He’d sworn off women after his second divorce and he’d stayed pretty faithful to his vow of bachelorhood until he met Kate. God or fate or karma damn sure had a wicked sense of humor.
“Gracie told me she wanted to come to your ranch and ride a horse someday so I know she’ll be delighted, but I feel like I should ask Jamie first,” Kate said. “Now, let’s put all that on the back burner and you can tell me about this burger joint. Is it a chain? Do we have them in Dallas and Fort Worth?”
“It’s not a chain. It’s one of a kind and it’s called Bobby Jo’s. They only make burgers and hot dogs. None of this diversifying business. And they peel their own potatoes for their fries and make their own chili for the burgers and hot dogs.”
“Chili for burgers?” She frowned.
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he said. “A chili burger is two pieces of meat, two pieces of cheese, and a scoop of hot chili that melts the cheese. You usually have to eat it with a spoon, but it’s pretty damned good.”
“Sounds like it. Do they do chili cheese fries?”
“Yep, and they are amazing,” he said.
“How’d you find out about this place?” she asked.
“My daddy was a big fan of hamburgers and hot dogs, so when we drove up here for a load of feed or to go to the stockyards, we always went to Bobby Joe’s. The original owner died some years ago and they changed up the sign a little bit to be Bobby Jo’s, as in a girl’s name. She’s his granddaughter.”
Kate’s stomach growled.
“That’s a good sign,” Waylon said. “You want to go in there hungry.”
He drove past a mall and several other places to eat, made a few turns that had her completely lost as to how she’d ever find her way back out of the maze without him, and then parked in a lot crowded with trucks and cars.
“We’re lucky,” he said. “We got here before the church crowd. Welcome to the best-kept secret in North Texas.”
She stepped out to the smell of grilled onions and burgers. “It smells heavenly.”
“Tastes even better.”
With his hand on the small of her back, he ushered her inside, and a cute little red-haired woman left her place from behind the hostess counter and hugged him tightly. “Waylon Kramer, where have you been keeping yourself? This gorgeous woman is too good for the likes of an old cop like you.”
“Kate, meet Bobby Jo. Bobby Jo, this is Kate Steele, and I agree with what you said, which makes me the luckiest man in the place today.”
Kate blushed scarlet but did remember to hold out her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Bobby Jo. I hear you make an awesome burger.”
Her handshake was firm, and her blue eyes twinkled. She had kinky red hair that she’d pulled up in a messy bun, and she wore a T-shirt that advertised the business. “My cooks do, and I’ll fire their asses the day they don’t. Y’all come on back here. You can have the VIP table today.” She dropped Kate’s hand and motioned for them to follow her, leading them through a maze of tables filled with people who had already been served.
“First class,” Waylon said as he seated Kate. “Thanks, Bobby Jo.”
“Anytime, darlin’.” She went up on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. “I loved this man’s daddy. He always left me a dollar tip just for bringing him the menu. That’s all Grandpa let me do in those days. Your server will be with you in a minute.” As she left she pulled a set of sliding doors shut, leaving them in a small enclosure with a window facing a tiny little garden.
“This is great, Waylon,” Kate whispered.
“I’ve been in here dozens of times, and I didn’t even know there was a VIP table.” He grinned. “She must like you.”
The doors opened, and a waitress appeared with two glasses of water and a couple of one-page menus. “What can I get for y’all today?”
“I want the double bacon cheeseburger, chili cheese fries, and a Coors in the bottle. Longneck if you have it,” Kate said.
“Well, that was quick. How about you, sir?”
“The same, and add a foot-long hot dog with cheese and chili, no onions on anything for me,” he said.
Kate handed her the menu. “Hold the onions on mine, too.”
Waylon’s hand closed over hers. “You know this means we have to sit here and talk for an hour so the beer will be out of our system before we leave.”
“As long as we don’t talk about the murder, I don’t suppose that will be a hardship,” she said. “I have a question to get us started. Have you ever thought of drilling for oil on the ranch?”
The waitress brought their beers and set them down. He took a long sip of his before he answered. “No, thank you. We make a fine living with our Angus cattle. I might look into the equipment to make big round bales of hay in the next couple of years, though. It would mean not having to go out to feed cattle twice a day. But I’d rather talk about something other than ranching.”
“Such as?”
“You. The future. What happens when your vacation ends? How much I like the color of your eyes. Those could be starters,” he said.