“It won’t take both of us to do that chore,” Jill said.
“Probably not, but I need to catch up on book work, so you might as well go together and go on and get some supper before you come back. I’ll get you the papers for the truck and a check for the tag. I shouldn’t have put them in the glove compartment when they came. If they’d been layin’ out where I could see them, I wouldn’t have let it go so long. Sawyer, there’s a cute little doughnut and ice cream shop on California Street, not far from the tag agency, that makes the best tortilla soup. Y’all should go there.”
“We will, and don’t worry, we’ll be back in time for chores and to take care of the bar,” he said.
Gladys handed the papers off to Jill, who took them and headed out the door. “If you are going with me, you’d best slap that cowboy hat on and grab your coat, Sawyer.”
“This is such a treat,” Jill said as she tossed the keys to her truck to Sawyer and buckled her seat belt. “I am so excited that we get some time out of Burnt Boot.”
“You could have called Callie and had a manicure,” Sawyer said.
“I’d rather have tortilla soup and ice cream afterwards.” She smiled.
They were halfway there when she slapped the dash and said, “Dammit!”
“What did you forget? Your purse? Not to worry, I have money in my pocket, and I don’t think two bowls of soup and a couple of dips of ice cream is going to break me,” he said.
“No,” she groaned.
“Are you afraid it’s a date?” he asked.
“You are getting warm.”
“What, then? Just spit it out.”
“Aunt Gladys and Aunt Polly are matchmaking, and we are the subjects. We are getting along, so they are hearing wedding bells and seeing grandchildren.”
He chuckled. “You are kiddin’ me.”
“Nope, I’m not kiddin’. There was no reason to send us both to do this errand, and absolutely none to tell us to go out to supper. They’re afraid I just might fall for a Brennan or a Gallagher. And with them getting up over eighty, and dammit, I forgot about Verdie.”
“What about Verdie?”
“She’s got all those adopted grandkids, and she brags about them all the time. Aunt Polly and Aunt Gladys will be feeling the pinch and wanting some of their own,” Jill said.
“Well, I got to admit”—Sawyer’s smile brightened the whole cab of the truck—“an O’Donnell is better than either one of those, even if we are paupers by their standards. And, Jill, any children you produce won’t be their grandchildren.”
“Don’t tell either of them that, or Aunt Gladys will fire you.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked out the side window.
“Well, darlin’, don’t let knowing what they are up to spoil our afternoon out of town. We shall eat soup and ice cream and enjoy our time without having to think about feuds or red roses or women with wandering hands,” he said.
“Make it backfire? I like that,” she said. “Since I can’t cook this afternoon, I’ll buy a dozen doughnuts to take home for our midnight snack.”
“Just a dozen? I can eat that many on the way home and still need a bedtime snack. O’Donnell men are all blessed with a sweet tooth. We’ll each buy a dozen. If they don’t stay fresh, we’ll microwave them and dip ’em in hot coffee.”
Jill nodded in agreement. “I wonder if they freeze well.”
Sawyer nodded and swung out onto I-35 heading south. “Bank first, and from what Gladys said, we can park there and walk to the tag agency and to the café. If you see a store in between, we’ll have plenty of time for you to browse.”
“And if there’s a nail shop, I can go in and get my toenails done?” she teased.
“Of course you can. I’ll get mine done too,” he shot right back.
“Be careful, Mr. O’Donnell, I might make you do just that.”
The bank didn’t have a waiting line, so they were through in less than ten minutes. It would have been quicker if they hadn’t had to count the money twice to make it agree with the deposit slip Gladys had made out. The lady in the tag agency didn’t have a single customer, so Jill was in and out in five minutes, tag in hand as she left.
They were on their way to the pastry shop when Jill got a case of guilt fever. She checked her watch and dug in her purse for her phone. “I’m going to call Aunt Gladys. What if there’s been another fight in the store and she needs us?”
Sawyer pushed a lock of dark hair back off his forehead. “If I was either one of those feuding guys, I damn sure wouldn’t mess with Gladys.”
“How are things?” she asked when Gladys answered.
“Haven’t had a customer since you left, so I’ve gotten caught up on paperwork. It’s like the eye of a tornado, but why are you calling me? You are supposed to be having some fun,” she said.
“Why did you say that about a tornado? Are there clouds coming in? Do we need to come back right now?”
“Polly called and said there is a meeting at River Bend. Something is coming. There’s a change in the air. But it won’t happen today, so go enjoy yourself. Be young and free and forget all about what’s going on here. Good-bye,” Gladys said.
“Oh, yeah!” Jill pushed the “end” button. “They are definitely matchmaking.”
He draped an arm around her shoulders. “What do you want to do about it?”
“Nothing. Let them have their fun,” she said.
“I vote that we take doughnuts home to them. I bet Polly would love some, and maybe if we get there in time, we could even take some to Verdie for staying with Polly,” Sawyer said.
Jill stopped so quick that Sawyer took two steps before he realized she’d slipped out from under his arm. He dropped it to his side and looked back with a question in his expression.
“Damnation!” She pointed.
Kinsey Brennan was sitting in a booth in the little café, with a huge banana split in front of her.
Sawyer grinned. “They’re everywhere. They’re everywhere. Name that song.”
“It’s ‘he’s everywhere, he’s everywhere,’ and it’s a Ray Stevens song.”
“You got it. You win one maple-iced doughnut with sprinkles. Now, sugarplum, honey bunch, cutie pie, you know we got to act like lovers should, because Santa Claus”—he wiggled his dark eyebrows—“is watchin’ you. And he’s everywhere, he’s everywhere.”
She giggled. “I don’t think that’s what the lyrics say.”
“It’s pretty damn close.” He laced his fingers with hers. “If Aunt Gladys wants to play at matchmaking, then we’ll act like lovers should. I damn sure don’t want to be on Santa’s shit list come next Christmas.”
“And what better way to get news back to Burnt Boot than through a bitchy Brennan, right?” Jill squeezed his hand.
Sawyer touched her cheek with his palm. “Are you blushing? The wielder of the shotgun? The beer-slingin’ bartender with a blush on her face?”
“Oh, hush, or I won’t protect you when she tries to undress you in public. And you know what, this might be the answer to any more badgering for dates. We can pretend that we are dating.”
Kinsey looked up, smiled, and waved when they were inside the shop. The grin quickly faded, though, when she saw that Sawyer was holding Jill’s hand.
“Hey, Kinsey,” Jill called out. “What’s that you’ve got there? It looks pretty good.”
“Brownie fudge banana split. They just started making them this week. I’m addicted already,” Kinsey said. “Sawyer, get a spoon from the clerk and come share it with me, or better yet, come sit with me, and I’ll feed it to you one bite at a time off my fingertips.”
“They don’t give up, no matter what,” Sawyer said out of the corner of his mouth. “Jill and I have our hearts set on a bowl of soup before we have dessert. You go on and enjoy every bite of it all by yourself,” Sawyer said.