Page 21 of Hand Picked
Webb lifted his eyes to mine. He looked… cautious, I decided. But that was fine. That wasgreat. I could work with cautious. I was feeling pretty cautious myself.
Katey snagged an empty coffee mug from a nearby table and thumped it down in front of me. “Pot’s there.” She pointed toward the carafe in the middle of the table.
“Okay. Thank—”
“Everyone else already ordered. What can I getcha?”
“Well, I—” I darted a glance at my menu, which was still tucked under her arm.
“Pancakes?” She tapped her pen against her order pad like she was writing a period. “Figures.”
“I… I guess it’ll be pancakes, then,” I called after her. “Great! Thanks!”
Emma pushed the coffeepot toward me with a grin. “Don’t mind her. Katey likes flirting with Webb,” she explained. “She doesn’t like that Webb doesn’t flirt back.”
“Em,” Webb warned. “Leave it.”
Emma grinned back, unrepentant. “Just sayin’. You could throw the woman a bone every now and then, for the sake of—”
“Emma. Carbury. Sunday. The breakfast table isn’t the place to talk about your brother’s bone-throwing,” Drew scolded, nearly making me choke on my first sip of coffee. Then he added pointedly, “Or really long-standing lack thereof.”
“Enough,” Webb said firmly. “Katey’s a great person, but there’s no chemistry there. Also, she strikes me as the marrying type, and I amnevergetting married again. Been there, done that.”
Hmm. Katey was pretty, if you were into sassy blondes. I wondered why there was no chemistry.
I wondered who hedidfind attractive.
And then I wondered why the hell I was wondering, ’cause it was sure as heck none ofmybusiness.
“Morning, Sundays.” Jack Wyatt, the owner of the diner, clapped Webb on the shoulder in greeting. His eyes sparkled with humor as he turned to me. “Luke.”
“Oh, God.” Webb rolled his eyes grumpily. “Just say it.”
“Say what?” Jack was a picture of innocence.
“Whatever the hell’s got you wearing that constipated goldfish expression. Go on.”
Jack spread his hands innocently. “It’s called asmile, Webb. Can’t a man just be happy? It’s a bright, sunny morning. My friends and neighbors are gathered under my diner’s roof. Helena Fortnum and her friends are staging atopless knit-in down at town hall today because they feel the mayor’s not taking their concerns about the development seriously.Topless octogenarian knitters, Webb. So much to be happy about.”
Webb lifted an eyebrow. “You’re a strange, strange man.”
Jack’s grin widened. “Okay, Ialsomight have just heard a rumor a little while ago that a pair of handsome gents—including my own best friend—were causing a ruckus on the common last night.” He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet like a little kid.
“Jesus, you’re the worst gossip ever. Luke and I had a couple drinks and watched hockey. That’s all,” Webb scoffed.
“Together?” Drew looked between us delightedly. “So you two have buried the hatchet?”
“Better than that.” Jack wiggled his eyebrows. “I heard they were blowing each other’s bugles right on the town common.”
“Don’t be an ass,” Webb scoffed.
“Don’t be silly!” I said at the same time, inadvertently making our denials sound very… rehearsed.
Webb shot me a dark look, but the eye roll he directed at Jack was light and easy. “Luke and I happened to be at the Bugle at the same time. We… talked.”
“Resolved some misunderstandings,” I elaborated.
“Yeah. Had a drink or two, possibly three—”
