“What’s the problem? Maybe I can help.” Billy stretched his long legs in front of him.
I exhaled a laugh. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Why not? I have a lot of employees.”
Gritting my teeth, I considered what to say before settling on, “It’s not that kind of trouble.”
Billy’s forehead wrinkled and he mouthed the word Oh. And then he smirked.
I rolled my eyes.
He chuckled. “You and Cletus both.”
A cold knot twisted in my stomach and I dropped my eyes to the book in my lap. “What about me and Cletus?”
“He’s got lady troubles, too.”
“Yeah, well. I know who the woman is.”
“Really?”
“Yep. He told me a week ago, he’s got intentions for Shelly.”
“Shelly?” Billy inspected me.
“Yep.”
“Nope.”
“Billy, come on.” I closed the book, setting it on the table next to me. “He was all dressed up, showered before noon, in that new shirt Sienna got him for his birthday—”
“To see Jennifer Sylvester.” A small, knowing smile tugged at one side of his mouth.
“What?”
“Jennifer Sylvester. That’s who’s got Cletus wrecked.”
Jennifer Sylvester?
The Banana Cake Queen?
The meek little slip of a woman?
And how the hell does Billy know?
“No.” I shook my head.
“Yes.” He nodded his head.
“First of all, Cletus will never be wrecked for a woman,” and definitely not how Billy meant, “because he’s not built that way. And furthermore, he told me—”
“He’s delusional.” Billy flicked his wrist, batting away my argument. “And you’re wrong. That’s how we’re all built. Give him time. He’s smart, he’ll figure it out eventually.”
I was stunned, still working through this information as Billy stood, taking his glass with him. But I thought I caught him mutter as he left the library, “And so will you.”
12
“If everybody minded their own business, the world would go around a great deal faster than it does.”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
* * *
*Beau*
That no-good, sneaky, meddling usurper.
That’s what he was.
Cletus’s eyes cut to mine and I gave him a small smile, masking the daggers I’d been tossing his way just a second prior. He glared at me from across the garage, his stare narrowing like he was suspicious.
He’d always been this way. Always. Doing sneaky shit, lying by omission, thinking he knew what was best for everybody. In truth, he was just messing things up and being a pain in the ass.
But this time . . . this time he’d seriously pissed me off.
Monday and Tuesday brought more of the same, specifically, Shelly’s persnickety attitude. But now I was distracted. As such, when she snapped at me or complained, I let her have her way without a word.
My sights were set on Cletus. I wasn’t going to ask him what the hell he was playing at. He never gave a straight answer to a straight question. I was going to have to trick him somehow, force him to show his hand.
And then, when he does, Shelly and I will . . . well, I reckoned I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.
He knew I wouldn’t make a move on Shelly if he declared his interest first. He knew that. So, what was his game? Why say he had intentions for Shelly if he actually had intentions for Jennifer Sylvester? That was the part I didn’t understand because—though he was sneaky—this kind of behavior wasn’t like him. Not unless he was trying to push my buttons or he was lying to Billy for some other nefarious purpose.
I didn’t believe for one minute he was wrecked over Jenn Sylvester, at least not the way Billy meant. Cletus wasn’t the head-over-heels sort, not like Ashley, or Duane, or Jethro.
I hadn’t figured out yet how to force the issue, but I was considering driving my ass down to the Donner Bakery—that’s where Jennifer worked—and asking her out on a date.
Turns out, I didn’t need to.
Standing at the basin sink, scrubbing the grease from my fingernails, I glanced out the front of the garage and spotted Jennifer Sylvester’s BMW pulling into the lot. A disbelieving laugh burst from my chest and I shut off the water, keeping my eyes on her car while she parked.
Unzipping my coveralls, I strolled toward her car and tied the sleeves around my waist. I stopped at her bumper, waiting for her to exit, and I couldn’t remember a time I was so happy to see another person. For all intents and purposes, in that moment, Jennifer Sylvester was my favorite person on Earth. She got a big ol’ smile.
“Hey Jenn. Something wrong with your car?” I noticed several things about her at once: she was dressed differently than usual, more relaxed; she was holding a plate in front of her like it would protect her; and she looked nervous.
“Hiya, Beau.” She paused to clear her throat. “No. Nothing wrong with the car. I was just driving by and thought I’d stop in and bring y’all some muffins.”
“What’d you bring?”
“Um, something new I’m trying out. They’re blueberry pancake muffins.”
Of course. Of course she did.
I chuckled, shaking my head. “They’re for Cletus, right?”
Anything blueberry was Cletus’s favorite. He’d almost had a heart attack last year when there was a blueberry shortage at the Piggly Wiggly, expecting us all to live-Tweet our grocery shopping.
“No, no. They’re for all of you.”
Her response was unexpected, so I examined her closely as I said, “Blueberry pancakes are his favorite.”
“Are they?” She looked genuinely surprised, and maybe a little happy.
“You didn’t know that?”
“No. I had no idea.”
“Huh. Well.” Inspecting her again, I didn’t know what to think of this development. But there was no reason to keep her hostage in the parking lot. I turned and waved her forward. “Come on in. I’m just finishing up. I can make some coffee and we’ll hang out for bit.”
“Oh, that sounds nice.” Again, she sounded pleasantly surprised and that gave me pause.
I didn’t know much about Jennifer Sylvester. She was some years younger than me, about Roscoe’s age, and never seemed to do anything other than bake. Her momma and daddy were extremely strict, and she always appeared a little embarrassed and a little confused in public.
Aside from all that, she seemed like a nice enough person. When she’d shown up unexpectedly at our house a few weeks ago on the anniversary of our momma’s death bearing gifts of food, I hadn’t given her arrival much thought. Momma had befriended a lot of people over the course of her life. I just figured Jennifer had been one of them.
I wasn’t going to ask her on a date. Nor was I going to mislead her, per se. However, once we were in front of Cletus, I was going to unleash every flirt-weapon in my arsenal to get a reaction out of my brother. Then I’d have my answer.
“Wait ’til you try my coffee. I doubt it’ll do justice to your muffins.” Feeling a twinge of guilt, I glanced over my shoulder and slowed my steps so we could walk into the garage together.