When she got to the kitchen, she headed straight to the trashcan. Unfortunately, before she reached it, she tripped over the warped bump in the linoleum and the Eggos slid off the plate and landed on the floor. The weenies stayed in the bowl, but the ketchup sloshed onto the front of her uniform.
“Crap on a cracker!”
“More like cheese on an Eggo.”
She whirled to see Jaxon standing in the doorway, looking down at the mess she’d made. She hated people to see her messes. Which probably explained why her voice was so snippy.
“Did you need something?”
His gaze lifted. “There was no reception planned, was there? You and your granny pulled this together on the fly.”
“What makes you say that?”
He glanced down at the cheese-and-Eggo mess and one side of his mouth lifted. “Just a hunch.”
The thought he was laughing at her brought out her stubborn streak. She quickly set the bowl of weenies in the sink before kneeling down to clean up the mess on the floor.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Cheesy Eggos are a delicacy in our family. And if I can’t get you anything, you should probably head on back to the living room and thank all the nice folks for coming to console you.”
She kept her gaze on her task and waited to hear the click of retreating boot heels on linoleum.
Instead, those boots stopped only inches from her bent knees. Like his truck, there wasn’t a scuff or speck of dirt on them. Which annoyed her even more. She struggled to keep everything clean. Her boots. Her clothes. Her patrol car. If there was a pile of cow or dog poop within a hundred miles, she’d step in it. She end up with stains on her shirts and not know how they got there. Drive through muddy puddles, even in drought season. And as for her apartment, she couldn’t seem to keep up with the laundry and dusting and vacuuming.
Or maybe she just didn’t want to.
Her little apartment was the one place where she could relax and just be messy. The rest of the time she had to be spit-and-polished Sheriff Gentry’s daughter.
She didn’t feel spit-and-polished now.
With catsup on her shirt and kneeling on the floor surrounded by cheesy Eggos, she felt like tattered Cinderella caught in the act of scrubbing the floor by the spotless prince.
She slowly lifted her gaze and her tummy tumbled over and over like a dryer set on high as she took in hard muscled thighs in denim, the slight bulge of a fly, dark-inked forearms, bunched muscle under soft cotton, and finally the half-smirking lips.
“Family delicacy?” He crouched down next to her and peeled an Eggo off the linoleum, holding the mangled cheese-covered waffle up in front of her. “This?”
She snapped out of whatever spell he had cast and jerked it out of his hand. “Don’t judge until you try them.”
A dark brow popped up. “If they’re such a delicacy, why did you hide them from the church ladies?”
Since he’d caught her red-handed, there was nothing to say. She turned from those knowing eyes and went back to picking up Eggos. “You don’t have to help. I got this.” She froze when his warm fingers curled under her chin and turned her to face him.
His eyes glittered with anger. “Let’s stop playing games, Tully. We both know frozen Eggos with pimento cheese isn’t a family delicacy. They were just some crap you pulled together for the ignorant Hennessys. Just like we know that the folks out in the living room aren’t here to console me and my brothers. They’re here because your grandmother forced them to be. And I want to make it perfectly clear that we don’t need anyone’s fuckin’ pity . . . or their shit Eggos.”
His fingers didn’t hold her chin tightly. In fact, his pointer finger and thumb only lightly rested against her skin. All she had to do was move her head an inch and he’d no longer be touching her.
So why didn’t she?
Why did she remain perfectly still as if his touch had turned her into stone?
Thankfully, she could still talk. “It’s not pity. It’s called proper etiquette.”
“Oh, so now you’re saying that we Hennessys don’t understand etiquette.”
“I’m not saying anything of the sort. I’m just saying you need to get the chip off your shoulder and accept what folks are offering.”
Those honey eyes darkened and his fingers tightened on her chin. “I don’t have a chip on my shoulder.”
“I don’t know what you’d call it. You’ve always acted like everyone in this town is out to get you.”
