Chapter Thirty-Seven
THE DINER IS PACKED. SEVERAL people are waiting for tables by the time we walk in at twelve thirty. I don’t bother standing behind them, though. I’m not here for waffles this time.
I scan the space and find Hannah behind the counter, serving someone some coffee. It’s decaf, and that pisses me off probably way more than it should. I knew she was lying before when she said they didn’t have any. That wench.
Striding over, I ignore the looks of interest that come at me from everyone in my path. I stop when I’m in front of Hannah, behind the broad back of a very big man with puffy, dark hair.
“Hannah, I need to talk to you.”
She looks up in surprise and then scowls. “I’m busy.”
“So? I need to talk to you anyway.”
I feel someone at my back and turn around. Ian’s there, looking very worried. His presence reassures me and makes me feel bolder.
“Hey, Hannah,” he says in greeting, before turning his attention to me. He’s talking barely above a whisper. “Maybe we can do this later, someplace else?”
“Nope, we can do it right now.” I fold my arms across my chest and go back to staring Hannah down.
Several people have stopped eating to watch. The man in front of me turns around, and I notice for the first time that it’s Boog.
“Hello there,” he says.
I cringe at the food shrapnel in his beard. It might be egg.
“Hi, Boog,” I say before turning my attention back to Hannah. “You and I need to talk.”
She cocks her hip and slams the orange-topped pot down on the counter. It’s a miracle it doesn’t break. “Like I said, I’m busy.” Some of the hot coffee sloshes out onto Boog’s plate.
He stares at the brown pool in his plate along with Ian, but her violence with caffeine doesn’t dissuade me from my mission one iota.
“I hear you’ve been starting up and spreading vicious rumors about my friend Andie all over town for the past year.”
“Who said that?” Hannah asks, her face all screwed up. She looks at Boog. “Did you say that?”
Boog’s mouth falls open, but before he can get a word out, I continue.
“Doesn’t matter who said it, what matters is that it stops. Today.” I give her my most dangerous look.
“I know you’re not talking to me,” she says, taking her hand off the coffee pot and folding her arms across her chest. They push her boobs almost completely out of her top.
“I am most certainly talking to you, Hannah Banana.”
She begins untying the apron around her waist. “I told you before, my name is Hannah. Just Hannah!” She finally gets all the straps from her apron undone. After crumpling the entire thing up into a ball, she throws it on the counter, covering half of Boog’s plate.
Her attention is back on me. “You say one more word to me about that girl and we’re going to have a big problem,” she warns.
She took her apron off, so oh yeah, it’s totally on. I am so ready to teach his country bumpkin a lesson in how we city girls roll.
“That girl happens to be my best friend, and she never did anything to you, so you better stop talking about her or else.”
Everyone in the restaurant has pretty much stopped talking or eating. All eyes are on us, and I totally don’t care. I’m all fired up, seeing that Hannah somehow believes she’s entitled to ruin my best friend’s life.
“You gotta lotta nerve coming in here and talking to me like that,” Hannah says, glaring at me. Her head bobs and weaves a little.
I lean over the counter a little and talk loud enough for the whole place to hear me. “You’ve got a lot of nerve making up lies about people you know nothing about.”
“I don’t make up lies,” she spits back. “I just tell it like I hear it.”
“Then you’re hearing wrong.”
“Says who?”
We’re practically nose to nose right now.
“Says me. So you can stop telling people that Andie broke you and Mack up because everyone knows you guys were never together. And you can stop telling everyone that she broke Ian and Ginny up because Ginny did that all by herself. Mack had nothing to do with it, and Andie had nothing to do with it.” I back up and let my words sink in.
“Well, guess what, Miss Know-It-All?” Hannah says, her mouth all twisted up, “I’m not the one saying all those things, so you can go sit on Ian’s gear shift and spin as far as I’m concerned.”
My mouth drops open as my face burns flame-red. Is it that obvious that I’ve sat on Ian’s gear shift?
Before I can answer, Ian puts his hand on my shoulder and pulls me back from the bar. “Hannah, if it’s not you saying stuff, tell us who it is.”
Hannah loses her angry expression and starts to pout. “Why should I?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll tell everyone what I know about a certain drunken confession I heard on the fourth of July last year.”
She glances quickly at Boog and then at Ian. “You wouldn’t.”
Ian smiles. “Oh, you know I would.”
Her nostrils flare. “Ian you are evil, you know that?”
“No argument here. You gonna fess up or am I going to start talking?” He looks pointedly at Boog.
Hannah’s face goes white. “No! No, I’m talking, I’m talking.” She grabs her apron off the counter and turns to face the cook. “I’m taking a break.”
“A break? You can’t take a break now!” He’s talking to her back, though, because she’s already halfway down the counter on the way to the front door.
She only pauses to grab a red puffy coat off a hook at the door and then she’s outside.
Boog just gives me a lifted eyebrow before going back to his lunch.
“Come on. Let’s hear what she has to say,” Ian says in my ear.
I ignore the whispers and stares from the patrons of the diner as we make our way out.
“She’s not getting off that easy,” I mumble as we walk through the door.
“Just let her talk,” Ian says. He laces his fingers through my gloved ones and shoves both of our hands into his coat pocket.
I try to keep the grin off my face, but it’s impossible. He’s declaring to the world that we’re together and I couldn’t be happier about it. Even though this is only a fling, it sure is a nice one. I can’t remember ever being this excited just to hold someone’s hand. Not even when Jimmy Cunningham grabbed my hand with his clammy one between forth and fifth periods in high school was I this thrilled. Maybe I’m coming down with something. I’m going to Google my symptoms later. Breathlessness? Check. Hootchie on fire? Check. Mood swings? Check aaaand double check. One minute I want to laugh and the next I want to bang heads together like two coconuts. I’m definitely ill, probably with something serious.
Hannah stops a few paces down the sidewalk outside the diner and huffs out a breath of hair, making white smoke go all around her face. “You got some nerve coming into my work and talking to me like that.” She’s glaring.
I can’t tell if she’s talking to me or Ian, but I answer anyway. “Stop spreading lies about people and you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”
“How am I supposed to know they’re lies?”
“Because they’re about you, Stupid, and you know the truth.”
“Don’t call me stupid,” she says, giving me the stink-eye.
“Don’t act stupid and I won’t.” I give her the eye right back.
Ian steps sideways so he’s almost between us. “Come on let’s just get this over with.” He turns to Hannah. “Tell us who’s making up the lies, Hannah.”
“Not me.”
“So you say.” Ian glares at her.
“Isn’t that good enough for you, Ian?” She pouts again, and I have to admit, she is pretty good at it. “We used to be friends, you know.”
“No, Hannah, we were never friends. You’ve always been a pain in the ass.”
“Well that’s just plain rude.” She tries to act all offended.
“Whatever!” I say, cutting in on their leftover high school drama. “Who’s talking bad about Andie behind her back!”
She turns on me, looking ready to spit. “It’s Ginny, okay?!” She turns her gaze to Ian, her expression going softer. “Sorry. I know you didn’t want to hear that, but it’s true.”
Ian goes very still.
“So, Ginny’s telling everyone that Andie broke you and Mack up and her and Ian up?”
“Yes.” Hannah sighs and shoves her hands in her coat pockets. “She was pretty broken hearted when Ian dumped her. She might be embellishing the facts a little, I admit, but it wasn’t me who did it, okay? I tried to tell her to let it go, but she won’t. She’s super bitter. Like outer limits bitter.”
Ian looks up at the sky and shakes his head for a few seconds. Then he growls and looks straight ahead out into the street. “That’s pretty f*cking rich … me dumping her? She’s got to be crazy.”
“You didn’t dump her?” I ask, a sharp stabbing sensation inside my chest making my heart ache. Does this mean he never wanted to break up with her in the first place? Does he still love her? And if he does, why does that make me so damn sad? I’m leaving here!
“Of course I broke up with her!” he says, turning his ire on me. “But it wasn’t my choice! It was hers!” He lets out a long breath and talks in a calmer voice. “She chose to throw herself at my brother. That’s on her, not me.”
“But she says you practically made her do it,” Hannah says in a small voice. “She was just trying to get your attention. You didn’t have to break up with her over it.”
Ian glares at Hannah. “Do you seriously believe that crap?”
Hannah shrugs. “Kind of?”
“Well, quit doing it, ‘cause it ain’t true.” Ian stands with hunched shoulders, blowing white smoke out with every breath, shaking his head.
“Ain’t isn’t a word,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. I can’t help but feel sad that maybe Mack was wrong about everything he thinks he knows about his brother. But that doesn’t mean I want Ian to be sad. Maybe he still wants to be with Ginny, and if that’s what he wants, then I’m going to have to like him enough to help him get it. That’s what people do for people they … care about.
Ian glares at me. “I’ve got a word for you.”
My jaw goes a little off to the side. “Let’s hear it then.”
Ian says nothing. We just stare at each other. I’m using every bit of willpower I have to not smile. He is so damn cute when he’s angry.
“So you guys are dating now, huh?” Hannah asks.
I laugh a little. “Kind of hard to be doing that when you never actually go out on a date.”
Ian frowns playfully. “What do you mean I never take you out on a date? We went to the shooting range together, where you shot me by the way, we went checking cows, feeding the calf …”
“You didn’t take me to the range, you fool, I took myself. And I didn’t shoot you either.”
He looks at Hannah. “Did you see my scar? She shot me. I have witnesses.”
Hannah laughs. “It’s about time someone shot you, idiot.” She starts walking away. “I have to go back to work.”
I talk at her back. “Thanks for telling us about Ginny. But you better not keep talking about Andie like that. I’m serious, Hannah!”
She waves over her head, her bright red nails showing off well against the white snowy backdrop. “Yeah, yeah.”
Ian wraps his arms around me from behind, trapping my arms at my sides. “You’re my prisoner.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s you who’s my prisoner,” I say, smiling. People in the diner are probably staring at us, but I don’t care. Let the world see that this man makes me completely silly.
“Do you always argue about everything?” he asks.
“No. Do you?”
“No. Never. Only with you. But I’m pretty sure it’s not me actually arguing. It’s you doing that.” He kisses my neck and then snorts in there too like a wild pig or something, giving me goosebumps all over.
I turn around and fling my arms around his neck, hugging him tight. “Stop that, Piglet.”
“I can’t help it.” He buries his face in my neck again. “You smell so good. And you taste good too.” He pushes his hips into me a little, letting me know he’s ready to go again for another roll in the hay or the straw or whatever that yellow stuff is.
“You’re so bad,” I say, smiling like a looney bird. I would totally do him standing up out here. I would.
A car drives by and honks several times. Then someone yells out the window. “Get a room!”
Ian lifts his head and then flips someone the bird. They honk some more.
“Come on. Let’s go home.” Ian puts our hands in his coat pocket again.
His choice of words makes me sad. Home. Home is where the heart is but I live in Florida. Can I live in a different place than my heart? Talk about mood swings. I’m back to fighting tears off again. I must be ready to have my period or something. Maybe the jet lag is throwing off my calendar or something. I shouldn’t be this moody until next week.
“What’s wrong?” he asks me as we approach the truck.
“Nothing.” I get inside with his help and wait for him to shut the door, but he just stands there instead, looking up at me.
“What?” I ask, avoiding looking into his eyes. I focus on his hair instead.
“You’re sad or mad or something.”
“No I’m not.”
“You’re arguing again.”
“It’s you, not me.”
He stands up on the running board of the truck and kisses me quick on the lips before I realize what he’s even doing. “Liar,” he says, before he hops down and goes around the back of the truck.
I take four deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. Going all crybaby on Ian right now is the last thing I want to do. I have a life waiting for me in Florida. I cannot let this little fling get out of control.
We ride the rest of the way back to the ranch in silence.