“Now, Malene, don’t you go shooting Willard on such a nice Thursday morning. Don’t you have better things to do, like make me a banana pudding, as you promised?”
A slow smile spread across Malene’s face and she turned, at the same time I did, to see Shane idling in his truck. I hadn’t even heard him drive up.
He smiled and the warmth reached eyes that he leveled on me.Me.Not Malene, the one who was about to become all murderous in town.
Malene’s voice softened, and she slowly lowered the shotgun. “Oh, Shane. I’ve got your banana pudding inside. I made it yesterday.”
“Mmm hmm,” he said dramatically. “I can’t wait to taste it, but I’ll be ticked if I have to hand it over to the church ladies so that folks’ll have something to snack on at Willard’s wake.”
He winked at Willard, who ran a hand over his mouth, hiding a laugh.
Malene’s eyes narrowed. “Willard’s been feeding those birds again.”
“Is there any harm in bird-watching?” Shane asked.
Malene’s hackles rose. “There is when the birds poop on my car.”
“Well,” Shane said casually, as if thinking about it, “how about if Willard promised to feed the birds at the nearby trees and not yours?”
“That would be okay,” Malene said thoughtfully. “But if they poop again, next time I won’t be shooting them. I’ll be heading straight to Willard’s house.”
Shane clucked. “If that happens, you should give me a call first.”
Malene’s cheeks crimsoned, and I swear the old lady was blushing. “Sure thing, Shane.”
“Now y’all two make up,” he commanded. “You’ve been neighbors for too long to let a few birds get in your way.”
“Enemies, more like it,” Willard murmured.
“Don’t you start anything,” Malene said. “Remember, I’m the one holding the shotgun.”
As they moved to make up, I walked over to Shane. “You arrived just in time,” I said, relieved. “I was trying to stop it, but things were getting out of hand.”
Shane tapped his steering wheel. “I heard the gunshots and figured it was Malene mad about something.”
“You were right.”
His gaze made my cheeks hot. Heck, I was no better than Malene, blushing in front of Shane.
I’d known him since I moved to Peachwood a few years ago. We’d always been friends, but there was no denying he was handsome, a real looker.
“About last night,” Shane started, “you sure you’re okay?”
I waved away his concern. “Oh yeah. I’m fine. I’m not the one who got punched or did the punching.”
“Yeah,” he replied, but I could tell Shane didn’t completely believe me. “Look, Clem, if there’s something you want to tell me…”
I grinned. “Nope. Nothing that I can say. I’ve told you everything.”
“When those guys woke up, they didn’t remember what had happened. I asked about the girl, but they were so woozy they could barely form a coherent sentence.”
A rare side effect of my power. Trust me, they might have been forgetful for a little while, but eventually they’d remember. It was a good thing for me that they were truck drivers. Hopefully they’d steer clear of Shane’s Place next time they were in town—no pun intended.
I shrugged my shoulders, playing dumb. “Oh well, I’m sure they’ll eventually remember her strong right hook.”
“Yeah…” We stared at each other for a moment, and then I realized that I wore fuzzy yellow slippers and a bathrobe.
“Oh, look at the time. I need to get going.”
