Kiss My Boots (Coming Home #2)

I need my bestie.

By the time I get to the diner, Leigh is already sitting in our regular booth—in the back, away from everyone else. I glance toward the PieHole, seeing the lights still on, and feel a little bad for pulling her away from her prep for tomorrow’s pies. Only a little, though.

I jump down from Ness, my old Silverado from high school, and make my way into the diner. I wave at some of the locals that always seem to be here.

“Thanks for comin’ over. I know you’re busy,” I tell Leigh after I slide into the booth across from her.

“Jana’s over there finishin’ up. I was headed home anyway,” she says around the straw of her Coke. “But if Terry makes one more damn crack about Maverick’s predilection for pie eatin’ at home, I’m gonna go batshit crazy.”

I snort. “He’s still goin’ on about that?”

I glance over her shoulder and see the old man in question, Terry Long, wag his bushy brows at me.

“Gross,” I mumble under my breath.

“Did he do the eyebrow dance?” Leigh questions with a smile.

“Ugh, double gross that you have a name for it.”

She shrugs. “So? What’s wrong?”

“I went to Tate,” I tell her in a rush, needing to get it out.

Her eyes widen and she removes the straw from her mouth, pushing her drink away slowly. “You went to him?” she asks in shocked awe.

“I went to him to give him a good earful. Oh, I was fumin’ too, Leigh. I’d been festerin’ in that fume for the four whole days since I saw him last.”

“What happened four days ago?”

Oh. Shit. I belatedly remember I didn’t tell her about the morning after our night out. “About that,” I hedge, gaining her narrowed eyes.

“Yes, about that. Let’s start there.”

“I sorta . . . well, not sorta, I definitely did, but it wasn’t what I thought right away, at least . . . uh, I woke up in his bed the mornin’ after we went out to the Dam Bar.”

“You what?” she screams.

I wince and look past her again to see everyone in the room lookin’ our way. I give them a wave, then point to Leigh. “Don’t mind us. Just talkin’ to Bridezilla here.”

I get a few smiles and rolled eyes, but everyone just goes back to talking softly and eating. Thankfully, they’re used to me and Leighton being crazy, and with no visible gossip-worthy things happening in front of them, they’ll take our conversation to be the wedding talkfest I say it is.

“Nothing happened,” I hiss, pausing when our favorite waitress, Alice, comes to take our orders. We do the usual burgers, fries, and shakes, my and Leigh’s tradition. My eyes follow Alice the second she turns to go put in our orders at the kitchen window until I’m sure she can’t hear anything I have to say. “He ran into me when I was past Lenore-level drunk, didn’t know for sure where I lived, so when I started gettin’ sick, he took me to his paw’s old place—well, I guess his place now—got me cleaned up, and crashed.”

“Crashed on the couch or crashed in the same bed as you?”

“Did I mention he was a little drunk too?” I say, instantly protective of his motives. I shake off the question of why I feel compelled to defend him and stare at Leigh.

“Wait a minute. You said you rushed over there today stewin’ mad.” Her eyes darken. “Did that bastard sleep with you when you were wasted? Is that why you were pissed?”

“Not exactly,” I answer honestly.

“What the hell does that mean?” she blurts out, little drops of spit flying.

My lip curls up and I hold my hand over my open drink. “Gross. Say it, don’t spray it.”

“Quinn.” She sighs impatiently, motioning for me to continue.

“He may have gotten a little hands-on and verbally suggestive. My hackles went up and I may have rushed outta there with a stolen shirt, my boots, and nothin’ else.”

Her eyes are as big as saucers when I stop talking. “He let you leave?”

“He may have tried to stop me, but he didn’t get past the porch. I reckon that’s because he realized he was wearin’ nothin’ but his tight-as-hell briefs, a devil-smile, and an erection.”

If possible, her eyes bug out even farther after I tell her that little nugget. Then, to my absolute shock and horror, she tosses her head back and laughs so loud we’re once again the center of attention.

“Would you shut up?” I hiss, bending forward to use her as a shield while I reprimand her. “Seriously, Leigh. Everyone is lookin’.”

Wiping her eyes to clear tears of laughter, she quiets down to a soft giggle before locking eyes with me again and snorting, then starting back up again. I lean back against the booth, cross my arms over my chest, and wait for her to stop acting like an idiot.

“Sorry.” She giggles, calming down slightly, but now she’s smiling at me with such a creepy expression I’m not sure if I should be worried for her sanity or not.

“No, you aren’t, but I would love to know what’s so dang funny.” I pout.

“Remember that time I threw a pie in Mav’s face, then followed him home to finish the fight we were havin’?”

Now that makes me smile. “You mean when you followed him home and he broke your hooha?”

“I’m not goin’ to let you and Jana play together anymore if you don’t stop that shit. You sound just like her,” she jokes.

“Yeah, right. Anyway, get to the point.”

“Weelllll.” She drags out the word, and her creepy smile grows a little larger. “Maverick told me a few months later that he got busted by Drew standin’ out on the porch naked as the day he was born watchin’ me leave that night. I had been stuck in my head, freakin’ out about what had happened between us, I didn’t even notice him chasin’ after me. I just think it’s pretty damn funny that you did the same thing to Tate.”

“I didn’t rush out of there because I was freakin’ out about anything happenin’ between us,” I say defensively.

“Liar.”

“We didn’t sleep together,” I whisper heatedly.

“You said he got handsy. I know you, Quinn. You would have just pushed back and played him at his own game if it was just a little fun. You freaked out and ran because you could never put him in some one-night-stand category.”

“I could. If I really wanted to.”

Alice comes back and places our plates down with a grunt, leaving just as quickly as she appeared.

“She’s so sweet,” I say around a mouthful of fries.

“Have you talked to Tate since that mornin’ other than just now?” Leigh asks with a knowing eye.

“Today was the first time and I may have stormed into the baby-doctor office and caused a little scene in front of a few people, so I’m guessin’ in a few hours the whole damn town will know too.”

Her eyes widen, but she quickly calms herself.