Well, she should…but she found herself resisting the urge to seek out Pierce instead. She’d heard nothing from him since he’d tried to teach her to play pool. Admittedly, she was a little disappointed. It was foolish, but she’d hoped he might ask her on a date.
Is he really the dinner-and-a-movie type?
She needed to clear him from her head. Seeking Pierce out, even to thank him with cookies, had been impulsive, reckless, and desperate—three things she’d never been with a man. But he filled her with such exciting, unexpected feelings. Forgetting him was impossible.
“You can do that after church tomorrow,” her father insisted. “I know it’s an imposition, but we have a duty to this town. I can’t see to these people myself, and I raised you to think of others first. I need you, baby.”
And there it was, the button he pushed ruthlessly anytime she resisted doing something he asked. It only worked because he was right. She would feel terrible if she put her needs above those around her. “I’ll take care of everything.”
He smiled. “That’s my girl. So Cutter is taking you to breakfast before your first appointment this morning?”
“He is.” And she felt a giddy, guilty excitement at being able to get out of the house and relax for an hour.
“You ought to marry that boy. His daddy was a drunk, and Sweeney was better off without Rod, but Cage and Cutter both turned out to be good boys. Cutter would take care of you, Brea.”
He would, and they would both be miserable. “We’re friends, Daddy. That’s all.”
“So you keep saying.” He sighed. “Then I’ll pray you find a righteous, God-fearing man who makes you happy.”
Brea sighed. Her father didn’t mean to sound either old-fashioned or judgmental, but she wasn’t going to change him. “Thank you.”
A knock put an end to their conversation. Brea hustled to the door and let Mrs. Collins in just as Daddy took his first bite of toast and downed one of his pills. “Good morning.”
After some small talk, Jennifer sat on the ottoman at her father’s feet and smiled when her father grumbled about LSU’s first football game of the season still being another two weeks away. Thankfully, Cutter let himself in a moment later. Brea kissed her father’s cheek and promised to check in before thanking Mrs. Collins for spending the day with him.
Forty minutes later, she found herself picking at her plate, dreading the two shampoo-and-sets on her schedule…and wondering again if Pierce had decided he wasn’t interested in her after all.
“You’ve barely touched your waffle, Bre-bee.”
Brea glanced up at Cutter and forced a smile. “That’s not true. It’s just a lot of food. Want the rest?”
“You know I don’t eat that crap.”
“But how do you choke down six eggs and a half a chicken for breakfast?”
“I’m a growing boy.” He patted his flat stomach, which she knew was all abs. “And I need protein to keep up my strength.”
“You’re plenty strong,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Thanks again for getting me out of the house this morning.”
“You’re welcome. I figured you needed a break, and Jennifer Collins is all too happy to play nursemaid to your dad.”
She swatted his arm. “You make it sound like they’re engaging in hanky-panky.”
Cutter shrugged. “It wouldn’t surprise me. They both lost their spouses years ago, and I think they’re sweet on each other.”
“That hardly means they’re having sex,” Brea insisted in a low hiss. “Daddy had heart surgery less than three weeks ago, and they’re not married.”
“But if they were lovers, you’d forgive him, wouldn’t you? He might be a preacher, but he’s also a man.”
What was Cutter getting at? “That’s for God to judge, not me. But Daddy isn’t the sort to commit carnal sins.”
Her best friend leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You’re twenty-two years old, and your mama died shortly after you were born. Do you really think he’s gone more than two decades without sex because he’s a man of God?”
Brea squirmed. “I try not to think of it at all.”
“Yeah, I try not to think about who’s been ‘comforting’ Mama since my dad ran off decades ago. But I’m telling you now, don’t be shocked if your father is involved with someone. My money is on Mrs. Collins.”
“That’s absurd. She’s just a very kind lady.”
He scoffed and shook his head. “Bre-Bee, when you’re confronted with things you don’t know how to handle, you have a habit of burying your head in the sand. That won’t always work.”
“I don’t like conflict,” she defended. “How does it not upset you?”
“Sometimes it’s a necessary evil.”
Like his job, which she didn’t like much, either. “I guess I should go. Gabrielle Brown is bringing her mama in this morning. They’re both insisting on having a perm. Gabi swears those are coming back in style.”
“She’s got hair down to her ass.”
“Backside,” she corrected. “And you’re right. So it’s going to be a long day.”
“Then let’s get you to work.”
Cutter stood, tossed a few bills on the table, then escorted her out of the restaurant. They were surrounded by familiar faces who stared, probably either wondering why the two of them weren’t married or when they would be. Wouldn’t they all be surprised to know that she’d never had a romantic thought about him…but she’d had more than a few lustful fantasies about the tattooed military assassin he worked with?
She waved to some of the townsfolk across the room, then stopped to admire Mrs. Jenkins’s granddaughter, who had just turned four yesterday. Cutter urged her along, his hand on the small of her back, until they finally reached the sidewalk.
“I thought we’d never get out of there.” He wriggled like he wore a too-tight sweater.
She laughed. “You like people as long as you’re protecting them.
