“If that’s the worst thing you ever did,” I cut in, “I think you can still sneak by those pearly gates, just fine.”
“I can’t say it’s too bad of a hobby,” Tammy said. “I think it probably kept you out of more trouble than it caused.”
“I’ll stick with that.” My stomach growled, reminding me of why I had brought her here. I glanced at Clover and said, “And it’s still the best little diner in the city.”
“Did you want your usual?” Tammy asked.
“Yes Ma’am,” I confirmed.
“Sure thing.” She turned to Clover. “And what about you, honey?”
Not having had time to look at the menu, Clover picked it up and glanced at it briefly before handing it back. “I’ll have whatever Beau is having.”
Tammy leaned in a measure closer to Clover, giving her full attention. “You sure you don’t want to find out what that is?”
“I’m fine.” She held Tammy’s gaze, but her brows twitched, revealing she was having doubts.
Tammy took the menu from Clover and called the order out as she walked away. “Alright then, two smothered hashbrowns cooked with extra bacon fat, four eggs fried in bacon fat, fried bacon, and a side of toast with extra butter.”
I waited for Clover to voice an opinion about the bacon fat, but she simply shrugged, saying, “It has to be better than those zombie balls.”
An instant chuckle sparked from my lips as I knew exactly what she meant. “I’m glad you admit that your idea to eat that food was a bad one.”
She giggled, resembling a child who refused to confess to having her hand in the cookie jar. “I only admit it because I got caught.”
That left me grinning like a possum. It took us a while to get to this point, but although I’d known her for a couple of weeks now, I felt like I was finally meeting the real Clover. She put on a thick exterior—all guarded and tough—but once she let that down, she wasn’t so bad. I was starting to grow fond of the person across from me. I also wanted her to know it when I said, “The food was the only bad part.”
That made her flip her flirtin’ eyes back on. Actually, she’d hardly put them away all night. They had been beaming away like she had forgotten where her dimmer switch was. “I had a good time too . . .” Her voice was soft and fluffy sounding, reminding me of cotton in the field.
“Alright,”—Tammy swooped in with two hot plates, setting them down. “Anything else you need, just holler.”
“Looks good,” I complimented. I waited to see if Clover would wrinkle her nose, or say anything, but she dug right in and didn’t even fight a pleased grin that sprouted on her lips. I never met a person who could eat these hashbrowns and not love them. “It’s good, ain’t it?”
“Really good.” She hummed out while chewing.
“Now”—I quirked my head in a teasing manner, trying to get a rise out of her— “Can we agree that from now on, I get to pick the food when we eat?”
Her brows dipped defensively. “Just because there was one bad—”
“Two,” I spoke over her, fully being playful as I lowered my voice and tacked on, “Remember the bird place?”
“Oh yeah. That was a little bland, wasn’t it?” She did her little nose scrunchy thing I was beginning to get used to. “Okay, you are right. You can totally pick the food on our next date—” Her eyes sprang wide like a sinner in church. “I mean—not date. But you know? When we eat for work things.”
I should not have taken pleasure in watchin’ her fumble over her words, but I had learned more about how she was feelin’ in the last ten seconds than I had in the week. Instead of coming to her rescue and saying I knew what she had meant, I stayed silent, wanting to hear what she would accidentally blurt out.
“I mean, this clearly wasn’t a date,” she added while giving me a strained expression.
I should have agreed, but she wasn’t exactly innocent with all her flirting. It was my turn to let her struggle.
I leaned back, straightening my spine as I took a long look at her. “And if it had been a date, what would you have done differently?”
“Well,” she started strong, ready to defend herself, but her voice quickly grew hesitant. “Um, well, I’m . . . For a date, I usually.” She blew out a large breath, then added, “Well, it doesn’t count because I had to get dressed up and stuff because this event was—it was work.”
“Right. And you had to dance with me like that. For work?” I trapped her eyes, loving the flushed glow on her cheeks.
“No!” The pink on her cheek instantly washed clean and now she was pale as a ghost. “Youwere dancing with me like that!”
“Look at the pot calling the kettle black.” I chuckled, amused by how the queen of being able to talk herself out of situations was all of a sudden backed up on her words.
