Page 12 of Recipe for Rivals

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Page 12 of Recipe for Rivals

The door pushed open and Lacey came through, blowing a bubble with her gum and popping it in her mouth. The girl was barely out of high school, but somehow not intimidated enoughby Gigi to refrain from unprofessional gum smacking. Young people were a different breed. Or maybe I was becoming an old curmudgeon and would soon be telling my little footballers how things were done back in my day.

“Where’s Gigi?” Nova asked.

“On the phone.” Lacey walked past both of us and started fiddling with the register. I glanced at the photo on the side of the register and recognized a younger Nova with her arm around Gigi beside a Christmas tree. The picture next to it was of her two kids on a merry-go-round, Nova standing between their plastic horses.

Nova’s eyes slid back to me. “If you want to leave her a message, I’ll be sure she gets it.”

That was one possibility. The other was hanging around until Gigi returned. My head was spinning with all the wedding talk. Colors and food and where to find enough chairs and who would host the bridal shower and so many things that had nothing to do with me. As the best man, it was my job to throw a memorable bachelor party and make a speech, but the rest of it was up to the ladies. Of course, I’d lend my muscle to help in whatever capacity they needed, but that wasn’t the same as choosing themes and deciding between peonies and lilies. I still didn’t fully understand why I had to be here.

“Just pretend to talk to me for a second.”

Nova’s eyes narrowed further. “Is this a backward attempt at flirting? I’m not interested in reenacting a 90s romcom scene where the guy pretends to use the girl as a cover instead of just saying what he actually wants to say.”

There went the final tendril of any belief I might stand a chance with this woman. Not that I wanted to ask her out; she’djustmoved here and she had kids, two major things I didn’t mess with. The first because she’d recently upended her entire life, the second because it wasn’t cool to mess with a mom. Shedidn’t only have herself to worry about. I wasn’t in the market to break three hearts when it inevitably didn’t work out.

Swallowing my frustration, I met her gaze with equal zeal. “I’m not looking for a woman, Nova, so you don’t need to keep throwing your guard up. Can’t a fella just talk to a lady without everyone assuming he wants to get with her?”

Her cheeks went pink, but she didn’t back down. “Pretty sure your signals haven’t been entirely innocent.”

“My signals?” I asked her, planting my hands on the counter that ran between us. “I’ve been nothing but friendly. Welcoming. Good. Neighborly.”

She held my eyes for a beat, hers unblinking. “That’s fair.”

It took great effort not to reveal my surprise. I half-expected her to dig her heels in and insist that when I checked her out in the market, it was anything but friendly. She wouldn’t have been wrong.

In my defense, I was a teaser by nature. Teasing didn’t have to mean flirting.

“My focus in life is two-fold at present: disregarding women and acquiring currency.” Which was true, in a sense. I didn’t want a girlfriend just to have a girlfriend. I’d rather save my money, invest, and prepare for the future so I’ll be ready when the right woman walks into my life.

“It’s been a while since I was single,” she said quietly, likely hoping not to be overheard by the hovering Lacey. “Sorry for jumping to the wrong conclusions. I can send Gigi to chat with you when she’s off the phone.”

“And force me to return to the table? I can’t listen to the debate about butter yellow versus goldenrod for another minute or I’ll throw up.”

“That bad, huh?” She shook her head. “Gigi mentioned you guys are planning a wedding.”

“Best man, at your service,” I said, dipping my head in alittle bow. “My best friend is marrying his high school sweetheart.”

The swinging door to the kitchen shoved open and Gigi came through, looking a little frazzled. Her white hair was a perfectly sprayed curly cotton ball, but her mouth was pinched in a frown. Maybe not the best time to ask for a donation. “Dal is ready for you,” she said to Nova.

“Dusty needs to speak with you about a fundraiser,” Nova said, then slid her gaze to me. “Goldenrod, all the way. Maybe with ivory flowers.”

I nodded once before she looked away and left. It took maximum willpower not to watch her walk from the room.

Gigi’s gaze was hard. “You leave her alone, Dusty Hayes. That girl doesn’t need you badgering her.”

I threw my hands up. “No badgering, Gigi. I swear.”

“You better mean it. I asked if you’d leave my niece alone when I found out she was coming, and you agreed. Don’t forget that.”

Wait, what? “When was this?” I asked, hazy on the particulars. I wasn’t really a drinker—I’d seen what it could do to people when I still lived with my parents—so I knew I had to have been fully aware during the conversation.

She wasn’t backing down. “When you and Tucker came here after the rodeo.”

Ah. It was ringing a bell. That was months ago, and I’d thought she was kidding. “Well, uh…I just want to chat with you about the fundraiser we’re putting on to send our boys to football camp this summer.”

Her face softened slightly. Bingo. “What do you need?”

“It’s a silent auction. Most of the boys on the JV and varsity teams can’t go to camp without assistance, and anything extra will help cover some of their uniform fees for the next school year. If you’d like to donate for the auction, we’d be grateful.”




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