Page 13 of With a Grain of Salt

"Fine," she says, skating past me.

I turn to fire off some more words, but I get lost in the way her jeans hug her body and the way her shirt clings to her skin.

I hate that she smells like sugar cookies.

I hate that she's a widow and untouchable.

I hate her independence when every cell in my body wants to protect her.

I hate that she's off-limits.

Most of all, I hate how my body responds to hers because Claire Kennedy is untouchable.

Chapter 6

Claire

I knew my luck here wouldn't hold out. I knew I'd say or do something that would make the man fire me, but I couldn't keep my mouth shut.

Everything is a rescue.

The monthly book.

The free groceries.

The free cupcakes from Adalynn for Larkin's birthday a few weeks ago.

Even the tips people have been giving me feel like charity.

I don't mind working for my money. I prefer it, but I also know that Adalynn's brothers, Ronnie and Donnie Tate, don't tip Maggie thirty freaking dollars when she brings them beers.

"This is too much," I tell the one standing in front of me. I haven't spent enough time around either man to be able to tell him apart from his brother. On occasion, I'll hear someone reference the other so I know for the night who is who but that advantage is gone once the night is over.

"I promise it isn't," the man says as he smiles down at me.

He's at a respectable distance, but there's still a hint of something more in his eyes.

"Stop," his brother says, smacking the man in the chest. "That won't fix anything. I'm sorry for Donnie's behavior. He's in a mood."

"Seems to be going around," I tell him with a gentle smile.

He shakes his head when I try to hand the money back. "That's yours to keep."

I've kept out of as many people's business as I can manage but I hear more than I'd like to, both working here and working at Raise the Woof, the local veterinarian clinic in town. As with most small towns, the people here know everything about each other, and they don't mind sharing information with the people who might be out of the loop.

Ronnie turns Donnie to face him, and I bolt when he starts speaking to him in a low tone. They're obviously going through something, and despite having lived here for three-plus years, I've never been one of those who will invade someone's privacy to get the latest gossip.

"Can I get a beer?" I turn toward the gentle touch on my arm, my body stiffening when I see Corbin McBride, the vet at the clinic where I work during the day.

"Hey, Dr. McBride."

"It's Corbin," he says with a gentle smile, something he does a million times a day. He never seems annoyed with me.

"Do you want a bottle or tap?"

"You decide," he says.

I know people think they're doing the waitress a favor by asking them to choose, but really they aren't. It's added stress, and it can also compromise my tip on the chance that I pick something they don’t like. It feels like a test, and school was never my thing.

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