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. Heaven forbid you have to talk to them.”
He grinned. “You know me so well.”
“All my life.” She bumped shoulders with him. “That’s why you’re my best friend. What are you doing today?”
“Mama is working. Cage got off duty a few hours ago, so he’s on his way back to town.” He shrugged. “I might head back to Lafayette and run a few errands. You know, get ready to raise hell tonight.”
“As much as you hide it from me, I know you’re capable of that.”
Cutter opened his mouth to say something. The revving of a motorcycle cut him off. Brea turned—and stopped in her tracks when she spotted a big man in a black helmet, leather jacket, well-worn jeans, and combat boots cruising toward them.
Instantly, tingles sizzled across every inch of her skin, awakening her aching nipples. They shocked her even more by pooling between her legs.
Brea couldn’t see behind the man’s glossy black visor, but he handled his bike with easy confidence. He stared in a way that told her she was his sole focus. She was magnetically drawn to him, as if her soul compelled her to follow his. Only one man had ever affected her that way, and every time she saw him, the feeling grew stronger.
Pierce Walker.
Was he in Sunset looking for her?
With his stare still glued to her, he revved his engine again and turned off Napoleon Avenue, heading left on Landry. She craned her head to watch until he disappeared behind the buildings and she couldn’t hear his engine anymore.