Beck removes his hat. "Howdy, Mae."
Her eyes fall onto me. “And who might this be?”
“Laurel Dempsey, ma’am,” I offer.
“Oh, none of that ma’am stuff with me. It’s Mae.”
Beck jumps in. “She’s helping out with Riot while I’m stuck in this brace.”
Mae nods. “Well, welcome to Hollow Peak, sweetheart,” she says, patting my hand.
I smile. “Thank you, Mae.”
She gestures to Beck with the flip of a dishtowel. "Sit anywhere, honey. Lacey'll be right over."
He steers us to a wooden table by the window with his hand barely grazing the small of my back, and even that contact has my heart going. I sit down across from him and study the menu.
"They make the best chicken salad in three counties," he says. “Bread’s homemade.”
"Mmhm,” I say.
"And the cinnamon rolls'll ruin you for any other cinnamon roll."
I nod.
"Laurel."
I lift my head.
His eyes are warm, but serious. "You okay? You've been chewing on something all morning. You wanna talk about it?"
"No."
"Fair enough." He picks up his menu. "But for the record, if it's about last night?—"
"It's not."
"—I’ve never had such a relaxing bath."
"Beck."
"What? I’d gladly give you more money, if you’d do that every day."
"I will leave you here," I say through my teeth, hoping no one is listening.
"I'd just hobble after you, darlin’, and you know it."
I bite the inside of my cheek so I don't laugh and his grin widens by a degree, smug as a tomcat who got into the cream. Then he goes back to studying the lunch specials like nothing.
"...is that Beck?" Someone says in a hushed voice, as if they’re trying to be quiet.
It’s a woman’s voice. There's a pause and then a second voice, younger, asks who.
"Beck Aldridge. By the window. Don'tstare, Meg."
I keep my eyes on my menu. Beck's facing me, his back to them. He hasn't reacted, but there’s no way he didn't hear. They’re just a few tables away.
The two women continue:
