Billy had been right.
I’d never seen Cletus look at a woman like he looked at Jennifer Sylvester. She was the only person in his world. He didn’t know whether to kiss her silly now, or throw her over his shoulder, toss her in his back seat, and kiss her silly there.
Cletus was wrecked. Really and truly wrecked. Twisted in knots, going out of his mind, fallen too far, over the moon crazy gone for this woman. Furthermore, and just as obvious, Cletus had absolutely no idea that Jennifer Sylvester had wrecked him.
“Sure thing,” I mumbled, my mind in chaos as I walked to the office.
What the hell was I supposed to do now? Cletus had it bad for Jenn, but he had no idea he had it bad for Jenn. Which meant he hadn’t been lying to me or pushing my buttons; he still planned to court Shelly.
The idiot.
Of all the stupid messes.
Setting the muffins on the countertop, I started the coffee and considered the best course of action. Talking to Cletus about his intentions would get me nowhere. He was stubborn and never admitted when he was wrong.
The only thing I could do was stick to the original plan. I would flirt with Jenn, shamelessly, hoping a little jealousy would go a long way and force him to see what was staring him in the face.
The time had come for me to meddle in Cletus Winston’s life.
* * *
“Y’all need to learn how to share,” Jenn said, referring to her muffins.
“Sharing is overrated,” Cletus quipped, staring at her like she was a plate of blueberry pancakes.
The big dumb idiot.
“I agree,” I said cheerfully, hiding my smirk. “Who wants coffee?”
Everything was going more or less as I’d intended. Jenn and Cletus had returned and we were preparing to eat the muffins in the downstairs office.
“Is it decaf?” Cletus sniffed at me, looking down his nose at my coffee. “I don’t want to be up all night.”
“It is,” I confirmed as I filled my brother’s cup.
“Jenn?” Cletus turned back to Jenn. “Do you want any?”
“Yes, please.” She smiled at him, still looking a little nervous, and who could blame her? Cletus clearly didn’t know his own mind, and that made him even more unpredictable than usual.
“How do you take your coffee?” I retrieved the bowl of sugar, planning to make a flirtatious remark about her being sweet.
But then she said, “Black is fine.”
I looked to my brother, seeing he was also surprised.
“You don’t take anything in your coffee?” Cletus asked.
“No. I’m surrounded by sweets all day. I like my coffee black.”
“Huh . . .” I inspected Jenn, rethinking my strategy. The time was now. I needed to say something to wake my brother up from his blindness. So I started with the obvious. “Jennifer Sylvester, you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”
This was almost true. The woman had very pretty violet eyes; I’d never seen the color on anyone else. Daisy Payton’s daughters also had beautiful eyes—whiskey colored and looked gold in the sunlight. I’d caught myself admiring Daniella’s eyes—the oldest daughter—at church picnics growing up. But all three of the Payton kids were long gone now, living in New York and Washington, DC the last I heard.
And then there are Shelly’s eyes . . .
Jenn stared at me, her expression patient and unflustered. I wondered briefly if my compliment had offended her. But her reaction wasn’t what I was after.
I looked to Cletus, seeing he was glowering. My brother hurriedly cleared his expression, standing stock still. But I could tell he was agitated.
Well, it’s a start.
“Oh, thank you, Beau.” Jenn nodded politely.
“No, thank you.” I widened my smile, giving her my flirty eyes, a new idea making me say, “You should come with us on Saturday. I’ll drive you.”
“Where are you going?”
“Cletus and Claire made it to the semifinals in a big-deal talent show.” I lifted my chin toward my brother. “Saturday is the last round. There’ll be record labels, the whole nine yards.”
Jenn studied Cletus and I did as well, looking for a reaction. The sneak hid his expression behind a gulp of coffee.
A little flustered, Jenn turned her attention back to me. “I appreciate the invitation, but I wouldn’t want to impose.”
Before I could insist, Cletus cut in, “You wouldn’t be imposing. If you want to come, you should come.”
I blinked at my brother, at his gentle tone of voice, at the dazed smile he was giving her.
Oh good Lord, what an idiot.
“Good.” I nodded, grinning at Jenn and amping up my attack. “It’s a date.”
“It’s not a date,” my brother snapped, now scowling at me.
“Not you, dummy. Me. Jenn and me.” I had to grab a muffin and take a bite to keep from laughing at my brother’s expression.
“Jenn and you?” Cletus looked and sounded mystified.
“That’s right.” I spoke around a bite of muffin, then moaned for effect, turning my eyes to Jenn. “What the hell did you put in these things?” I grabbed another muffin, knowing that would irritate Cletus, and launched another volley. “When we get married, you should make these every day.”
Jenn smirked at me, like she didn’t believe a word out of my mouth but thought I was cute regardless. And that just made me like her more.
Meanwhile, Cletus looked like he was about to have a coronary. “Slow your gourd, Beauford.” He pulled the muffins out of my reach, and his voice rose. “Don’t eat the whole plate, greedy britches.”
“There are at least twenty muffins here, Cletus. Slow your own gourd.” This was a lot of fun, and I could see why Cletus meddled so much.
“I want them to last,” he grumped.
“Or, she could just make more.” I methodically turned my gaze to the pretty blonde and lowered my voice with innuendo. “Because, I have to tell you, Jenn, I’ve never had a muffin this good before.”
“Hey, hey. Switch off the high beams, Beauford Winston.” My brother snapped his fingers in front of my line of sight. “Jennifer isn’t one of your lady prospects.”
I dismissed him with a lift of my eyebrow, knowing that would piss him off, and winked at Jenn. “I was just complimenting her muffin.”
“That’s it.” My brother grabbed the plate off the counter, glared daggers at me, and turned away. He tugged Jenn to the office door.
“Hey! Where are you going?” I called after them.
“You’ve lost the right to these muffins.”
“Cletus,” I shouted at his back, allowing some of my frustration to bleed into my voice, “you can’t have all the muffins.”
“I can and I will,” he hollered over his shoulder stubbornly, making me see red.
Uh, No.
No, no, no.
He needed to choose.
My brother softened his voice to ask, “Jenn, unlock that for me, please?”
Her fingers weren’t quite steady, so it took her a bit to engage the lock.
The delay gave me a chance to challenge, “When you get home, you and I are going to have words.”
A stillness settled over Cletus and I recognized it for what it was. He was furious.