Ah, but if Dustin was going down, he’d take Monica with him. “On one condition.”
“What?”
“You be my second.”
“Bastard!”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He leaned forward, elbows on the desk, resting his chin primly in his hands. “I’ll need every ounce of ‘bastard’ I can get to pull this off. But I won’t, I repeat, Iwon’texploit Seth McDaniel. However, I did promise I’d go out to dinner.”
“Nookie!” Monica chortled.
“Catching up on oldtimes.”
“Call it what you want. Just go get some. You’re turning into a grouch.”
Determined to do the right thing, Dustin dialed Irene’s number. Seth answered the phone on the second ring. “Hello.”
“Look, Seth, I want to apologize for running off.”Yeah, apologize, a good place to start. Dustin swore he heard Seth blushing on the other end of the phone line.
“Umm… about that.”
Dustin’s heart fell, his carefully rehearsed words curling up and dying a slow, agonizing death on his tongue.
“I have no idea what came over me, Dusty. I truly don’t. I’m not one of those guys who goes around hitting on anything that moves.” The use of Dustin’s nickname offered some reassurance of no hard feelings. Seth attempted some levity, as he’d done in his younger days to relieve awkwardness. “I usually make a guy wine me and dine me first.”
A knife twisted in Dustin’s belly, but he made his offer anyway. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m calling to take you up on your previous suggestion of dinner. Yes, I’d like to wine you and dine you, umm… no strings attached.”
An odd sound emerged from the phone’s tiny speaker, half laughing, half choking. “But I like strings! Sorry, I’m not helping. You’d like to take me to dinner?”
“Yeah. Possum Kingdom may be a small town, but we have some of the best barbeque you’ll find anywhere. What do you say?” Dustin held his breath. Seth seemed to take forever to answer.
Finally, Seth let Dustin off the hook. “I can be ready in a half hour.”
“I’ll be there.”
Dustin hung up the phone to find Monica watching him with amusement in her eyes, and he couldn’t fight a grin. “Don’t wait up,” he chided.
She knitted her brows together, a line forming between her narrowed eyes, and leaned down, nose mere inches from Dustin’s. “Remember, if you’re notinby ten”—she pulled her lips back from her pearly whites in a somewhat feral grin—“then take him home and find another date that puts out.
“Speaking of….” She hopped off the desk. “I’d better get going. Even if you can only manage lukewarm,I’vegot a hottie waiting for me.” She spun on her heel and flounced from the room before Dustin managed to stop gaping.
Chapter 8
SETHwould never have found the quaint little restaurant without Dustin’s help. Way off the beaten path, The Pitted Pig still managed to attract a lively dinner crowd. Where had all these people come from?
“Where would you like to sit?” Dustin asked, a plateful of steaming pulled pork in his hands.
“Wherever there’s a table.” Seth’s stomach growled, taunted by the rich scent of hickory-smoked meat, the tangy notes of barbeque sauce making his mouth water. He did love good barbeque.
“Do you mind sitting outside?”
“No. Lead on.” Seth admired the view on his trip through the crowded establishment, and if forced under duress to find his way back to the entrance, would have failed miserably. His vision honed in on slender shoulders, a narrow waist, and a well-made backside as he and Dustin navigated tables and tray-laden wait staff on the way to the door at the back of the dining room.
They passed table after table of couples and families, many nodding, murmuring, “Jack” at Dustin’s passing.
Seth decided if that was the way the town rolled, his was not to question.
Finally, Dustin opened the door onto a covered porch holding roughly a dozen tables, mostly empty. “It’s getting close to sundown, when the mosquitoes come out,” Dustin explained. “During lunch rush it’s hard to find room out here to sit.”
