Mack groans, “The fact you’re forced to have coffee at a bar and grill amplifies the sad state of Oak Grove’s slim eatery pickings.”
“I know, right?” Sadie gets that familiar gleam in her eye that usually spells out trouble. “The only other option is Pine Crest Bakery, and it’s disgusting in there. Every time I go in, there’s a fly hanging around those depressing looking confections. The floor is a toasted linoleum from the fifties that actually offends me, and the enamel furniture is chipped and rusting. God forbid you cut yourself while pulling out a chair. You can get lockjaw and never enjoy a real fresh cup of coffee again.”
“Why are we analyzing the sad state of java in Oak Grove and not focusing in on the fact Conner found someone to eat a steak with?” I’m thoroughly confused.
“Because.” Sadie bounces her shoulders to her ears. “The ink just dried on my divorce, and I get my lump sum settlement—50K.”
Sadie is perhaps the one and only person in Oak Grove who’s ever signed a prenup. Peter Hervy, her official first ex-husband, is a land baron she met in Denver. Apparently, the payout of a one-year gig, in which she used him for little more than a personal sit and spin, garnered her a nifty lump sum.
“Fifty thousand?” I clasp my chest. “Geez. Why did I move to L.A. when I should have run to Denver and landed the first Perv I saw horizontal?” I give a little wink. “What are you going to do with the money, honey?”
“Invest.” Sadie does sparkle when she’s getting her green on. “Inmyself. I’m going to open Oak Grove’s first coffee shop and usher us into the new millennium—roasted espresso style.”
“Sweet.” Mack gives her a high five. “Now that the kids are in school, I’d be happy to be your first barista.”
Sadie and Mack whoop it up like they just won the latte lottery, and in a way they did. Oak Grove really can use a nice cup of fresh brewed heaven.
I tap the back of my fork to the table. “So back to Conner.” My brother has had his fair share of women. He’s a less sexually aggressive version of his BFF Jax, but just as appealing to the ladies because he’s handsome, if I don’t say so myself, and he touts a mean legal degree. “Who is this hussy?” I suck in a breath at my bestie. “Is it you? Are you the hussy that’s dating my brother?” The words practically burst from me with pride. I know that Sadie and me will always be close, but to have her as my official sister-in-law one day would be magic.
The waitress brings our food and Sadie’s less than lackluster mug of coffee, and we all frown knowingly at the desperate state of java in our small town.
“It’s not Sadie.” Mack shakes her head. “Conner’s shiny new toy is Larissa Debeers.”
“Larissa?” All of those feel-good vibes I was sending Sadie’s way hit a brick wall. “But she’s Jaxson’s ho. In fact, she’s probably waiting in the wings for me to fly back to L.A. so she can latch onto his ankle and beg him for another ride on that pogo stick he’s got in his boxers.”
“Jaxson’s ho?” Mack looks disgusted at the thought, as she should. “It’s one thing to share your toys and a whole other to share your bedmates. He can’t sleep with her if she slept with Jax.”
Sadie nearly blows her coffee out of her nose. “That crosses out ninety percent of the eligible girls in Oak Grove.”
Mack gets squirrely at the thought. “Maybe we should ship Conner off to L.A. for a while?”
“Maybe you should stop playing matchmaker.” I stab my fork in her direction before taking a bite of the best Chinese chicken salad this side of Los Angeles. Starry Nights really is a culinary treasure.
Her phone buzzes, and she groans into it. “I gotta run. Ben has a fever, and I need to pick him up from school. Would you box this up for me and drop it by the house?”
“Not a problem.”
She throws on her jacket before leaning in to kiss me goodbye. “Perfect! And no getting M.C. Hammered with Jaxson Stade. I bet his mattress is harboring something far more exotic than bedbugs. And, honey, I’m a damn good matchmaker.Andper my matchmaking rules, no sleeping with anyone until he puts a ring on it. It only leads to broken hearts and prenups.”
“Amen to that,” Sadie shouts as we wave my sister off.
I needle my gaze at my longtime friend. “You really believe that?”
“Darn right.” Sadie salutes me with her stale coffee. “But a girl’s got needs.” She sinks in her seat as she cradles that sad looking mug, and suddenly we’re both lost in thought, seemingly equally depressed over said needs.
“Confession.” I blow the hair out of my face. “My vagina hasn’t had a gentleman caller in nearly a year. If I don’t find a willing penis soon, I’ll have to scale down to a silicone model.”
“Trust me, they’re so lifelike you won’t know the difference.”
“My heart will.”
“If you’re looking to satisfy your heart, then Mack is right—you risk getting it broken.”
Tears come, and I’m quick to blink them away. I shake my head in lieu of words because there’s a painful heart-shaped knot sitting at the base of my throat.
I hate that Jaxson still has the power to take my emotions, my will, my better judgment for a ride without any consideration for my beating heart. That’s always been our downfall. I care too much, and he seems to care too little.
“Hey”—Sadie pulls my entire seat closer to hers—“maybe Mack is right. Maybe sleeping with Jax is a bad idea. Your head is a little too much into this whole thing. It’s still a joke, right?”
