She giggled. Willow was an artist and could create magic with a pad and pencil. She had long caramel hair, lovely lavender eyes, and he now counted her as a friend. He had a lot of those in this town, most of them paired off. He wasn’t a paired-off kind of guy anymore, no matter how hard his sister and friends tried. He’d tried and failed, and now admitted that had made him gun shy.
He pushed thoughts of Lani from his head. One night was all they’d had, and he’d woken wanting more, which was a strong indication he needed to keep his distance from her going forward. Of course, he’d just thrown her at Mrs. C, so there was every possibility he’d see her around, but he could handle that. They’d just wave and nod, no need to make more of it. That night would be forgotten soon.
In about a hundred years.
“It’s funny to watch Buster get all flustered. Can you imagine what he’s going to be like with the baby?” Willow said, smiling.
Noah shuddered. “I’m running if he starts singing nursery rhymes You’ve heard his voice, right? It would scare every rodent out of hiding.”
She punched his arm. “My husband has a lovely voice.”
“So it’s true then. Love is blind.”
He opened the door to The Hoot Cafe, which Buster and Willow owned. “In you go, heffalump.”
“Are you calling my wife a heffalump, Harris?”
Buster Griffin wasn’t as tall as Noah, but solid, with a bull neck and sweet baby blue eyes. Like most of the men in town Noah called friend, this one had gone to school with him. Then he’d left, to return when he was done exploring the world.
Howlers always came home to roost.
“She is a heffalump.” Noah lowered Willow gently into a chair.
“You try calling me that, and I’m dropping you.”
Annabelle Gelderman walked in behind him with her husband. More friends. This one was tall, elegant, and had a classic beauty that never aged. Close to her due date like Willow, she wore a pink dress that seemed to float around her. Pregnancy suited her, but he wouldn’t tell her that. Annabelle was feisty, determined, and had a killer left hook. In her current condition, he was never sure how she’d take a comment.
“My feet fit in Ethan’s shoes, and my ankles are like tree trunks.”
“Moan, moan, moan.” Her husband pulled out a chair beside Willow and helped her into it. “She’s just all bent out of shape because she saw this hot—” The word ended on a moan as Ethan received an elbow in the gut from Annabelle.
“You said she was hot,” he wheezed.
“I don’t want you commenting on that fact.” Annabelle folded her arms over her belly.
“Jesus, I wish there was a rule book for this shit,” Ethan muttered.
Born in Texas, the man had come to Howling as the military buddy of Jake McBride, another friend of theirs. He’d then fallen in love with the firebrand who’d elbowed him.
Ethan took two steps back out of striking range. Tall, blond, and Noah guessed average-looking, Ethan had a slow drawl and loved his birthplace with a passion. On his head was a Longhorns cap.
“See your boys fell again last night,” Noah said. “You should back a winning team.”
“I’m ignoring that piece of BS. It’s just a slump. Plenty of time to make the playoffs.”
Noah and Buster scoffed.
“Now, as I was saying, my wife looked at the woman, who she said was hot, in a pretty dress, and said that she used to look like that.”
“When did she see this hot woman?” Noah asked. “And why didn’t you point her out, seeing as I’m the only one who can engage in conversation with said hot woman?”
“About half an hour ago,” Tex said, “and you weren’t around, so how could I point her out?”
“It was probably when I was playing Prince Charming.”
“You could do it, to be fair. You’re charming, and I’d go with Prince,” Annabelle said, looking Noah up and down. As he was used to her, he withstood the look. “Your beard makes you look a little on the tough side and adds an edge to your appearance. What do you think, Willow?”
“Yes, he carried my groceries, so I’ll go with that. Who were you playing Prince Charming to?”
