Okay, yes, my greeting was a tad on the formal side.
I set a glass of water onto the table. “The chili didn’t scare you off, I see.”
“Ah, so that was your plan.”
“I’d have given you a full bowl and added onions if I didn’t want you back.”
He levies a lingering squint. My words boomerang, pinning me to the wall.
“I’m not saying I wanted you back.”
An upward turn develops around the vicinity of his mouth. “So you didn’t want me back?”
“That’s not what I’m saying either…”
He rests onto his elbows and leans his temple into his fist, one knuckle hooked higher. “Exactly what are you saying, Everly?”
“I’m…”Tragically horrible at flirtation.Which wasn’t even what I was attempting. I stumbled accidentally, backwards no less, into something flirt-adjacent.
I haul the pieces of my wayward self from the four corners and try to cinch them all together. “So. Chili or no?”
A slow-breaking smile nothing short of roguish spreads across Knox’s face. “You know what? I’ll start with another cup—but hold the onions. “They can sure mess up the end of a nice evening…know what I’m saying?”
Is he implying…
Gulp.Pretty sure he is.
I scamper off to my hidey hole, face burning the entire way, and haul Marlene behind the drink station.Payback time. I jab the pointiest part of my elbow into her side, sputtering. “I thought you said he was a nice guy!”
Her brow puckers. “No, I said Cliff was a nice man.” She grips my arms. “What’d he say to you, hon?”
I tell her. She throws her fake blonde hair back and cackles. “Oh, sugar. You are something. How old are you now? Twenty-two?”
I scowl. “Almost twenty-eight.”
She follows up with a downright insulting gawk and shake of her head. “You’re blushing atthat? Why, that’s the tamest flirt I’ve heard in years!”
I do not need Marlene, who’s nevernotflirted with a man, making me feel silly. I am not naïve, nor am I completely inexperienced with men—I only feel like I am sometimes. I stink at flirting and tend to take things overly seriously, another thing Lance counted as a strike against me. He thought my awkwardness was cute in the beginning but then complained I wasn’t playful enough. Yeah, well he was a real—
I stomp my metaphoric foot. Lance does not deserve brain space.
Regardless, I have no plans to flirt with Knox. It’s not like I even want to. Besides, Marlene may have a tiny point about overreacting.
I scoot my face in front of the small mirror tucked behind the drink station. Uncle Charlie allowed Marlene to tack it up years ago. My hair is still a disaster area, and my makeup clocked out with the lunch crowd. I grab a napkin and dab away a mascara smudge that probably melted into its spot while I helped Buck in the kitchen during the dinner rush.
I scoop out a cup of chili and set it on a plate. I add all the accoutrements—okay, Oak, I take your point—and cloak myself in my calmest, most collected air.
Knox’s smile is genuine and minus rogue vibes when I deliver the chili. “Thanks.”
“Sure thing. Are you ready to order?”
His expression turns serious. “I’d hoped for something from the specials board, but all of them sound awfully heavy.”
Yet he ordered Uncle Charlie’s chili? “Yeah, Friday specials are all fried. Fried catfish, fried shrimp. Fried okra, fried squash, fried—”
He laughs. “I get it.” He lays the menu flat, closes his eyes, and swirls his finger in the air before jabbing it onto the page. He peeks. Grins. “I’ll have the smothered steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans.”
“That is an interesting technique you got there.”
