One Chance, Fancy (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 5)

I frowned. “Then why is she still working there?”

He shrugged. “Not many people want to work in prisons.”

That was true. I’d heard that the nursing job I’d applied for had been open for over eight months. I would think it’d be even harder to find a doctor.

“Oh,” I said. “Do you have the job posted?”

He nodded once. “Diane switches out her shifts with two other doctors.”

“Meaning there’s not always a doctor on shift?” I questioned.

He shook his head. “No. Sometimes there’s a double nurse shift, and sometimes there’s a nurse and paramedic shift. Sometimes there’s just a nurse and a guard. It really depends on the time of day, though. When the inmates are supposed to be sleeping, that’s when we go down to the nurse only.”

“Oh,” I paused. “That one actually sounds like fun. Working with Diane was stressful today. And she had all this work we could be doing, yet she saved it until I was about to leave. I could’ve easily helped her with it, but she wanted to do it on her own…I have a feeling it’d be more exciting and easier to deal with stuff when I’m on my own.”

“That shift is the late one. Seven in the evening until three in the morning. You can try all the shifts before you decide which one suits you best.” He paused. “I usually leave Diane’s shift without a nurse because she’s so bossy and doesn’t like the help anyway.”

That made sense.

“What shift do you want me working next, and when?” I asked, realizing that I hadn’t found that part out before I’d left.

The waitress came back with our drinks before he could reply.

“Coke.” She placed Bayou’s down in front of him. “And Dr. Pepper.”

I immediately tore into my straw, expertly peeling the wrapper away so that it’d fly off the end well and did what any normal Mackenzie would do. I shot the straw wrapper at Bayou.

It hit him in the forehead, and he looked up at me with amusement written all over his face.

“Really?” he questioned.

I shrugged.

“Can I get y’all anything to eat?” the waitress asked, her eyes staying focused on Bayou and not once turning to me.

I should’ve been offended. I really should’ve.

But I wasn’t.

I couldn’t look away from the man myself.

“Yes,” Bayou answered.

We both waited for him to order, but I realized rather quickly that he wasn’t going to order. He was waiting for her to be ready.

That, and she’d asked him a question and he’d answered. Had she worded the question like ‘What can I get y’all to eat’ he would’ve answered with his entree choices.

I felt my lips twitch. “I want the vaqueros tacos with a salad and brussels sprouts.”

“There aren’t any brussels sprouts on the menu,” Bayou muttered.

My brows rose.

“Been here much?” I teased.

He shook his head. “No. I just have a eidetic memory. I can tell you everything that’s on the menu now. Brussels sprouts weren’t one of those things.”

I felt a grin tugging up the corner of my mouth.

“Is there anything green on there, that’s also not high in carbs and or calories?” I asked.

He answered instantly. “Green beans and asparagus—as long as you tell them to hold the bacon bits.”

I turned to the waitress. “Can I have the asparagus, sans bacon bits?”

She nodded once, writing furiously on her notepad without once making eye contact.

“And you?” The waitress looked over at Bayou, definitely trying to make eye contact with him, but failing miserably when he wouldn’t look up.

“And me what?” Bayou asked.

“Can I get you anything?” she beamed.

“Yes,” he answered again, just like last time.

I barely kept the laughter contained in my chest. “What are you getting, Bayou?”

“I want the chicken fried steak with a side salad, ranch, mashed potatoes, hold the gravy on both. I want that on the side,” he answered quickly.

He winked at me, causing my heart to start rapidly beating in my chest.

God. The man was lethal!

“Excellent,” she said. “I’ll get that right out.”

And by right out, she meant ‘right out.’ It was out in less than five minutes, and I was a hundred percent surprised because there were at least five other tables that had been there long before us, and had yet to get their meals.

When she was placing the food down in front of us, I was watching Bayou. He grimaced and started to shake his head.

The gravy that he’d requested be on the side was on his potatoes and leaking toward his chicken fried steak.

I could tell he wasn’t going to eat it the moment she set it down in front of him.

But, when the waitress asked if everything looked okay, he answered with a nod.

I held up my hand. “Wait. He wasn’t supposed to have gravy on his potatoes. It was supposed to be on the side.”

The waitress blinked as if she couldn’t understand words that didn’t come out of anyone but Bayou’s mouth, and then turned her gaze in Bayou’s direction. “I’m sorry, honey. I’ll get that fixed for you right away.”