Logan nodded at his friend’s plate, “is just depressing.”
Hud shrugged his wide shoulders. It had been more than a decade since they’d played ball together, but the burly mechanic looked like he’d just stepped off the field. “I like eating healthy.”
“Uh-huh. That’s why you eat lunch here every day?” Logan took another oversized bite of his sandwich. “Has nothing to do with a certain waitress?”
Hud’s gaze locked on his plate. “No way.”
Ellen, the waitress in question, stopped by the table, their ticket already torn off and ready to be slapped on the table. “Anything else?”
Logan swallowed his automatic response, pausing to give his buddy a chance to engage the former Hamilton County Miss Soybean in conversation, but the only sounds were from the other customers’ conversations. He waited another few beats, but Hud just kept shoveling food into his mouth.
“Looks like we’re good.” Logan handed Ellen two twenties. “Unless there’s pecan pie?”
She chuckled. “You wish.” She took the twenties and turned her attention to Hud. “How about you? Need anything else?”
Like a horny twelve-year-old boy faced with a Victoria Secret’s model, Hud clamped his jaws together and gave her a thumbs up. Ellen shrugged and weaved her way through the crowded diner to the front register.
Logan shook his head. “You are a moron with shitty taste in food.”
Hud flipped him off. “Not everyone wants to go all bam-chica-wow-wow in a bank vault, you know.”
How many times did he have to relive the same fucking gossip shit storm? “I already explained—”
“Yeah, yeah. You have bigger problems than small town gossip right now.” Hud leaned forward. “Tyrell Hawson brought his Caddy in for a tune-up this morning. I overheard him on the phone telling someone that if the meeting with the developers tomorrow night didn’t go well, he was going to pull his support.”
“Fuck.” Logan rammed his fingers through his hair. “If Tyrell backs out, so will the others. I’ll be left with letters of intent to buy property and no funds to purchase it with. The deal will crash and—”
“Trouble ahead.” Hud jerked his chin toward the diner’s front door.
Miranda stood with her sister and chatted with Ruby Sue, who sat in her regular spot behind the register. Though Miranda and Natalie were two parts of the nearly identical Sweet triplets, only Miranda made his palms sweaty and had him questioning his sanity on a regular basis.
The ass-hugging pair of black pants she wore today reminded him of the lacy black panties that had haunted his dreams since that afternoon in the bank vault. He’d bet the bank that the soft pink of her sweater would match the rose of her nipples that had hardened under his tongue. Part of him stiffened at the memory of the jasmine perfume she’d worn and how her body had responded to his touch. He shifted in his seat, unable to look away from her. If he didn’t get ahold of himself soon, he’d pop the zipper on his pants.
Ruby Sue said something, Miranda laughed, and the warm sound of her happiness spilled down his spine, warming his body. Then, she turned toward the full dining room and the total force of her blue-eyed gaze hit him straight on, slamming against his body like a linebacker with a grudge.
He knew the moment she spotted him, because the smile that curled up the left side of her mouth a little higher than the right dropped into a flat line. After a quick word with Ruby Sue, Miranda and her sister found seats at the counter at the far end of the diner. Natalie shot his table a quick, questioning look, but Miranda only showed him the iron of her spine.
“Damn, I don’t think she’s really happy to see you.” Hud chuckled. “That’s the first time I’ve ever seen a woman shut you down without even saying a word.”
“Glad you’re enjoying the show.” Logan threw back the last of the sweet tea in his glass.
“Suck it up.” Hud
Hud shrugged his wide shoulders. It had been more than a decade since they’d played ball together, but the burly mechanic looked like he’d just stepped off the field. “I like eating healthy.”
“Uh-huh. That’s why you eat lunch here every day?” Logan took another oversized bite of his sandwich. “Has nothing to do with a certain waitress?”
Hud’s gaze locked on his plate. “No way.”
Ellen, the waitress in question, stopped by the table, their ticket already torn off and ready to be slapped on the table. “Anything else?”
Logan swallowed his automatic response, pausing to give his buddy a chance to engage the former Hamilton County Miss Soybean in conversation, but the only sounds were from the other customers’ conversations. He waited another few beats, but Hud just kept shoveling food into his mouth.
“Looks like we’re good.” Logan handed Ellen two twenties. “Unless there’s pecan pie?”
She chuckled. “You wish.” She took the twenties and turned her attention to Hud. “How about you? Need anything else?”
Like a horny twelve-year-old boy faced with a Victoria Secret’s model, Hud clamped his jaws together and gave her a thumbs up. Ellen shrugged and weaved her way through the crowded diner to the front register.
Logan shook his head. “You are a moron with shitty taste in food.”
Hud flipped him off. “Not everyone wants to go all bam-chica-wow-wow in a bank vault, you know.”
How many times did he have to relive the same fucking gossip shit storm? “I already explained—”
“Yeah, yeah. You have bigger problems than small town gossip right now.” Hud leaned forward. “Tyrell Hawson brought his Caddy in for a tune-up this morning. I overheard him on the phone telling someone that if the meeting with the developers tomorrow night didn’t go well, he was going to pull his support.”
“Fuck.” Logan rammed his fingers through his hair. “If Tyrell backs out, so will the others. I’ll be left with letters of intent to buy property and no funds to purchase it with. The deal will crash and—”
“Trouble ahead.” Hud jerked his chin toward the diner’s front door.
Miranda stood with her sister and chatted with Ruby Sue, who sat in her regular spot behind the register. Though Miranda and Natalie were two parts of the nearly identical Sweet triplets, only Miranda made his palms sweaty and had him questioning his sanity on a regular basis.
The ass-hugging pair of black pants she wore today reminded him of the lacy black panties that had haunted his dreams since that afternoon in the bank vault. He’d bet the bank that the soft pink of her sweater would match the rose of her nipples that had hardened under his tongue. Part of him stiffened at the memory of the jasmine perfume she’d worn and how her body had responded to his touch. He shifted in his seat, unable to look away from her. If he didn’t get ahold of himself soon, he’d pop the zipper on his pants.
Ruby Sue said something, Miranda laughed, and the warm sound of her happiness spilled down his spine, warming his body. Then, she turned toward the full dining room and the total force of her blue-eyed gaze hit him straight on, slamming against his body like a linebacker with a grudge.
He knew the moment she spotted him, because the smile that curled up the left side of her mouth a little higher than the right dropped into a flat line. After a quick word with Ruby Sue, Miranda and her sister found seats at the counter at the far end of the diner. Natalie shot his table a quick, questioning look, but Miranda only showed him the iron of her spine.
“Damn, I don’t think she’s really happy to see you.” Hud chuckled. “That’s the first time I’ve ever seen a woman shut you down without even saying a word.”
“Glad you’re enjoying the show.” Logan threw back the last of the sweet tea in his glass.
“Suck it up.” Hud
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