Page 25 of The Spite Date (Small Town Sisterhood #1)

“And that’s what happens when you don’t mind your manners,” I tell them. “Apologize to Ms. Best.”

“You’re being a stick-in-the-mud like Mom,” Eddie mutters.

“We don’t ask ladies who they’re shagging.” My head hurts entirely too much for this. Why did I think the toddler years were difficult? “It’s rude at best and will land you in a police cell for harassment at worst.”

“Speaking of jail, you didn’t have to sleep it off at the pokey palace last night, did you?” Bea asks me.

The pokey palace.

Calling a jail cell the pokey palace would be bloody hilarious were I not suddenly sweating merely because she looked at me.

“We got him home safe and sound as promised,” Tank tells her.

Finally, she smiles at me, those dimples popping out and warmth coming into her lovely green eyes. “Feeling okay?”

“Bloody awful,” I confess, though her smile, when aimed at me—it’s helping.

Tremendously.

I might be in a spot of trouble here.

“Awful in a you-need-another-corn-dog kind of way, or awful in a please-just-give-me-fries-and-a-Coke kind of way?”

I straighten. “Fries and a Coke, please.”

“You got it. How many corn dogs, hamburgers, fries, and drinks for the rest of them?”

I look at my boys in turn, releasing my hold on Charlie’s mouth.

“We’re sorry, Ms. Best,” Charlie says.

I almost believe him.

Hudson clearly doesn’t if the scowl on his face is any indication. I do believe it’s got even scowlier with that apology.

Eddie shrinks against me. “Really, really sorry.”

“We won’t ask anyone who they’re shagging again.”

“We’ll forget the word even exists.”

“You better,” Hudson says. “That’s not funny. It’s rude and inappropriate in every situation.”

“Yes, sir,” they both chime.

He draws back, clearly horrified. “And don’t fucking sir me. How old do you think I am?”

“Thirty?” Eddie guesses.

“At least twenty-eight,” Charlie adds.

I rub my brow and sigh.

“I’m spitting in their burgers,” Hudson says to Bea.

“Don’t think I’d stop him today,” Butch muses.

Her smile beams brighter than the sun. “I’m so glad I’m not parenting teenagers anymore.”

I do very terrible maths and order a bunch of food for all of us, then we step aside and wait.

While I watch her with her other customers.

She doesn’t look my way despite my every wish that she would.

When Hudson calls our number, Tank, Charlie, and I step up to the window to pick up the food.

“Bea?” I say.

She glances over in the middle of writing down an order. “Yes?”

“How long are you here today?”

She checks her watch, and I look at it too, though I’m more interested in her slender wrist and the red nail polish I didn’t notice last night.

It sparkles, much like her dress did.

Had I not got plastered last night, I might have had the opportunity to peel it off her.

The dress, of course.

Not the nail polish.

Though I wouldn’t have minded had she left some of that nail polish embedded in my back after?—

I clear my throat and tell my cock to stand down.

“About two more hours,” she says, answering a question that I’d quite forgotten I asked.

I shake my head, regret it instantly, and suck in a breath while my cock calms all on its own thanks to the headache.

Ah, yes.

I remember what I was about. “Would you like to walk around the carnival with us when you’re done?”

The couple beside me giggles.

Bea’s cheeks flush. “I?—”

“Yes, she would,” Hudson says. “She’s free in an hour, actually. Daphne’s coming to relieve her.”

“She is not,” Bea hisses at Hudson.

“She will when I tell her you need her to.”

“Margot’s in town.”

“Margot’s a workaholic who’ll be relieved to have time to hit a coffee shop and catch up on email.”

The couple waiting for their food titters harder. I’m aware they’re studying me, and I refuse to look back.

After a round of silent communication between Bea and Hudson, she smiles back at me again.

It’s an edgy smile. Not an altogether happy smile. Possibly a suspicious smile. “Can you check back in an hour?”

“Certainly. Thank you.”

I retrieve the last of the food with Tank and Charlie waiting for me, and we join Eddie, Butch, and Pinky on a small patch of grass that they’ve claimed behind the car park.

The chips and soft drink help immensely, and by the time we’re done, it’s been nearly an hour.

I spot Daphne stepping into the back of the bus, and a few moments later, Bea departs the same way that I assume I did last night.

Except for the part where she’s awake and not being carried or dragged along by a security team.

She’s traversing the ground on her own two legs.

I jump to my feet, only to realize that my body is still operating on bubbly time. My body teeters, then totters, and I quickly resume my position sitting on the ground, sending a shockwave from my tailbone up to my neck.

Mostly because my legs have insisted upon it.

And my head is in solid agreement.

Too soon for quick movements.

A dark haze clouds my vision momentarily, and when I blink through it, Bea’s kneeling before me, holding out a basket and a bottle. “More fries and another Coke?”

And I’m once again reminded that I don’t care that I was angry with her before.

Not when she’s an angel with a hangover cure.