She supposed she and Flynn also looked like two sides of a coin. Which meant their relationship would make sense to everyone in town.
A few cars began to pull into the parking lot, and Danielle took her place at her table, while Jessie took her place at her own.
“Eat a cinnamon roll,” she said to Flynn.
“Jessie Jane, have you noticed that I don’t take orders well?”
“Well, you’re supposed to, because you’re supposed to be my boyfriend.”
“What leads you to believe that even as a boyfriend I would take orders?”
He was not wearing a flannel shirt. In fact, in spite of the relatively cold weather, he was wearing a tight black T-shirt that outlined his muscles, and a pair of blue jeans. He really did choose violence today.
“Probably the reason you aren’t actually anyone’s boyfriend,” she huffed.
“Probably.”
But he did put a cinnamon roll onto a paper plate and pour a cup of coffee.
Right as the first person was about to walk by, he took a bite of the cinnamon roll and made a noise that verged on obscene. She felt it, in her stomach, between her legs.
“Good,” he said.
The word skated down her spine, made her fingers feel loose and languid.
She looked over at him, and their eyes met. She couldn’t breathe. “I’m glad you like it,” she said, knowing she sounded wooden and strange. Knowing she sounded like someone who cared an awful lot that someone liked their cinnamon roll, and maybe even got turned on because his response to the cinnamon roll was hot, and she was only a girl.
But then she had to focus, because a woman was standing there holding a toddler, looking between Danielle and Jessie.
“Hi,” both Jessie and Danielle said at the same time.
“I’m running for mayor this year.” Jessie rushed to get that last part out before Danielle could say anything.
“You’re running?” the woman asked, stepping toward Jessie Jane’s table.
“Yes, I am,” said Jessie. “I truly believe that I can effect some good change in this town. If you don’t feel like your needs have been represented, consider the alternative. A more unorthodox choice.”
“Your family does the Wild West Show, right?”
“Yes. We do.”
“I’ve never been to it.”
“Come out sometime. Kids love it. There are lots of games. And we have food trucks and all kinds of fun things. You can get a sense of who my family is.”
“You’re the outlaws,” she said.
“That’s right,” said Flynn. “They are.”
“Oh. Flynn.”
Flynn looked momentarily confused. “Yes,” he said. “Flynn Wilder.”
“I know,” the woman said with a bit of reserve.
She gave Jessie Jane a warm smile as she began to leave the table.
“You can have coffee. And a cinnamon roll and a lemon bar,” Jessie offered.
