Page 31 of The Wedding Gift

“Thank you.” She nodded. “All I ask is to be given a choice.”

“I’ll remember that if you’ll leave that gun in the drawer.” He grinned at her again. “So, who’s washing dishes?” He liked her sass and fire, and even though she was a newbie at the bar business, she’d taken to it like a cowboy to a rodeo.

“You can wash, and I’ll dry. I like to have things put away,” she said.

“Me too,” he agreed.

She glanced over at his bed and nodded. “I can see that.”

“Hey, come over here and look what those kids have done,” he said.

She took a few steps forward so she could see out thesmall kitchen window. Standing so close to him that he could feel her body heat, and smelling like something akin to suntan lotion, sent sparks dancing all over the small apartment. A vision popped into his head of her in a bikini playing volleyball on the beach. In the visual, she wrapped one of those see-through scarf things around her waist and flirted with him when she came into his bar to order a margarita.

“That’s amazing. Wonder where they got coal,” she said.

He shook the vision from his head and said, “I think it’s charred wood, probably from a fireplace, but it looks pretty real, and that’s a nice-sized snowman. Look closer.”

Jorja giggled when she realized they’d affixed a beer can to the branch that made Mr. Frosty’s left arm. “I guess he’s a lefty.” She giggled.

“And he likes Bud Light.” Cameron ran a sink full of water and began washing their plates, cups, and glasses.

“He’s not from Texas, then, is he?” Jorja dried the dishes and put them away.

“Why would you say that?” Cameron finished up his job and dried his hands on the end of the towel she was using.

“From what I saw last night, most of these Texans like Coors,” she answered.

“Yep, that and double shots of Jim Beam.” He nodded.

“Look!” She pointed. “The owls are gone, but there’s acouple of possums out there sniffin’ around the snowman.”

“They’re probably trying to figure out why every other snowman in Mingus has a carrot for a nose, and this one doesn’t.” He chuckled. “You ready to tackle the bar and the office now?”

She hung her towel on the rack at the end of the cabinet. “Yep, let’s do the bar first. I’ll gladly sweep and mop if you’ll take care of the chairs and the trash.”

“Are you going like that?” His eyes started at her mismatched socks and traveled up the legs of her faded Rudolph pajama bottoms, and then took in her oversize T-shirt with its picture of Minnie Mouse wearing a Santa hat.

“Yes, I am.” She started across the floor. “We’re going to get sweaty and dirty, so why get cleaned up now and then again before we open the bar this evening? That don’t make a bit of sense.”

“I agree.” He stopped long enough to put on his boots. They might look ridiculous with his baggy shorts, but there was no way he was going into that office in his socks—not when there could be spiders hiding in those piles of papers.

Jorja brought out a mop bucket and filled it with water, then stopped in her tracks, pulled out her phone, and took a picture of him setting chairs on the table.

“Why’d you do that?” he asked.

“If Abigail calls me again, I’m going to send the picture to her.” She picked up the wide dust mop and began to sweep the floor.

“Why would you do that?” he asked.

“So that she’ll know you’re harmless.” Jorja laughed.

“You could have given me a chance to pose,” he teased.

Chapter 5

Jorja heaved a long sigh and then opened the office door. Not one blessed thing had changed since she had found the checkbook to pay for the beer delivery. The place still looked like a tornado and a hurricane had had a fight in the middle of a post office.

“I’ll get a big garbage bag.” Cameron said.