Page 17 of Peacocks

Just then, Lane came hustling out of the back, staring down at his phone. “Pete, call Stef Holmes and let her know Fluffernutter will be ready for pickup at—” He came to a halt as he caught sight of me and smiled sweetly. “Hey.”

Did that smile make me look as goofy as I felt? “Howdy, neighbor.”

“These two,” Pete muttered before typing the customer’s number into the phone keypad.

“Everything… okay?” Lane asked. His cheeks had turned a dusty crimson that made my stomach tighten.

“Oh, sure. Yeah. I was just…” I stopped and shuffled my feet. “In the neighborhood and thought I’d drop off some snacks. Youknow, in case you had any peckish… clients. Not a big deal.” I gestured to the snack packs on the counter. “Anyway, I’ll be on my way now.”

“Wait, uh… wait.” Lane hesitated and then glanced at the snacks as if trying to figure out what he wanted to say. “Carrots! That’s strange, I was just craving carrots last night.”

Now, I was the one shuffling my feet. “Were you? Huh. I hadn’t noticed,” I lied. “I just grabbed whatever was closest.”

“Fucking Christ,” Pete muttered.

“Hey, Lane, are you—oh!” Alva came out of the back, pulling on her white coat. Her eyes lit up when she saw the Oreos. “Snack time!” She twisted her wrist and checked her watch. “I hadn’t realized it was eleven already.”

This entire situation was cringe, and it reminded me of why I was never going to be the kind of guy Lane Desmond could be proud of. I had absolutely no chill.

“Gotta go,” I said before bolting for the door.

Lane called after me again, but I didn’t stop. Things were too good between us to risk fucking it up by saying something stupid in front of Lane’s coworkers.

Or somethingmorestupid, anyway.

I just… liked being with the man, that was all. And the hours between leaving him in the morning and greeting him in the garage tended to drag. I’d end up thinking about how good it felt to kiss him, and wishing I could see the smile on his face.

I worried sometimes that things were getting too good. Too… serious, at least on my part. And that was a problem.

Even though I’d lived in the Thicket my whole life and there was no place I’d rather be, I’d learned pretty early on that folks—well, men—didn’t wantseriousfrom me. They wanted a fun night, a few laughs, and some screaming orgasms.

It had never bothered me much since I hadn’t been after anything serious myself, but with Lane…

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dunn Johnson asked when I slunk into the Partridge Pit to pick up some ribs after finishing my shift at the Suds Barn.

If Lane didn’t want me turning up on his doorstep with food, I could at least deliver it to his doorstep before he returned home. That way, I’d still ensure he was properly fed after his long workday, and he wouldn’t have to see me or feel obligated to give me a pity invite inside.

“Nothing’s wrong, why?”

Dunn lifted his boot and used it to shove out the chair opposite him at one of the wooden tables. “You look miserable. Bad day at work? Tell Uncle Dunn all about it.”

I threw myself down in the chair with a sigh. Dunn’s husband, Tucker, eyed the two of us as he approached with a couple of cups full of icy-cold sweet tea. “Hey, Jay. You hungry? Want to join us for an early dinner?”

I shook my head. “Nah. Just put in an order for some ribs for later. How’s it going at work? Ms. Vienna came by the car wash with her station wagon the other day and said things have been busy on account of the flu going around the school. I figured you’ve been run off your feet.”

Dunn waved his hand to keep Tucker from answering. “He’s fine. Flu’s normal this time of year. Stop changing the subject. How’s that fussbudget new vet?”

I stared at him in shock. “Lane Desmond is the furthest thing from a fussbudget! He’s a… a… he’s a… damn it,what is the opposite of fussbudget?”

“Nonchalant?” Tucker suggested. “Easygoing? Relaxed? Carefree?”

I stared at him, and he blushed. “Sorry. I, uh… I like crosswords.”

The look Dunn gave him was so filled with love and pride I had to look away. “He’s being modest. Tucker Johnson knows more words than anybody.”

Tucker’s blush intensified. “Drink your tea and hush,” he said fondly. “Anyway, you like Lane just fine. You brought Bernadette to see him.” To me, he explained, “That’s about the highest compliment Dunn can pay a person.”

Dunn made a grumbling noise. “The man called her mypet, Tucker, when anyone knows a pig islivestock.”

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