He tucked the phone under his chin so he could shovel underwear into a box. “Yes, ma’am.”
“She bake biscuits?”
“Dunno.” He pushed his guns under the bed then shoved his travel bag under too, listening to Mamie think as loud as a few other women he knew.
“You ain’t asked her,” she said.
“Already got a freezer chock full of ’em. Didn’t see any reason to.”
“Interesting.”
Stick his head on a platter and call him toast. Mamie had that tone again. That Mamie-on-a-mission tone.
“Thought you’d be bowling tonight,” he said. He dumped a stack ofAir Forcemagazines in the closet.
“Me and the girls are taking a night off,” she said.
Jackson straightened. “Everything okay, Mamie?”
“Nothing you need to be worrying over. Got a little bit of a sore shoulder after all that firing yesterday. I’ll put some ice on it and be better right quick.”
“You sure that’s all?”
“Had a few more hunting questions, but I can call you back later. You go on and have some fun now. And don’t forget protection.”
Didn’t matter how many times she used that phrase over his lifetime, still made him wince knowing Mamie knew what was going on in his head. “Yes, ma’am.”
They disconnected. There was still too much junk piled on his dresser, but he’d made a clean path to the bed and it was made. He sucked in a breath, double-checked he had unexpired protection, then headed back to the kitchen.
He turned the corner, and Anna’s phone beeped. She was still propped against the counter. A sweet smile curved her lips up. She noticed him and treated him to ayou silly guylook. “Cute,” she said.
“Wasn’t me,” he started, but she’d apparently already figured that out.
Because when she looked down at her phone, her smile dropped away, her eyebrows knit tighter than a sweater, and her whole body went rigid as an armadillo’s armor.
He had a feeling he wouldn’t be needing that protection now. He approached her slow, as he would a wounded deer. “Okay, Anna Grace?”
“Yeah.” She sucked her lips into her mouth, staring at the floor.
“Rain check?” Being the gentlemanly thing to say didn’t make it what he wanted to say.
Her eyes squeezed shut. “Sorry.” But she lifted her head and looked straight at him, and he saw something else he wasn’t used to seeing in Anna Grace.
Whatever that message was about, it had her spitting mad.
Only two things he knew of that caused a woman to look like that, and since she didn’t have any babies to protect, he was betting it was a man. But she wasn’t railing at Jackson, so he took that as a good sign she might bake him another pie sometime.
Might give him a gander at her peaches one of these daystoo.
He gestured to the cabinet under his sink. “Got some Windex if it’d help.”
A smile broke through her anger, but she was still simmering. “Don’t think it’ll squirt that far, but thank you.” She crossed the room, went up on her tiptoes to brush his cheek with a sweet little peck, then stepped away. “Thanks for dinner too.”
“You going to Lance and Kaci’s wedding?” he asked, and then wanted to kick himself.
Both because taking a girl to a wedding went against his religion, and because he wanted her to go with him anyway.
She bent to pet Radish. Her doe-eyes were headlight wary. “I—I suppose I’ll see you there.”
