Page 77 of From Best Friend to Bride
He put on a fake upset face and all but pouted, leaning into my hand.
I sighed, looking away from him. “Fine. It’s nice, all right? Everyone likes to be complimented, after all.”
I felt him smile rather than saw it.
“Duly noted.”
“Please stop flirting in my pub,” Si said, coming back over. “There’s a surcharge for public displays of affection.”
“It’s all him.” I pointed at Fred. “So don’t dock my tips, boss.”
“Oh, now I’m boss? I was ‘you little shit’ earlier.”
“That’s because you fucked up the barrels. They’re damn heavy, and you made me move them.”
“Maybe you should be a kept woman,” Fred said. “I remember when you made me lift them that time.”
I snorted and nodded towards Si. “And leave him alone? He’s not wrong when he says he can’t survive without me.”
Si waved his hand. “Deli’s been moving those barrels since she was eighteen. She could do it with her eyes closed. Heck, she could probably bench press you, son.”
I looked Fred up and down and bobbed my head. “Worth a shot.”
Fred blinked at me for a moment before laughing and shaking his head. “What time do you finish tonight?”
“Eleven. You don’t need to wait up for me if you’re tired.”
“I’m not tired.”
“Liar.” I poked his cheek. “I can see you’re exhausted. You were up at the crack of dawn.”
Fred rolled his shoulders back. “Yeah. Are you sure?”
“Of course. I’ll sleep in the other room if you’re not awake when I get back.”
He paused for a moment, then nodded. “Will you eat dinner here?”
“I already ate. Go home and rest.”
“Okay.” He hopped off the stool and looked at me for a moment. I was about to ask him what was wrong, but before I could, he leant across the bar and pecked a kiss to my cheek.
My face heated, and I pressed my hand to the spot he’d just kissed.
His response to that little action was to give me the biggest shit-eating bastard of a grin he could and leave without another word.
“My, my,” Si said slowly. He craned his neck down to get a good look at my face, and I covered it with my other hand, quickly turning away. “This is new.”
“There’s nothing new about it,” I retorted sharply. “I hate public displays of affection. He knows that. I’m just embarrassed.”
“Mhmm.” He leant around me and grabbed a clean tea towel from the shelf, then said into my ear, “You keep telling yourself that, sweetie.”
“I think I want a pet cow.”
I looked up from my book. Nana was leaning against the fencing, staring dreamily out at Granny’s fluffy cows in the field.
“Do you think it’d pull my wheelchair along? Like those sled dogs do.”
“Um.” I had absolutely no idea how to respond to that. “Can cows be trained?”
