Chapter One

Angela

“Fluff your boobs, he’s coming.”

I whip toward the front windows of the diner just as Logan Sawyer parks his cruiser. The letters spelling out crowley sheriff’s department are partially covered in mud and caked-on dirt, and I wonder what he’s been up to. My lips curl up at the sight of those thick biceps straining against his uniform shirtsleeves. So effortless and sexy, his lopsided smirk makes my insides flutter.

“Time’s a wastin’, Al.” Audrey pops open the top button of my polyester waitress uniform. “Al” is Audrey’s nickname for me, made up of my first two initials in “Angela Louise.” She says “Ang” or “Angie” reminds her of her second husband’s ex-wife and refuses to associate me with that “obnoxious thunder cunt.”

I check my reflection in a chrome napkin holder, blow my bangs out of my eyes, and shake my head. I see the same old face that Logan has seen our entire lives. “Does it even matter? If I can’t land the town player, then what does that say about me?”

She holds my face between her hands, squishing my cheeks. “All it says is that you haven’t even tried. I saw Psychic Sue last night and she mentioned a male whose name starts with the letter R will reappear—and good lord, please don’t let it be that no good, cheatin’ ass ex-husband of mine, Roger.” Audrey pauses, makes the sign of the cross before replacing her hands on my face. “And she also said, ‘now’s the time to seize any romantic feelings I’ve been harboring.’ Since most of my romantic feelings are for Chris Hemsworth and Flamin’ Cheetos, I assume she was seeing something in your future.”

“Why would you assume that?” I ask, my words mumbled until she releases my face.

“Because I always bring something of yours when I see Sue, since you won’t go. Stole your hairbrush last time.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s where my brush went? Audrey, Sue is about as psychic as this pie,” I say, pointing to a pecan pie sitting in the dessert case.

“First, don’t underestimate the power of pie. Second, I just feel it, kid. Today could be the day. Believe me. He’ll see you. Really see you. And when he does, your tits will look amazing. Today could be your Page One.”

I give her the smile she’s waiting for and nod. Audrey thinks that everyone has a story, already written, just waiting to start. Page One is where our destinies begin.

“Plus, I’m forty years old. I might die before you make a move on your own. Now, put some jiggle in your wiggle and be aggressive. B-E aggressive.”

She chuckles and slaps me on the ass as I grab the pitcher of sweet tea. We’re between the lunch and dinner rush, so the diner is almost empty. Logan takes a seat at the worn counter, where the old gold-fleck pattern has almost completely faded away. He removes his hat and sets it on the vinyl seat next to him before running his hands through his dark brown hair. Logan opens up a menu and looks over the selections—as if he hasn’t eaten here his entire life.

“Tea?” I ask with a voice so sweet it makes me want to gag. I straighten my posture and try to channel the confidence and sexual prowess of Black Widow. She uses her sexuality as a weapon of sorts. I’m certainly not above doing that.

“You know it,” Logan answers without looking up.

When he does meet my gaze, his blue eyes shine in the afternoon sun. I pour his tea and try not to stare when his tongue slides over his bottom lip as he reads today’s specials. Standing here in this awkward silence is making me sweat. I turn toward the kitchen in time to see Audrey squeezing her boobs together and leaning over the counter. Her jet-black ponytail swings back and forth as she makes exaggerated kissy faces. I laugh because I know these are supposed to be instructions for me, but it’s too ridiculous.

“I can’t decide today,” Logan says, snapping my attention to him. He’s looking back this time.

“Well, there aren’t any surprises here. I don’t think the menu has changed since before we were born.”

He smiles and it warms me from the inside out. “You’re right. Guess I’ll stick with the regular.”

“So, cheeseburger and fries?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

Logan nods and folds his menu closed. “Cheeseburger and fries.”

He’s distracted by a greeting from Mr. Jennings, and as soon as his eyes leave mine, I feel like I can breathe again. I write his ticket and turn it over to KC, our line cook, at the other end of the counter.

“Conversation, Al. Start a conversation.” Audrey is already next to me, poking me in the ribs.

“Ouch! Stop that. What am I supposed to say?”

She leans against the drink station and rolls her eyes. “I don’t know. ‘How’s the weather? How about those crop circles? Would you like a V.I.P. pass to my vagina?’ ”

“Oh my god,” I say with a groan. “Why am I asking you anyway?”

I grab a napkin and silverware and make my way back toward Logan.

“Because I’m older and wider,” Audrey stage-whispers.

“I think you mean wiser.”

Audrey cackles and heads over to the booths to check on her table, shaking her ass the whole way. Audrey calls herself fluffy, but I just see her as my best friend. Sure she’s a curvy lady, but it suits her. Her polyester uniform is one size too small and she likes it that way. I set down the napkin and silverware in front of Logan just as he’s waving good-bye to Mr. Jennings.

My brain frantically searches for something clever to say, something impressive. “Late lunch today?” Ugh. I’m such a moron.

“Yeah. Been busy helping set up for the Summer Festival.”

“Oh.” Where have all my smarts gone?

“Old Man Jennings must have found out I’m a judge in the Miss Crowley contest this year. Came to put in a good word for his granddaughter.” Logan looks out the front windows and back to me. “You know he offered me twenty dollars to make sure she’s a finalist? As if I could be bought.”

I hear someone clear her throat and glance over Logan’s shoulder to find Audrey miming humping one of the diner chairs. She points at me so animated, I can’t help but laugh.

“You think differently?”

Inside, I’m stuttering, flailing, trying to find the appropriate reply. Then I realize I’m just a frozen mouth-breather who’s been quiet for far too long.

“Umm.” Get it together, Angela.

“That’s all right,” he says with a teasing grin. “I’ll show you. Caroline Jennings won’t make it past the preliminaries.”

“I’m sure she won’t.” I play along.

The bell dings and I know that Logan’s food is ready, but dragging myself away now that I’ve got his attention is too hard.

“Just watch,” he says. “Hell, I won’t even let her in the building.”

“Now you’re just being unfair.” I lean over the counter, resting on my elbows. The girls are on display and it is not an accident. “Just because her grandfather tried to bribe you doesn’t mean you should discount her completely. She should get a fair chance just like everyone else.”

Logan’s eyes drift to my cleavage before he remembers his manners and meets my eyes again.

I press my lips together to keep from smiling. “I’m just saying, as a judge you’re supposed to be impartial,” I finish.

I turn to grab his lunch and internalize the squeal bubbling on my tongue. This is the longest exchange we’ve had since we were eight years old. Returning with his plate of food and a bottle of ketchup, I set everything down and smile. I hope that it’s relaxed and genuine and not a reflection of the chaos in my head.

“Impartial, huh?” he says, his eyes holding mine. There’s a hint of something playful there and I want to grab hold of it and never let go. “As a man of the law and a judge of local beauty pageants, I am certainly fair.”

“Sure you are.” I lean my hip against the counter as he takes a bite of his cheeseburger. I’m going for casual, but instead I probably just look awkward and lazy. Straightening my spine, I stand up taller and put my hands on my hips. “You were almost bought off for twenty dollars,” I point out.

“No way,” he protests with cheeseburger still in his mouth. Logan gives me an embarrassed grin before swallowing. “It would take a lot more than twenty dollars to buy my vote.”

“A lot more?” I twirl a piece of hair that’s fallen out of my ponytail around my finger. “Like what?”

“Pie.”

“Pie?”

Logan nods. “I like pie. Twenty dollars and pie could probably do it.”

I laugh as he throws that crooked smirk my way. The one I’ve fawned over for more than a decade. The one I pretend is just for me.

“Well, that doesn’t seem too steep. I mean, I have pie,” I say, motioning to the glass case holding today’s desserts. He shakes his head.

“No, the diner has pie,” Logan argues. “If you used the diner’s pie for your own personal gain, I believe that would be a form of stealing—maybe even embezzlement.”

“That sounds serious,” I say. My voice is breathy and softer than normal, my body’s automatic reaction to Logan Sawyer.

“It is a pretty serious offense. Could involve handcuffs.”

I swear my heart stops in my chest at the look he’s giving me. It’s the look that has dropped panties all over this county, and mine would be no exception.

“Well, then I’d say that the punishment might be worth the crime.” Inwardly, I’m celebrating such a brazen comeback. It’s forward, but not slutty. It lets him know I’m ready to play, but I won’t be conquered.

Logan grins so wide it splits his gorgeous face in half. Blue eyes hold mine and the air between us is electric. There are moments and then there are moments. I can feel this connection brewing, something more than small talk over greasy food. Maybe Psychic Sue was right. This could be our Page One.

The door of the diner whips open with a clatter; the bells tied to the handle bang against the frame. Lizzie Bergeron stands there with her hand on her heaving chest, like she’s been running a marathon. All eyes are glued to her.

It’s then that she utters the four words I’ve dreaded for the past three years. The four words that can undo everything I’ve done today. The four words that stop our story in its tracks.

“Wren Hart is back!”