Butterfly Bayou (Butterfly Bayou 1)

“Yes.”

“Are you really interested in me or are you restless again, Armie?” The question came out of her mouth like pure temptation.

Maybe he should play it cool, but there was nothing cool about the way he felt. “I’m madly interested in you.”

She moved, her torso coming up over the table and her face leaning toward his. “Then make a statement. I suspect this place is a gossip hub. They heard the rumor that you spent the night last night, but some people won’t believe you’re interested in the new girl until you show them.”

So show them. The challenge was clear in her eyes. Gorgeous eyes and lips he could kiss for days. His daughter was here, and apparently Noelle had been his shield against several women showing their interest. Kissing Lila with Noelle in attendance would make a statement.

It was one he wanted to make. He pushed his body up and leaned over, meeting those lips of hers with his own. The kiss was swift, but his body lit up the minute they touched.

It felt good to be alive sometimes. He’d forgotten that in the last few years. His world had revolved around responsibility and sacrifice. It felt damn good to want something for himself.

“Dad, eww. Get a room.”

He glanced over and Noelle was grinning his way.

Lila sat back down. “That should do it. I won’t be getting Miranda’s cookies anytime soon.”

Suddenly the idea that everyone was looking at them wasn’t so bad. They were looking at him because he had the prettiest lady in the diner. “That’s a shame, actually. She makes delicious lemon meltaways.”

Her mouth twisted into the most sweetly cranky expression. “They were chocolate chip.”

A little gasp drew his attention and Dixie was standing there. She put his burger and fries in front of him. Dixie seemed to get herself under control as she placed Lila’s salad on the table. “Well, chocolate chip cookies are nice. Sorry. I couldn’t remember if you wanted the eggs and cheddar or not, so I put them on the side. I can take them away if they’re offensive.”

Lila huffed, an irritated sound. “I know her chocolate chip cookies are an insult. I don’t understand why y’all think food can be used as an insult or be offensive.” She took the small bowl of grated egg and cheese and dumped it on top of the salad. “And you forgot the bacon I wasn’t sure I wanted until now.”

Prickly. She was prickly, and he wished that didn’t do something for him.

“Then I will get that for you because I believe in customer service and I am polite.” She turned on her sneakers and strode away.

He was going to have to deal with that prickliness or she was going to be in trouble. “Just a tip—politeness goes a long way around here.”

Her eyes narrowed as she turned back his way. “You’re not always polite.”

He wasn’t. He could be irritable, especially when he was working. “They expect a certain degree of surliness from me.”

“I know Remy can be short with people,” she pointed out. “I’ve heard him argue with local vendors, and no one tells him to smile more.”

He hadn’t actually told her to smile more, but he let that go. “Again, people are used to Remy.”

“And I’ve met several men who were downright rude,” she pointed out.

How did he explain this? “You have to work with the public. It’s different.”

She nodded and he worried he’d fallen into a trap. “Different for a man.”

That wasn’t at all what he meant. “If there was a new male professional taking over the clinic, I would say the same thing.”

But would he? If a new man had come into town, every woman in the county would stop by to either meet his wife and kids or size the new guy up as a potential partner. Had anyone welcomed Lila?

“Sure you would,” she said.

He was on a slippery slope, and he wasn’t sure how to stop from falling. “I was only saying Dixie is very popular in town. It wouldn’t hurt for you to be a little softer around her.”

A sound that was something like a laugh but held no amusement huffed from Lila. “Because she was nice to me? She wasn’t. And let me tell you, the women might be polite, but they’re not nice. There’s a difference. They say one thing and mean another. And how am I not polite? I say please and thank you. I didn’t just then, but she was being passive-aggressive. I’ve been told that’s not a good way to be. I should know because I was that way for years, so I know it when I see it. I have zero fucks to give, Armie. They’re all gone. Those fucks I was born with should have lasted a lifetime, but I used them all up and the fuck tank is empty.”