“Right, sorry.” I stand straight, shoving my hands in my pockets and trying to keep a straight face. “It wasn’t all bad. You’ve got the sexual innuendos down. It’s just your delivery that could use some finessing.”
“You don’t have to sugarcoat it, Walker. I told the man my chicken pooped on my flannel, and I was still planning to wear it,” she grumbles. “He was a solid nine, and my brain just short-circuited.”
I scoff, taking a step back like I’m personally offended. “Please. That wannabe cowboy was a six at best. Besides, we talk all the time, and you never have trouble speaking your mind.”
“That’s different,” she says, waving me off. “We’re friends. I’m not worried about impressing you so you’ll ask me on a date.”
I choke, immediately bringing my fist up to mask it with a cough. If she only knew.
“So…” I clear my throat and rock back on my heels. “What you’re saying is I’m good-looking too, but it doesn’t count because we’re friends?”
Birdie gives me an exasperated sigh. “I may be socially awkward, but I’m not blind. You’re obviously hot. Half the women in town wouldn’t circle you like vultures if you weren’t. Not that I’m one of them… I’m just lucky to have you as my friend.” She fiddles with her name tag, looking anywhere but at me.
I’d be elated that she called me hot if she hadn’t simultaneously cemented my status in the friend zone. To her, I’ll always be Briar’s older brother and the guy she hangs out with when she wants to confide in someone. To hide my disappointment at her inadvertent rejection, I resort to my usual tactic—humor.
“Only half the women in town, huh? Bummer. I was hoping I’d have a full fan club by now.”
Birdie snorts. “Heaven forbid. Your ego doesnotneed that kind of encouragement.”
“Easy, there,” I warn with a chuckle. “I brought you something, but I might have to reconsider if you keep sassing me.”
Her eyes brighten, and she lifts on her toes to get a peek inside my cart. “What is it?”
She is almost always doing things for others, but when she’s on the receiving end, the pure joy she radiates is priceless.
I hold out the paper bag I had in the fold-down seat of the cart. “I swung by the Prickly Pear on the way here and figured you probably hadn’t eaten yet, so I grabbed your favorite.”
Most places in town aren’t vegetarian, but luckily, the diner has a mushroom burger she loves, so I usually bring her one of those and an order of sweet potato fries whenever I stop by.
Birdie gives me a soft smile. “I appreciate it, but what have I told you about bringing me lunch?”
“That I don’t have to do it?”
She gives an exaggerated shrug. “Yet here we are.”
“I think what you mean is ‘thanks for the burger, Walker. You’re my hero.’”
Her face softens as she takes the bag. “It was really kind. Thank you. I accidentally skipped breakfast this morning, so I’m starving.”
I narrow my eyes. “How do you accidentally skip breakfast?”
“The geese staged a full-on revolt because the ducks were hogging the breadcrumbs again, so I had to step in before things got ugly,” she explains, sliding the bag of food behind the counter. “Patrick, one of the male ducks, likes to chase me around the yard when he’s in a mood, and I was not interested in dealing with one of his tantrums this morning. Then Nugget was upset because I forgot her favorite mixed berries and mealworms treat, and by the time I was finished, I was already running late.”
“I brought something else that might cheer you up.”
I grab her tote from the cart that she left at the sheriff’s office yesterday. She must have been in such a rush that she forgot it. By the time I noticed it was still there, Mason had cornered me about the missing video footage, and when I finally stepped outside after he stormed off, Birdie was already gone.
“My bag,” she exclaims, hugging it to her chest. “I was down to my last ten dollars in cash, and my favorite bandana is in there. Thanks so much for bringing it.”
“Anytime.”
When I pull up to the ranch house, Heath is leaning against one of the porch pillars with his thumbs in his pockets, waiting for me.
Technically, we live with our parents, though each of us has a loft apartment on opposite sides of the main house. Briar lives with her fiancé, Jensen and their son, Caleb, in the cottage on the other side of the ranch. They’re in the process of building a home on the property, but it’s taking longer than anticipated.
Even though our places have kitchens, Ma still expects Heath and me at dinner a couple of nights a week, and when she’s off work on weekends, she goes all out for breakfast. It’s the best of both worlds, though sometimes I wish my comings and goings didn’t require a full debrief.
I hop out of the pickup and circle to the tailgate, lifting it to reveal the bed packed with supplies.
