Billy didn’t respond to Duane’s question verbally, but instead allowed his icicle eyes and disapproving silence to answer for him.
“Can you come back tomorrow?” Duane turned me in his arms slightly, his voice low and gentle.
“Yeah. I can come tomorrow. No problem. Do you mind if I leave everything here tonight?”
Duane shrugged. “We have plenty of space in the fridge, now Cletus has removed his sausage.”
“Okay,” I nodded, leaned forward, picked up my pie again, and made to stand. “Well then I guess I’ll go—”
A chorus of, “No!” and “What? Where are you going?” and “Put that pie down,” and other protests kept me from going back to the front porch to collect my things.
“You should stay.” Billy gave me a half smile that was completely unexpected, as were his words. “Stay and have dinner with us. Your company would be a welcome change.”
“Yes. Stay. Even if you’re a big eater, there’s plenty of my sausage for you.”
“Cletus!” His name was exclaimed in a unified shout by the other three brothers, each shooting him their own unique version of a dirty look.
“Well…” I glanced at the pie in my hands, biting my lip so I wouldn’t laugh, and turned my attention to Duane. “I guess everything will keep until tomorrow.”
“Oh, no. We’ll eat that pie tonight. You make a new one for tomorrow to go along with your meatloaf.” Cletus nodded like this was already decided.
“If you’re taking requests, I’d really like another apple pie.” Beau gave me a wink from across the table.
“She is not taking any pie requests from you,” Duane barked at Beau.
“Fine, fine! No need to get your britches twisted, it’s not as though I was offering her my sausage, like some people. I’m just saying, since she has to make a new pie irregardless, she might as well make another apple pie.”
Billy lifted his beer toward Beau, his tone completely condescending as he remarked, “I feel I must tell you, Beau, that there is no such word as ‘irregardless’. It’s just regardless.”
“Stop correcting Beau’s terrible grammar and go get the bigger bag of charcoal.” Cletus kicked Billy’s chair. “These flames aren’t adequate to cook my sausage.”
I was fighting another grin when Duane leaned close, removed the pie from my hands, and set it back on the table. He slid his hand back around my waist, sending lovely tendrils of warmth through my body. “Ignore them,” he whispered, his hot breath on my neck making me shiver. “They’re just trying to get you to make more pie.”
“I don’t mind,” I whispered back. “The crust recipe made enough for two, so it’s just a matter of making the filling.”
“Go show Jessica around.” Beau flicked his wrist toward us, waving us off while giving me a conspiratorial look. “She hasn’t been here in years. Go show her the upstairs.”
“The upstairs?” Duane made a face. “There’s nothing upstairs except the bedrooms.”
“He means, go spend some time being physically intimate with your pretty girlfriend until dinner is ready,” Cletus supplied, not sparing us a glance. He was frowning at his coals. “We’ll make a ruckus and call you down when it’s time to eat.”
Duane scowled at Beau. Beau shrugged, the arch of his eyebrows and his pleased smirk were positively devilish.
“We’ll go inside and unpack the groceries for tomorrow,” Duane said pointedly, and continued to glare at Beau.
“You do that. You go unpack those groceries.” His twin nodded, still looking unrepentant. “You unpack those groceries so hard.”
Before Duane could lean over the table and assault his twin, I added with my biggest, cheekiest smile, “Then we’ll go upstairs and be physically intimate until dinner is ready.”
I heard Billy choke on his laugh. Beau guffawed.
Duane glanced at me, his eyebrows half suspended between wonder and disapproval. I winked at him.
“That all sounds just dandy,” Cletus agreed, his tone level, as though I’d just said Duane and I were going inside to wash the floors. Then he added, “But work up an appetite, woman. Because you’ve never tasted fine meat until you’ve eaten my sausage.”
“CLETUS!”
***
We did unpack the groceries.
But other than a few quick kisses in the kitchen, we weren’t physically intimate and Duane didn’t take me upstairs.
I didn’t mind. I wanted to talk to him, make sure we were okay. Thankfully, things between us were easy and fun, leaving me feeling silly that I’d planned my elaborate dinner ambush. Looking back over the last few days of minimal contact, I realized I’d overreacted. I could have stopped in at the auto shop or called him after work.
I decided he hadn’t been avoiding me. I’d inflated the meaning of his lack of contact in my head.
After unpacking the groceries, he walked me to the woods surrounding their house and we used familiar trails to navigate the forest.
“This path leads to the creek,” he said, holding my hand in his and helping me over a felled log with unnecessary—but not unwelcome—solicitousness.
“The one that feeds the lake?”