Page 12 of Wanted By You

By the time I’m done, they’re silent until Alison blurts out, “That issohot.”

I laugh. “What is?”

“Um,hello. He beat the hell out of your scumbag ex for putting his hands on you in public,” she says as if it’s obvious. “That’s just so…”

“Hot,” Janice chimes in.

“Yes.” Alison smiles. “Seriously, I woulddieto have a man defend my honor like that. How’d you not jump his bones right then and there?”

“Probably because I drank too much and was having a hard time even properly ordering an Uber.” Which is true, but even as I say it, I wish I would’ve thanked him more than just for making sure I got home safe.

Peggy holds a hand to her heart, her eyes suspiciously glossy. “Did I ever tell you girls about the time Joe went to jail for beating my daddy close to death over fifty years ago?”

All of us gape at her at once.

Peggy sighs. “Well, Daddy was a drinker, the worst kind. He’d hit Momma and toss my sister and I around like we were rag dolls. We’d hide, run, and even tried to lock him out of the house a few times. Well, one night, after a long stint on the bottle, he came home around the same time Joe was bringing me homefrom our first date. As you can guess, it didn’t go so well. Daddy slapped me across the face right in front of Joe. I’d never seen such anger in Joe’s eyes. Not even after that night. He beat my daddy to a pulp. He went to jail for a week before Momma and I went to the judge to defend him. We were married three weeks later and he never left my side for fifty-three years.”

Janice takes Peggy’s hand as she starts to sniffle. “He was a great man, Peggy.”

“I hope you’re not telling me I’m going to be married to Butch Montgomery in three weeks.” I smile weakly, trying to lift her spirits. But on the inside, I’m a mixture of emotions. Can I even say that I know anything about who Butch really is? I can’t say I do. I mean, small-town gossip only runs so deep. We all know most stories don’t ever tell the full truth.

And I certainly can’t hold my flower cup grudge against him a moment longer.

Peggy laughs, taking the tissue Alison hands her. “Maybe not three weeks. You can always wait four.”

Janice chuckles.

Alison beams, glancing over to the clock. “You’ve got ten minutes to figure out what you’re writing on his order, Cass. And it better be a good one considering you’ve been holding a grudge against the guy for a darn cup when he had just found out his grandma died.”

Janice nods. “His grandmother’s name was Rose. It probably didn’t help it was roses on the cup either.”

I groan. “I already feel like crap about it.” Throwing my hands in the air. “What am I supposed to say now? I wroteSmile, Assholeon his last cup, granted he didn’t mention it, but still. He had to of seen it.”

“Maybe he didn’t,” Alison counters. “Either way, you need to say thank you a hundred times over, because that night could’veended so much worse if Butch wasn’t there. You said it yourself, Colt had that look in his eye. He was going to hurt you, Cass.”

I take in a deep breath, failing to reel it in on this one. “I know.” I don’t need them all telling me how grateful I should be for what Butch did for me—I already am. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Or him…

I might not have been the most cooperative the other night, but he didn’t leave me when I needed someone the most. But this isButchwe’re talking about. Butch ‘The Town Asshole’ Montgomery.What am I even supposed to do with that?

The same man every woman wants…except me.

Because I can’t stand him…right?

“At least be friendlier toward the man,” Janice says.

Peggy nods in agreement. “At the very least.”

Alison nudges me suggestively with her elbow. “Extra-large,extra-friendly. If you know what I mean?”

Peggy and Janice laugh.

A few customers trail in, stopping the conversation short. I fill their orders on autopilot, my mind somewhere else entirely. The moment they’re gone, I glance up just in time to see Butch’s truck pull up.Crap.I grab his to-go cup and a Sharpie. Thinking fast, I write the only thing I seem to be able to come up with.

Why am I so nervous right now?I despised this guy two days ago.

The bell chimes as I start filling the cup with black coffee. Turning with his coffee in hand, I set it down on the counter in front of him with the short message facing me so he doesn’t see it right away.

“Extra-large black coffee, two breakfast sandwiches, and a peanut butter cookie. To go,” he grumbles, tossing a few bills on the counter. But instead of him staring at his phone like usual, he locks his eyes with mine. Deep brown irises bore into me with a scorching intensity. His expression, unreadable.

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