Page 5 of 40 and (So Over) Fixing It
Erin gave the young man her best matronly stare. “And?”
Adrian smirked. “And I can get you a margarita?”
“That better not be a question,” Lily told him.
“Make it a strawberry,” Erin added.
Adrian winked. “You got it. The usual for lunch?”
Erin nodded, waiting until Adrian had headed for the kitchen before turning back to Lily. Who picked up right where they’d left off.
“Why doesn’t it matter?” Lily asked.
It took a moment before Erin could get back to her train of thought. “Ah! Because”—she paused dramatically just to irritate her friend—“apparently I’ve already been claimed.”
Lily spit out her sip of margarita. Erin barely dodged the spray. “Hey, watch it!”
“You’re what?” Lily choked.
Erin giggled. “I’ve already been claimed—by Willard.”
“That crazy peacock?”
“The very one. He’s actually why I’m late. I wasn’t at the job site…” She raised a brow at Lily, who flushed guiltily. “I was at the house, and the damn bird wouldn’t let me out. He’s decided I’m his mate or something. As if he doesn’t already have a harem hanging on his every move. If I don’t manage to sneak out, he can have me holed up in the house for hours.”
“But he’s just a bird.”
“Have you ever seen a peacock get aggressive?” Erin shuddered. “They’re massive, and those talons are not just for decoration.”
Lily nodded mock-thoughtfully. “Still, you can do better than a peacock.” Then more seriously, ignoring Erin’s howl of laughter, “With me and Claire both very much involved with our other halves, now we need to find one for you.”
She knew Lily was teasing, but the thought sent a shaft of something she couldn’t really identify—and didn’t want to identify—through her heart. “God, not you too. Seems like everybody and their brother in town wants to throw some man at me.”
“Sounds dangerous.” Lily giggled, but then her gaze sharpened on something over Erin’s shoulder and she grimaced. “Speaking of…”
“Erin!”
Erin’s heart dropped.
“How’s the food?” Big Rich asked as he came even with their table. The massive former high school quarterback—way back, if his pot belly and the gray in his mustache was any indication—had taken over the restaurant from his grandfather straight out of high school, and though Erin couldn’t fault his food, he knew her in-laws very well, and that meant he had no problems poking into her social life. In fact the only time he came out from the kitchen was when he had someone else to introduce her to. After so many years, she would think he’d learn.
“You know it’s good, Rich,” Erin assured him. The big man smiled down at her like an indulgent grandfather—and since he’d been her husband’s godfather, that wasn’t far off.
From behind his back he pulled her margarita, which she grasped with eager hands. “Plain strawberry today, huh? You girls keep me on my toes finding new flavors to indulge you.”
“I think Abril is the one doing that,” Lily pointed out, waving to the older woman with the long black braid manning the bar across the room. Abril waved back.
“Well, she comes up with the ideas,” Rich admitted reluctantly, practically blushing. “But I source the ingredients.”
“Speaking of which,” Erin put in, “when are we getting some more of that yummy prickly pear?”
“Just got a new order in!”
Too bad Tennessee didn’t allow carry-out for cocktails, or she’d ask Abril for a to-go cup for later.
“So, Erin…” Big Rich rocked back on his heels.
Uh-oh, here it comes.
