“The man is a firefighter. He’s a civil servant!”
“That may be so, but he spent so much time looking at your tits he forgot where he was. I’m shocked he didn’t burn himself by dribbling scalding coffee down his chin.”
The world doesn’t have enough eye rolls to respond to that adequately. “Newsflash, Dallas. I’ve got big tits.” When my eyes drop to the girls, his follow. “As your best friend, I might be essentially asexual to you, but they’re not that easy for most mere mortals to ignore.” Hey, if I’m gonna have a fat ass, at least I get nice boobs to go with it. My grandma always said God never closes a door without opening a window, God rest her soul.
I lift my gaze back to my friend, but his lingers on my chest.
“If anyone has the right to look at your tits, it’s your fiancé,” he responds with enough vehemence it has my brows spiking.
“Ah, the irony.” Honestly, how did I get myself into this situation in the first place? Oh, right. My taste in men.
Dallas drops the attitude and leans into the table, setting his coffee down. “Wait, what do you mean, I think you’re asexual?”
I don’t hesitate. “Junior year, Mr. Merchant’s chemistry class. And I quote, ‘You’re probably the only girl in school I wouldn’t dare cross that line with, Shelby.’” Teenage me will never forget that one.
“I meant it as a compliment,” he protests. “And, besides, I only said that because you said I was the last guy on earth you’d ever hook up with.”
I did say that. Of course I did. “For good reason.”
Okay, being Dallas, he can’t help but notice I’m a woman. But it doesn’t mean anything, and it never has.
He doesn’t respond, and I let the silence extend for a few moments until he finally relaxes back in his chair and reclaims his coffee. “Yeah, well, considering we’re still best friends, we turned out to be pretty smart for a couple of dumb high school kids, I guess.”
Billie Mars, one of the staff, appears beside our table, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail and her top tight enough I can tell someone recently visited the piercing parlor in Hornville. “Where’d that hot guy get off to? I was hoping you’d introduce me.” She twirls her pony with her finger like a teenager.
“He had to go to confession,” Dallas deadpans.
I shoot him a quick glare and get busy derailing this line of conversation. “How’s your daddy doing, Billie?”
“Real well.” She nods. “Thanks for asking.” Her father had a heart attack last month, so I’m glad to hear he’s on the mend. “He’s back at work and everything.”
“Probably doesn’t hurt having a sweet daughter like you keeping an eye on him. I know a pretty face always makes me feel better.” Dallas offers a wide smile, his mood clearly shifting as Billie thrusts her boobs out, Brad the firefighter all but forgotten.
She giggles and shoves his shoulder. Thank goodness a customer rings the bell at the counter, or she might climb in his lap next. Talk about awkward.
Dallas sips his coffee, oblivious as a blind man in a strip club. “Seriously?”
“What?” He’s the picture of innocence. No wonder his momma always let him get away with murder.
I gesture exasperatedly to the front counter. “She’s probably going in the back to change her underwear out for a dry pair.” Iignore Dallas’s responding smirk. “You just can’t help yourself. It’s like I said the other night.”
“I’m a flirty person. What do you want me to say? Everybody knows I don’t mean anything by it. It’s not like it’s harming anyone.”
“I could say the same about Elias—or Brad for that matter, even though he hardly had a moment to flirt before you scared him away.”
“He was too busy imagining you topless.”
“Hey, Shelby.” Emilia Davies, a client of mine and a loan specialist at Big Knob’s bank, waves as she nears our table. “Dallas,” she acknowledges my fiancé with a little less warmth.
Happy for the distraction, I smile her way. “Hey, Emilia. Any word on Peaches?” Her mare is about to foal any day now.
“About ready to split in two, I reckon.” A pretty, poised redhead in her early forties, Emilia has always been known for both her friendliness and candidness.
Dallas reaches over from his seat to pull out Brad’s abandoned chair. “Can I ask you a question, Emilia?” When she nods and drops into the offered chair, Dallas continues, “We went out a few times, didn’t we?”
She coughs out a half-laugh. “I might be a little offended you posed that as a question. Although I suppose itwasa decade ago.”
Dallas nods, all business now. What is he up to? “But we had a good time, right?”
