she’s anxious to be busy.”
“I’m going in,” she repeated emphatically.
Justin decided he’d better not argue with her. He’d seen evidence of this stubborn streak before, and after growing up with a whole clan of control freaks, he knew better than to take her on over the inconsequential stuff.
“Just don’t burn the coffee.”
“You can’t burn coffee.”
“You can if you forget to put any water in the pot. Ask Sharon Lynn. She has firsthand experience.”
“When she was distracted by the wedding preparations?”
“Oh, yeah. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. Suffice it to say, you will always be regarded as something of a savior of the public health in this town.”
She tilted her head. “Is that how you think of me?”
“No way, darlin’.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear, chuckling when her cheeks turned bright red. “That’s how I will think of you from now on.”
“Well, I certainly hope you’re the only one who feels that way.”
“I’d better be,” he concurred. He leaned down and delivered a hard, quick kiss that made up in intent what it lacked in passion. It was meant as a final reminder that she was his now. The dazed look in her eyes suggested he’d gotten his message across.
“See you in a while,” he said.
“Justin, we are going to keep quiet about this, aren’t we? For now, at least?”
He grinned, knowing the futility of it. “We can try.”
She sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
* * *
The whole blasted town was jumping to conclusions. Patsy realized it when half a dozen people asked very pointed questions that morning about her dinner with Justin and none of them had even witnessed the warm, personal greeting he gave her when he stopped by for a quick cup of coffee just before nine. Nor had most of them seen the way she’d brightened at his entrance. No, indeed, their probing had been sparked by something else entirely.
Thoroughly embarrassed at having her private life made public, she mumbled evasive answers to the prying questions and retreated to the back room at Dolan’s every chance she got. Obviously Justin had known what he was talking about. There hadn’t been a chance in hell of keeping anything secret in this town. It was all too reminiscent of being the wife of a promising political candidate.
“Hiding out again?” Sharon Lynn inquired, peeking through the partially opened door.
“I am not hiding out.”
“Sure you are. Can’t say I blame you. The folks in Los Piños do like their breakfast served up with gossip.”
Patsy sighed. “What I can’t figure out is how they even knew Justin and I were having dinner last night.”
“That’s a no-brainer.”
“Explain.”
“Did you shop at the grocery store?”
“Of course.”
“Enough food for two, maybe something a little special, like thick steaks?”
She began to see where this was heading. “Yes.”
“Did he bring you flowers?”
“Yes, but—”
“Did I cover for you in here yesterday afternoon?”
She got the picture. “Oh, good grief,” she muttered impatiently. “Am I going to have to buy food in the next town before I invite him over again?”
Sharon Lynn grinned. “It won’t help. We have sources there, too.” She sat down on a stack of boxes. “So, tell me, how did it go?”
“We had a great time.”
“Did you sleep with him?”
“Sharon Lynn!”
Her friend—and his cousin, she must never forget that—grinned impudently. “Never mind. I think you’ve just answered that question.”
“I did not.”
“That bright pink color in your cheeks did.”
“Maybe I was just embarrassed that you would even think such a thing.”
“If you’re trying to persuade me I’m wrong, it’s not working. Justin couldn’t look me in the eye and give me a straight answer, either.”
“You asked him, too?”
“Well, of course I did. I love both of you. I want this to work out.”
“Then maybe you should just leave us alone. Knowing there’s a fascinated audience panting for a play-by-play won’t help.”
“If you think I’m nosy, wait until you run into Grandpa Harlan.”
“Did I hear somebody mention my name?” the very man in question called out. “Where the dickens are you, girl? You hiding in the broom closet like your mama and Cody used to do?”
Patsy sent a panicked glance toward the door. “I am absolutely not going out there.”
“Of course you are,” Sharon Lynn said, clearly eager to throw her to the wolves—or one wolf in particular, at least. “Your break’s over. Mine’s just beginning.”
Before Patsy could argue that point, the door pushed open and Harlan Adams poked his head in. He was evidently tired of waiting