Glad he’s doing better. And remember, one of my foremen lives in that little cabin about a mile from your dad’s place. Anytime he needs his drive shoveled or anything else, all he needs to do is say the word.”
“I appreciate it, but I plow him out when it snows.”
Jake shrugged. “You never know when something could come up. And if you’re working, it’s covered, man. Just let me know.”
He took the first bite of his meal and groaned with satisfaction. “I swear they use my mom’s recipe. Tastes exactly like hers.”
“Why won’t Kristy make hot dish?” Coulter asked. “She grew up here; she knows it’s a thing.”
“Her mom made it so much when she was growing up that she swore she’d never eat it again. Her mom’s not the best cook.”
I chanced a look over at Avon and found she was looking directly at me. Our eyes locked for a couple of seconds and I felt that pounding sensation in my chest again.
Austin approached her table with a tray loaded with drinks. I couldn’t tell exactly how many there were, but it was too many for a guy with good intentions.
I finished my food and pushed the plate aside. My next look at Avon revealed she, Harper, and Austin were all about to do shots.
She had every right to get as drunk as she wanted and go home with whoever she wanted. I knew that. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d looked at me after I pulled her out of the way of the oncoming car she hadn’t seen. She’d been stunned, but I’d also seen something else in her eyes. Something I couldn’t describe, but it was what kept me from walking out of The Hideout.
“Dolly Parton,” Jake muttered as he looked at his phone screen. “Kristy’s at her mom’s house and her car won’t start. I have to go.”
Coulter slid some cash onto the tray with our check, saying, “I’ve got it. You assholes enjoy the rest of the weekend.”
“I’m hitting the john,” I said as they both turned toward the door. “See you around.”
I walked right past Avon’s table on the way to the bathroom, scoping out the number of empty glasses on the table. There were five or six shot glasses and at least eight full-size ones. Her voice sounded higher pitched than usual, too.
My stop in the bathroom was brief. By the time I got back to Avon’s table, Harper was off talking to someone else and Austin was at the bar buying more drinks.
“Hey,” I said to Avon.
“Oh, hey.” She gave me a bright smile. “These are not my shoes, Chief Grady, so don’t write me a ticket, okay?”
Her cheeks were tinged pink and it was obvious she was tipsy at the very least. There was a zero percent chance I was leaving her here with Austin, even if I had to carry her out of here over my shoulder.
