Page 32 of Sweet and Wild

“Jesus.” Cash tilts his beer in her direction. “Are we sure she’s not walking funny because she was riding more than a horse out in that field?”

All eyes turn to me, glaring, suspicious, and accusatory. I roll my eyes and sigh heavily. Leaning back in my seat, I place my hat over my face and close my eyes. “Not even if she begged me.”

“Right,” West says gruffly, and the others offer up their opinions that I don’t even have the energy to debate.

I may not like spending time with her, I may not trust the woman anymore, and I may even just hate her a little because seeing her after all these years lets me know I’m never getting over her. But I know one thing for certain—I’m never betting against Lemon Emersyn Winchester again either. Because she never loses. Not when she’s backed in a corner, not when it comes to a battle of wills, and not when it comes to my heart.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Lemon

The bell above the door jingles as I enter and every set of eyes in the Buttermilk Café turn toward me.

“Well hell, as I live and breathe if it ain’t Lemon Winchester.” A woman in a waitress uniform stands behind the counter, hip popped, coffee pot in hand, and I take off my glasses and do a double take.

“Zadie?”

“In the flesh. Girl, where you been?”

I take in her gorgeous mocha skin and deep brown eyes. Her hair is no longer natural but instead worn in brightly colored box braids. She’s every bit as stunning as she was in high school, and I am still just as jealous of her beauty as I always was. Zadie never had to bother with a ton of makeup and perfectly set hair like me. She could have been a damn model if she’d had any inclination to get out of this one-horse town.

I take a seat at the counter in front of her and set my purse on the stool beside me. “I’ve been in New York. I have a gallery there.”

“Yeah, I think I heard that from your brothers, actually. They’re real proud of you.”

I laugh, because I’m not sure we’re talking about the Winchester boys. With the exception of Wyatt, I doubt they’ve missed me all that much, and I guarantee they have no idea what I actually do in New York City. “You mean Wyatt’s been singing my praises, right?”

She purses her full lips. “Nope, West and Wade too.”

I frown, not entirely sure what to make of that information.

“You know I was real sorry to hear about your daddy. I would have been at the funeral, but I had this place to run.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I …” I’m not really sure what to say. I didn’t just run out on Colt and my family twelve years ago. I left my best friend without a word too. “It’s been a long time, Zadie. I’m real sorry I never returned your calls. I just … I needed a clean break.”

She gives me a wistful smile. “Broke a lot of hearts when you left, Lemon Winchester.”

I glance at the diner patrons still eyeing me warily as they pretend not to listen in our conversation. “I’m startin’ to see that.”

“I get it. What happened to you and Colt was just awful.”

I give her a tight smile, but I have no words. What happened between me and Coltwasawful. Maybe we would have gotten through it or maybe we wouldn’t have, but now we’ll never know. I took that away from us. I broke us into a hundred thousand tiny little pieces, and it seems like me coming back made us shatter into a million more.

“I always thought wild horses couldn’t tear you two apart.”

“Yeah, well, now we can’t stand to be in the same room as one another.” I sigh and shake my head. “Enough about me. What have you been doing since high school?”

“Oh, nothin’ much. Just bought myself a diner, is all.”

My eyes grow as round as saucers. “The Buttermilk?”

“Yes, ma’am. I figured it was time to pay them back for all of those milkshakes and fries we ran out on without paying for as kids.”

I laugh. “Oh my God. I’d forgotten all about that.”

“Well Betty hadn’t. She almost wouldn’t sell me the damn place.”

I chuckle and turn to glance at the corner booth we always occupied in our teens. Irene Bennett glares back, and leans in to whisper to Wilma Withington over their coffee and pie. Looking over the rest of the diner’s patrons—several sets of eyes dart to their food or out the window abruptly.Some things never change. I was the talk of the town as a wild seventeen-year-old, and now that I’m a grown woman who has made something of herself, people are still damn talking.

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