“This was a bad idea,” Austin mutters as soon as Marcie leaves. “Everyone’s staring at us.”
I snort, opening the menu even though I’m going to get the same thing I always get. ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ isn’t just my motto for things around the ranch, it’s my mindset for just about everything. If I already know what I like, why risk wasting money on trying something new? Mama calls it pickiness, but I’d say it’s common sense.
“What’s so funny?” Austin asks, drawing my eyes back to her, though my attention had never left. She looks so fucking uncomfortable here, it breaks my heart. Her eyes dart over my shoulder and I know there’s whispering, but I’d bet it’s not for the reasons she thinks. She busies her hands with straightening the sweetener packets in their little cup on the table.
I drop the menu and reach out to pull her hand away from them and hold it on top of the table. She tries to jerk it away and I tighten my grip. “Tex.” She looks at me and her eyes hold mine this time. “They’re mostly looking at us because you’re beautiful as hell.”
She rolls her eyes and scoffs, pouty lips parting to argue.
“Don’t start,” I warn her, but my voice stays soft for her. “They’re used to seeing you in your little jean shorts and cut-off tees, looking sexy as hell behind that bar while you’re feeding them their dicks in a beer mug.”
Her lips quirk, eyes sparking a little bit, and I can’t help but match it. “This dress is killingme, baby. I can only imagine what it’s doing to them. Sure, some of the whispering is because you’re you, and I’m me, and they’re wondering why we’re here together, but the staring is just them wishing they were me right now.”
Austin rolls her eyes again, but her smile is back, and her nerves are gone. “Don’t get cocky,” she warns. “Maybe I’ll get ataste for cowboys giving me free meals and start accepting all the invitations I get to go out.”
I pick up my menu again with a hum. She’s teasing, but she’s also trying to put me in my place—subtle little reminders that this is temporary, casual. They ache, but I get it. I’m not gonna convince Austin I’m worth trusting by justtellingher I am, so it’s just wasted words to try. I’ll just have to keep proving it.
“Well, hello there, Mr. Whittaker,” a pack-a-day voice croons as she slides up to the table. I clear my throat and look up at Mary–Edith Wilder, forcing a polite smile. She’s one of Mama’s old church friends, though Mama hasn’t spoken to her in a few years, I don’t believe.
“Mrs. Wilder,” I nod. Out of the corner of my eyes, Austin presses her lips together, fiddling with the sweetener packets again. This time, it’s to prevent laughing at me though, I think.
“I’ve told you time and time again to call me Mary-Edith, son,” she chastises me, pulling a notepad out of her waist apron. “We sure do miss your family at church. Even the Lord took a day off to rest each week, you know.”
She ignores Austin entirely, which is rude, but bringing her attention to my date would be meaner than letting the woman ignore her, so I don’t say anything about it. “Same amount of work to do on Sundays as any other day. The Lord may have taken a day off, but nature sure doesn't. Are you ready to order, baby?” I ask Austin, trying to get rid of Mary-Edith.
I don’t care for Cedar Creek’s church or much of religion in general, if I’m being honest. If I wanted to follow God again, I’d be better off doing it from a field full of cow shit than a pew full of people spewing horse shit.
Kenny was the only one who went to church anymore, and that was only because she helped with the daycare there sometimes. I quit going when I took over the ranch. Mama, Jameson, Bailey, and Tate left when Colt came out as bisexual and most of the church turned their backs on him. I’d tell Mary-Edith shecould shove her sermon where the sun doesn't shine if it wasn’t for the fact that it’d look bad on Mama.
“Can I have the six-ounce sirloin, medium?” Austin asks, forcing the woman’s attention to her. Mary-Edith bristles, but making a big deal of my dismissiveness would break up this game we’re playing, where we both pretend we like one another because we live in the same small town. “Baked potato and macaroni for the sides, please.”
“Oh, honey… that’s two starches. I’ll give you broccoli instead of the potato. Little changes like that’ll help with your weight,” Mary-Edith replies, writing the order down on her little notepad.
“You’ll give her the damn potato she asked for,” I interrupt, and Austin kicks me under the table. I’m sure she was going to handle it, but I’d rather the old woman’s sourness be directed at me than her.
Mary-Edith gapes for a second before sniffing, pointedly scratching out something on the pad with her pen and re-writing. “I was just trying to give her a little womanly advice, that’s all.”
“She didn’t ask for it. I’d like the same, but ten-ounce.” I close my menu again and take Austin’s from her, passing them to Mary-Edith. “Unless you got a comment on my weight, too?”
She snatches the menus, shoving her notepad back in her apron and turning on her heel without answering me.
“You didn’t have to do that. She’s gonna spit in our food.”
“She won’t,” I disagree. I rake my eyes over Austin, looking for any tells that the woman’s words hurt her at all. I don’t see any, but just in case, “Do you need me to tell you that your body is sexy as hell just the way it is, or do you already know that?”
Austin smirks. “Aware, but it never hurts to hear it, Rancher.”
I run my tongue over my teeth and consider the room around us. It’s not a huge restaurant and it isn’t busy, so there are a couple of empty tables between each group of people. I can’thear anyone else’s conversations, just the low mumble of voices and laughter every once in a while.
I lower my voice just the same. “I’ve had this fantasy since before we even started this thing. You bent over, my fingers pressing indents in the soft skin of your hips, watching your ass move as I plow into you. Fuck, it’s the quickest way to get me hard. Your body is fucking sin, Austin. You can do whatever the hell you want with it and it’ll still be sin, but you damn sure don’t need to lose any weight unless you just want to. That old bird’s advice isn’t worth a pot to piss in.”
My eyes trace her throat as she swallows, shifting in her seat. “Aware,” she says again, a bit more breathy this time. I nod. She doesn’t need me to find her attractive or to tell her that her body is hers, but I’d bet it’s hard to keep reminding herself of it when there’s people like Mary-Edith trying to insert their own opinions all the time.
“Coming home with me tonight, Tex?”
Her eyes narrow at my teasing tone, but I was only poking fun at her obvious arousal because I was worse off. I couldn’t get enough of her lately. When I wasn’t talking to her, I was wondering what she was doing, who she might be talking to instead, why it wasn’t me.
“Nope,” she says, popping the p. “I’ve got a show to do.” Her eyes dart around the room after. It’s a stark difference from the confidence she usually carries.
