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Hud’s gaze locked on his plate. “No way.”

Ellen, the waitress in question, stopped by the table, their ticket already torn off and ready to be slapped on the table. “Anything else?”

Logan swallowed his automatic response, pausing to give his buddy a chance to engage the former Hamilton County Miss Soybean in conversation, but the only sounds were from the other customers’ conversations. He waited another few beats, but Hud just kept shoveling food into his mouth.

“Looks like we’re good.” Logan handed Ellen two twenties. “Unless there’s pecan pie?”

She chuckled. “You wish.” She took the twenties and turned her attention to Hud. “How about you? Need anything else?”

Like a horny twelve-year-old boy faced with a Victoria Secret’s model, Hud clamped his jaws together and gave her a thumbs up. Ellen shrugged and weaved her way through the crowded diner to the front register.

Logan shook his head. “You are a moron with shitty taste in food.”

Hud flipped him off. “Not everyone wants to go all bam-chica-wow-wow in a bank vault, you know.”

How many times did he have to relive the same fucking gossip shit storm? “I already explained—”

“Yeah, yeah. You have bigger problems than small town gossip right now.” Hud leaned forward. “Tyrell Hawson brought his Caddy in for a tune-up this morning. I overheard him on the phone telling someone that if the meeting with the developers tomorrow night didn’t go well, he was going to pull his support.”

“Fuck.” Logan rammed his fingers through his hair. “If Tyrell backs out, so will the others. I’ll be left with letters of intent to buy property and no funds to purchase it with. The deal will crash and—”

“Trouble ahead.” Hud jerked his chin toward the diner’s front door.

Miranda stood with her sister and chatted with Ruby Sue, who sat in her regular spot behind the register. Though Miranda and Natalie were two parts of the nearly identical Sweet triplets, only Miranda made his palms sweaty and had him questioning his sanity on a regular basis.

The ass-hugging pair of black pants she wore today reminded him of the lacy black panties that had haunted his dreams since that afternoon in the bank vault. He’d bet the bank that the soft pink of her sweater would match the rose of her nipples that had hardened under his tongue. Part of him stiffened at the memory of the jasmine perfume she’d worn and how her body had responded to his touch. He shifted in his seat, unable to look away from her. If he didn’t get ahold of himself soon, he’d pop the zipper on his pants.

Ruby Sue said something, Miranda laughed, and the warm sound of her happiness spilled down his spine, warming his body. Then, she turned toward the full dining room and the total force of her blue-eyed gaze hit him straight on, slamming against his body like a linebacker with a grudge.

He knew the moment she spotted him, because the smile that curled up the left side of her mouth a little higher than the right dropped into a flat line. After a quick word with Ruby Sue, Miranda and her sister found seats at the counter at the far end of the diner. Natalie shot his table a quick, questioning look, but Miranda only showed him the iron of her spine.

“Damn, I don’t think she’s really happy to see you.” Hud chuckled. “That’s the first time I’ve ever seen a woman shut you down without even saying a word.”

“Glad you’re enjoying the show.” Logan threw back the last of the sweet tea in his glass.

“Suck it up.” Hud pushed back from the table and stood. “It’s just Miranda Sweet. It’s not like you care.”

He flinched. “Exactly.” Logan got up and made his way to Ruby Sue to collect his change.

In a small town like Salvation where everyone was always in each other’s business, the last thing he needed was to have the lunch crowd at The Kitchen Sink report that he’d been mooning over Miranda. Still, he couldn’t help himself from sneaking one last look at the woman who, despite his protestations, had stopped being just another Sweet more than a few summers ago.

Miranda gulped the sweet tea, downing the glass in a few seconds before carefully placing it on the counter. Salvation was too small to think she could avoid Logan forever, but damn, she was down with trying. It was better than drooling all over him every time they crossed paths—especially when he wore the shade of dark blue he’d had on today. And the way his pants clung to his ripe ass was enough to make her revert to high school when she’d driven slowly by his house, circled the block, and made another pass.

“Do that again and you’ll go into sugar shock.” Natalie took a dainty sip of tea, pressing a paper napkin to her lips to catch any drops that dared to stray. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were considering Olivia’s idiotic advice.”

“Not in this lifetime.” Fantasized about Logan’s doctorate-degree-level kissing skills and hard body? Yes. Found excuses to do business on Main Street near the bank in hopes of catching a glimpse of Logan? Guilty. Considered paying him a midnight visit? No. Okay. Maybe a little. But only for a second—a long, hot second—before sanity resurfaced. The lust wasn’t the worst of it. No, that came after she’d brought herself to orgasm with her fingers when she’d lay in the dark, wishing they could be side-by-side, snuggled under the covers talking and teasing like they had by the riverbank all those years ago. Now that was dangerous territory.

“Good, because we all remember what happened last time.”

Miranda’s gut clenched at the reminder, and her heart slammed against her ribs. The eighteen-year-old her had been two breaths away from totally in love, and Logan had just been out for a little fun—something Miranda hadn’t realized until too late.

The sweet tea sloshed in her stomach. “Let’s change the subject.”

Natalie gave her a quick shoulder hug. “Tell me more about Marc Oberon.”

Now there was a safe topic. “Not much to tell. He’s with one of the top finance firms in Harbor City, and we’ve worked on a few deals together.”

Natalie deflated. “So, no romance?”


Tags: Avery Flynn Sweet Salvation Brewery Romance