Page 4 of Crossing the Line (Small Town Love #7)

Her heart stuttered in her chest.

He hadn't called her Janey in...

In...

"Why don't you sit down."

A hand touched her arm, and she looked down.

Big, strong, manly.

Janice lifted her chin with a snap and backed away.

"Ahem..."

Moira's snippy voice was like a lifeline and Janice locked onto it, turning to look at the older woman.

Moira had folded her arms across her chest and was tapping her foot on the hard concrete floor.

"You're dangerously close to crossing over the line, young man."

It was true. Bixby's booted foot was on the line but hadn't quite crossed over to her side of the market.

He lowered his hand from her arm and stepped back.

Janice felt a chill roll through her.

Why did she miss his touch?

BIXBY

What the hell had he just done?

Stepped on the line.

Touched her.

It wasn't really his fault.

Right?

Janice looked... off.

Stunned in a way.

Had Moira said something really out there?

Something outrageous?

He felt one brow lift up and a muscle tensed in his jaw.

He was just about to suggest that Janice take a break when she brightened her expression. "What did you want to say about the tree, Moira?"

Janice's tone wasn't short, but it wasn't her normal generous tone either.

If Moira noticed it, she didn't say.

Hell, her expression didn't change either.

Moira might be the biggest busybody in Saint Raphael, but she was usually pretty thick-skinned.

Maybe she'd missed the change in Janice.

He didn't though.

Not that he'd admit it openly, but he noticed pretty much everything about Janice.

Including when she'd started using a different shampoo and her hair was shinier.

It looked good on her.

Just like everything she wore.

Janice always looked good.

"... and I've been studying that oak in your yard-"

Moira stopped short and looked at him and then Janice in turn.

"Yards. With an 'S.'"

She smiled and the expression looked a little smug, like an animated snake. But not an evil one. A little silly perhaps, but still intent on getting her way.

"I just think you two should have an arborist come out and take a look at it. It looks... a little off."

"A little off?" Bixby couldn't seem to stop himself from mimicking her words. "I'm not sure what that means."

Moira turned and squared off with him. "Has anyone ever told you that you're infuriating at times?"

He couldn't help the smile that curved his lips as he looked past Moira at Janice.

When they'd been married, they'd had a number of times when Janice had been upset with him for one thing or another and she'd thrown her hands up in the air to tell him that he was the most infuriating person she'd ever known.

She'd never hit him or anything like that. Janice wasn't that person, but she was passionate.

Challenging.

Colorful.

"Yes, Moira. Some of the best people have found me infuriating."

She lifted her chin. "Then I'm in illustrious company."

The sensor chimed over the door to the butcher shop sounded and he knew he had new customers.

Smiling at Moira and casting a quick glance in Janice's direction, he prepared to give into Moira's pressure. It was the lesser of many evils including giving Moira the opportunity to run roughshod over him even longer.

"I'll have someone come out and look at the tree."

Moira was satisfied at the answer. At least she gave him one of her Cheshire Cat grins and nodded like a mountain sage. "That will be satisfactory."

Behind the older woman, Janice clapped a hand over her mouth to stop from laughing out loud.

Bixby knew why she was doing it that way.

Moira might misunderstand and start to argue.

Neither of them wanted her to do that with them for any reason, let alone in the store.

So Janice smothered her laugh and moved away to talk to another customer while Bixby stepped back and headed for the meat counter, leaving a satisfied Moira behind him.

He really didn't mind her butting in every now and then.

Where they lived in Saint Raphael, they didn't even need a Neighborhood watch program.

They had Moira Lundin.

She somehow managed to monitor everyone's lives from the comfort of her home and succeeded in making people uncomfortable when she felt like it.

She was a force of nature.

She'd also been keeping tabs on everyone around her for decades.

That took a lot of time and effort.

The two men waiting at the counter really didn't need to talk to him, they were carrying on quite the conversation between themselves. Bixby didn't even try to interject any comments into their back and forth while he filled their orders.

He didn't mind. He certainly had his hands full with the laundry list of meats that Wallace Malone had given him to fill.

As the owner of Malone's Mufflers & Meats, a unique combination of a mechanic shop on one side of the building and a completely separate cafe serving local families for decades.

Bixby was happy to have Wallace as a long-time loyal customer.

The man ordered a ton of meat every week for his business, and it was customers like Wallace that helped Bixby keep his business as healthy as it was.

That was the nature of small towns.

Businesses supporting each other. People supported each other, too.

He'd married into the Saint Raphael community, and it had taken him a little bit of time to get used to the oddities of life in a small town surrounded by a thriving agricultural community, but he'd done it.

He'd done it for Janice and the life he saw them building there.

The business.

And the family they'd hoped for and never quite achieved.

When he was done, cutting and grinding the meat that Wallace needed for his week ahead, Bixby quickly packed it all up and put it into the crates that Wallace brought with him.

When he brought the first one to the counter, Wallace and his son looked up.

Grayson spoke first. "Do you ever get tired of my dad coming in with a list of meat that looks more like supplies for a ravening football team than anything else?"

Bixby had to smile at that. "I'm always happy to fill any order, big or small, but big does make me happy. The more you sell the more I do it. It's a good relationship."

Wallace nodded. "I'm thinking of putting a sausage special meal on my menu now that you've got that machine back there."

Bixby grinned at him. "Just tell me what you want, and I'll put it together for you."

Wallace looked at his son who was a top-notch orthopedic doctor. "The last time I picked up your special, Grayson bought sandwiches for his office staff."

Grayson laughed softly. "Today, I'm bringing sausages home for Stella and the kids."

"Kids," Bixby nodded, smiling, "how many do you and Stella have now? Two... three?"

Wallace smacked Grayson on the back with a look a pride on his face. "They'll have four by Christmas."

Bixby's eyes widened at his words. "Four? That's wonderful!"

Grayson sighed, but his smile was warm and brilliant. "Stella insists that we're going to have her Bed and Breakfast staffed by the kids soon."

"I'm still hoping that at least one will go into medicine."

Wallace nodded. "And the military, like you."

Bixby had forgotten that part of Grayson's past. He'd been part of a special forces team during his time in the military. Something that Bixby could never have dreamed of.

"Let me grab the other boxes for you."

Grayson leaned on the counter. "Do you want a hand with those? I can come and get them for you."

While he didn't doubt the other man's words, there was something else Bixby had to consider.

"Sorry. Health and Sanitary regulations. I can't have anyone behind the counter who isn't trained and certified."

Grayson's smile widened. "Then you're in luck. I get certified when my dad does. I've been working at the diner since I was old enough to carry a tray."

Bixby shook his head. He should have known that.

"Sounds great. You can save my old back." He waved at Grayson to follow him. "Follow me."

Bixby was going to let Grayson pick up one of the crates, but the younger man put one on top of the other and lifted it with an ease that had Bixby grimacing.

"Is this it?"

He raised an eyebrow at that. Those two crates at one time were likely to make him head home later and go straight to the medicine cabinet in his bathroom for the Icy Hot roll-on he kept there.

When he and Janice had been married, she'd used the creme on his back, rubbing it in for him.

She'd always joke about her fingers. 'They might just catch fire if I'm not careful.'

He'd roll his eyes at her joke while she always seemed to enjoy her jokes too much to pay any attention to his reaction.

At the time, it had been mildly irritating, but since then he found himself listening closely when she'd laugh at something a customer said.

He listened in even more when he heard Janice joking about something.

He didn't want to say anything about it where she could hear, but her sense of humor had grown on him after the divorce.

It was something he'd come to grips with in silence.

After all, who was he going to say that to?

It certainly wasn't something he could say to Janice.

If he did, he snorted at the idea, she'd likely never let him hear the end of it.

She'd probably pester him with more of her jokes just to get under his skin!

Bixby moved ahead of Grayson to open the door for him to take the order out to his SUV.

There were things better kept under wraps.

The two of them had a nice co-existence as it was.

Half of the building.

Half of the parking spaces.

Half of the land they'd bought.

Half of the house they'd both fallen in love with.

Was it worth it to threaten the balance that they'd fallen into?

Bixby knew about a dozen couples who’d broken up in the time that he'd known them, and a handful of couples who'd divorced. None of them were able to live near each other, let alone work side by side with each other.

It was just safer to keep some things quiet.

Locked away.

He didn't want to rock the boat.

After all, he'd never learned to swim.