Page 24 of The Promise Of Rain
Maxine laughed.“I’ve got three boys and Miller to manage.”She flexed her biceps.“I eat my Wheaties.”
“I think you’re swallowing a lot more than that,” Maggie said dryly.
“Maggie!”I exclaimed, laughing.
She groaned.“It’s the pregnancy hormones.It’s all I can think about.”Her eyes ran over the few loaves of leftover bread on the shelf behind me.“I’ll take that phallic-shaped one.”
I laughed and slipped it into a paper bag before passing it to her.“It’s on the house.”
She was, after all, one of my best customers.
“Thank you,” she answered, ripping a chunk off the end and shoving it in her mouth.She swung it toward Maxine.“Want some?”
Maxine shrugged and ripped a piece off.“Who am I to refuse a freshly baked phallus?”She pointed to the two round calabrese loaves.“I’ll take those two tits to go.”
Maggie chortled.“Two tits and a nice, solid, erection.You have any kitty-shaped buns?”
“Stop,” I groaned, even as I started planning.Maybe an éclair with strawberries and cream inside?I snorted at the image in my head.“You both have men at home.”
Not that I’d cared up until this point.
“Speaking of,” Maggie commented, her fingers busy ripping off more bread.“I heard Deacon came into town to see you.”
I shrugged, fighting the butterflies erupting in my chest.“He agreed to steer clear.”
“Is that what you want?”Maxine asked, reaching for Maggie’s rapidly diminishing baguette at the same time as Maggie asked, “Did you ask him to?”
I looked away from Maggie’s hopeful gaze.Instinctively, I knew she’d feel better about her part in our shared tragedy if I found my happily ever after.
Especially if it was with Deacon.
But life wasn’t a fairy tale.
And I was no princess.
“I think it’s for the best,” I deflected.
“For whom?”Maxine challenged.
“Me, obviously,” I snapped.
Maxine blinked a few times then laughed.Wagging her eyebrows at Maggie, she teased, “She bites!”
I rolled my eyes.“Of course, I bite,” I griped.
She laughed harder.“I’ve never once heard you snap or raise your voice!”
A lady doesn’t raise her voice.
“Sorry,” I muttered.“I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
“I think it might be what’s not getting into you that’s the problem,” Maggie muttered, emptying the crumbs from the bottom of the bag into her mouth.
I barked out a laugh.“Maggie!”
“I know, I know.Pathetic,” she groaned, then met my eyes.“I’m not wholly joking though.You and Deacon were hot.”
“And then we were not,” I replied icily, wholly regretting my sudden open-door policy.
