Tucker’s gaze bounces between Poppy and me. “What’s wrong with my girl?”
“Your girl?” I question.
“She’s sick,” Nan answers, saving Tucker’s ass from getting beat by me this time.
“She is?” I ask Nan.
I think about how I saw her this morning. Something definitely wasn’t right with her, and this might explain it. I didn’t even consider that she might have been sick. I guess I just assumed she ran a little too hard.
Nan takes a seat on a stool. “Yeah, she called out for the day at the bakery. She’s got the flu, or the stomach bug, or the plague. Hell if I know, but Lily said she didn’t sound good.”
I turn to look at the clock on the wall.
Another two hours before I’m out of here.
I’m fighting the urge to run out of here to make sure she’s okay. I don’t understand why, because she’s not mine to worry about.
“That’s a shame,” I finally say.
A knowing grin spreads across Nan’s face, but she says nothing.
Tucker notices and looks back at me. “Anything you want to tell us?” he asks, only adding fuel to the fire. But before I can respond, his eyes widen. “Wait a second. Are you finally getting some action with City Chick?”
“Stop calling her that,” I snap. I pick up the dishrag and start wiping down the already clean bar top to keep busy.
Nan snaps her fingers before pointing toward me. “He’s not denying it!”
I drop the rag on the counter, place both palms down in front of me, and stare at Nan. “Nothing is happening between us,” I say, before turning my gaze on Tucker. “And nothing will,” I lie again.
“Why did your voice just sound all squeaky with those last words.” Nan laughs.
“I’m fine,” I say as I grab the discarded dishrag to wipe the counter again.
“Something’s totally happening,” Tucker barks out a laugh. “That came out squeaky too.”
“Nothing is. Now, both of you drop it. I’m not having this discussion again,” I snap. I look at the clock again, and then at Tucker. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work anyway?”
He looks down at his watch. “Shit. Yeah.”
I shake my head. “Let me guess, a fifteen-minute break?”
“Yep.” He turns on his heel to make his way out the door. “Going on thirty-five minutes,” he shouts over his shoulder and is out the door.
Leaving me alone with Nan.
The one person in the world who never lets anything go.
I finally face her, and she just sits there with her hands crossed on the bar, staring at me. In all the years I’ve known her, I know she can read someone like a book.
“You care about her.” She breaks the silence.
“She’s my neighbor,” I scoff.
“And?”
“And…we look out for our neighbors.”
She tilts her head to the side, staring at me like I’m full of shit. “But you care about her more than that.”
