“I hear Marty is going to be stellar at quarterback this year.” Logan continued as if he hadn’t just barged in between her and Red.
The other man’s eyes were the size of dinner plates, and his signature flush had deepened to vine-ripe tomato red. “I sure think so, and Coach Lansky put together a great team this year, so we’re hoping for a state championship.”
It took a second to recover from the shock of Logan’s brazen full-frontal attack. Then she couldn’t believe she didn’t have smoke coming out of her ears. Resisting the sophomoric urge to give him a wedgie, Miranda cleared her throat instead.
Logan ignored her. “Well, you can depend on the bank to be a big booster supporter again this year.”
“Great. Our boys sure appreciate it.”
“Always glad to help a friend.” He clapped his hand against the other man’s shoulder.
She tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me.”
He glanced back. “You’re excused.” Then he turned away and started talking football again with Red.
For his part, Red’s eyes had gone huge, and his worried gaze flickered between Miranda and Logan as he slouched back until his butt was barely on the chair.
She jabbed her finger into Logan’s kidney. “We were in the middle of a conversation before you so rudely interrupted.”
“You were?” He stepped back, his face as innocent as a discount store Christmas tree angel. “I’m so sorry. What were you talking about?”
Red stared at the ground like he was wishing for a hole to open up. If it did, she was going to shove Logan in it.
“Repaving County Road Forty-Four,” she responded.
A divot of fake concern appeared between his eyes. “The one that leads to your very troubled little brewery?”
“That’s the one.” An angry heat enveloped her from toe to eyebrow. She was beginning to understand how this town had driven her family to act out.
“I’m curious, Red.” Logan stroked his dimpled chin. “Is that road high up on the county’s priorities?”
Red had nearly turned purple. “Well…”
“It’s been on the list for years,” Miranda snapped. The dam holding back a lifetime’s worth of repressed crazy started to crack.
“I’m sure there’s a reason for that.” He rolled back onto his heels, a benevolent look softening his eyes. “Times are tough. It can be hard to find the money for every worthy activity.”
The shithead. He didn’t come right out and link the bank’s booster club support to the road paving priorities, but he didn’t have to.
Red didn’t miss the innuendo. His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t flinch. “It’s a pretty low priority. I doubt we’ll get to it this budget year.”
Logan tsk-tsked. “Tough break, Miranda.”
She clenched her hands into fists. “I bet you think so.”
His laugh echoed through the dining room as he strolled out of the restaurant like a man who’d already won.
She couldn’t wait until he tripped over that big ego of his. And if she gave him a little extra push, that would make the victory even better.
Two days later, Logan was back at The Kitchen Sink, this time picking up a coveted slice of pecan pie, which he planned to eat in his office while going over the plans for the Martin Industrial Park. Nothing like a little comfort food to offset the lingering feeling that he was off his game. His dad was on his ass about the industrial park. Salvation’s Mayor Tyrell Hawson had horned his way into an upcoming meet and greet with an investor. And he couldn’t stop thinking about Miranda Sweet in ways that had nothing to do with the bet. He needed the pie.
“You’re lucky, this is the last one Ruby Sue is making for the rest of the year.” Ellen wrapped up the pie in waxed paper before putting it in a Styrofoam container.
His gut pinched, and his taste buds lodged a formal complaint. “Why would she do something like that?” Logan hadn’t cried in only God knew how many years, but two and a half months without pecan pie might be what it took to change that.
“She’s raffling off the recipe. Part of the agreement is she won’t make any fresh pies until after New Year.” She slid the container across the counter to him.