“And you just arrived today.” For some reason, I feel the need to drop that detail. It’s strange that we’ve managed to cover so many topics in a short amount of time. I’m not typically one who people consider talkative. Yet here I am, being overly social.
Audria combs her fingers through some blond strands. “Gah, don’t remind me. Hours of nothing to see but fields and pavement leave a lot to be desired.”
Gavin shrugs. “But once you arrived?”
She takes in our surroundings with a sweeping scan. “Totally worth it.”
He smacks his palms together. “Yes, sweets. That’s what I want to hear.”
I shoot him a glare, not that he notices. It’s real swell Gavin is getting along with Audria, but their camaraderie is almost too easy. Call me jealous, or maybe bitter, and I might fess up to harboring a feeling or two. I’m about to put the kibosh on their gabfest when she does one better.
Audria props her chin on an open hand. “You remind me of my brother. Tyler is a total goofball. I get that same vibe from you.”
Gavin doesn’t bother masking his sulking frown. Such a sore loser. “And there’s the friend zone. I wondered how long it’d take.”
I almost dust off my hands but settle for smirking at her swift execution of any potential chemistry between them. A job very well done, if I say so myself. My friend’s misfortune shouldn’t please me, unless it involves a woman I’m interested in. I contemplate the temptation to call dibs, just to be on the safe side. Real mature. Acting like that will get me axed without hesitation. Not that I want more than this afternoon from her. A harsh grunt sends a jolt through me. I’ll keep lying, and see where that leads me.
Circling the drain, sucker.
Fresh off the rejection wagon, Gavin pins his focus on me. “Where’s your sausage?”
I’m busy guzzling the rest of my Coors when he speaks. It nearly shoots from my nose as the question registers. “Pardon?”
“The wurst, man.” He holds his hands about a foot wide. “What gives? Those massive wieners are your favorite.”
I groan and tuck my chin. “Such a douche.”
“No wonder you’re in a foul mood.” Gavin tugs at the brim of my hat, and I smack his hand away.
Audria swivels in her seat, gaping at the food line. “Wait, there’s sausage? How did I miss that?”
“Usually,” I mutter. “They must’ve run out.”
“No surprise. Everyone loves a solid weenie. Guess you two will need to get porked elsewhere, which reminds me of an important question.” His eyes shine with the kind of trouble I want no part of. “What’s next on the agenda, fresh meat?”
She glares at him, her middle finger twitching on the table. “Other than getting stuffed with a footlong?”
He sucks in a breath through clenched teeth. “Damn, you’re feisty.”
“Thank you,” Audria singsongs.
“Am I really that much like your brother? You’ve barely given me a chance to prove otherwise.” His lashes fan at her fast enough to cause a gust.
Her gaze twinkles with mirth. “Positive.”
Gavin snaps his fingers. “Such a damn shame. But does that mean you’re cool hanging out with me as a loyal confidant?”
“Or gal pals,” I joke.
She taps her chin. “That could work. I miss my ladies something fierce.”
I curse a blue streak for my friend’s sake. “Hey, bro? Your man card called. It’s in serious jeopardy of expiring.”
Audria’s elbow jams into a soft space between my ribs. I almost double over from the sharp ache. “This is fun. Don’t ruin it for me.”
“He’s gullible enough to let you get away with anything,” I explain.
She flicks her gaze back to Gavin. “What do you suggest we do first?”
“I have so many ways I want to answer that, and none of them are proper.”
“You’re so bad,” she mutters.
Gavin flicks a piece of lint from his shirt. “I’ll apologize in advance, but that doesn’t mean you can dissuade my efforts to change your heart.”
I realize Audria is more than capable of handling herself, but I have a bad habit of running interference. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to push my buttons. But if you take him to get pedicures, I want picture evidence for his scrapbook.”
He grunts and flops back against his chair. “And if the roles were reversed, he’d be doing the same.”
“This is good practice,” she comments.
I wait a beat for her to elaborate. She doesn’t. “For?”
She nudges me again but without the painful punch. “Working with young children.”
“Hey.” Gavin slaps a palm to his chest, taking on an affronted expression. “Are you calling us immature?”
“But with more subtlety.”
Gavin lifts his chin at me. “Should we be offended?”
I scoff and shake my head. “It’s a bit late for that. You practically begged for it.”
“Look who’s calling the wheatfield gold,” he drawls.
“You’re really not related?” Audria glances between us with a crinkle in her brow.
“Fortunately. He’s worse than usual because you’re sitting next to me and not him.”
“Well, maybe it’ll be his turn with the new girl tomorrow.”
I take a liberty—small as it might be—and swipe a finger along her cheek. “Careful, or I might get jealous.”
Her skin heats under my touch. “I didn’t say who that girl would be. I can’t be the only unfamiliar face strolling down Main Street.”
“Summer tends to attract more visitor traffic,” I admit. “But none of them will hold the same sticking power as you.”
“Well, that’s sweet. Are you trying to stake a claim on me, farmer?”
“And what if I am?”
“I’d say you better buy me dessert first.”
“That can be arranged.”
“All right, class. Eyes up here.” I clap three times in quick succession, one of our cues for calling attention. Only a few heads turn my way.
“Kiddos.” I try again. “It’s time for circle. Then we can play outside while waiting for your parents.”
That last part gets the entire bunch rushing toward me like a herd of sugar-crazed roadrunners. The ground seems to quake under their tiny feet. Without an ounce of grace, they pile onto the alphabet rug in a heap of wriggling bodies and nonsensical chatter. What can I expect from a dozen pre-kindergarteners? These tykes have endless energy, as they should at ages four and five.
“Okay, okay. Let’s settle down.” Wishful thinking. “We had another great morning together. It’s Friday now, which means you won’t be at school for two whole days. Who knows why that is?”
Several hands shoot into the air.
I trace a finger through the eager beavers to raise anticipation but land on one before something shiny distracts them. “Yes, Harmony?”
“Um, it’s the weeks-end?”
I smile at her adorable pronunciation. “That’s right. And what does weekend mean?”