Love, Exes, and Ohs (Cactus Creek #4)(21)

“I’m so happy for you guys. I know how hard you all have worked with him.”

“You should’ve seen his dad, Xo. He was so damn proud. God, that was a good moment.”

“So what’re you doing calling me? You should be out there celebrating right alongside them. You deserve it.”

“Nah, I’m going to turn in soon for the night. Been a long couple of days. I’d rather talk to my favorite girl up until I pass out.”

She smiled and cuddled up to her pillow. She’d always loved hearing Isaac’s deep, sleep-heavy voice. Hot. And always more affectionate, too.

“Tell me something fun, babe. To give me good dreams tonight.”

“You’re the one in the city of sin. You should be the one sharing stories with me. It’s the same old, same old here.”

“Really? Beacuse I think a few of your fellow townfolk would beg to differ.”

Great. She hadn’t realized the Cactus Creek gossip line covered the entire continental U.S.

That’s what she got for not choosing a restaurant a good distance outside of town limits.

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked innocently, wanting him to show his cards first and see what he knew. Since her date earlier had gone to college with Quinn, Luke, and Isaac, there was a good chance Isaac had met him in the past. She didn’t want to unintentionally bash his friend.

“Well, based on the photo someone texted me—?

A photo? Dammit, the folks of Cactus Creek took nosiness to a whole new level.

His grin grew audibly wider. “If I had to fathom a guess, I’d say someone had a ‘happy ending’ during dinner.”

She wondered if she could get a copy of that photo for her scrapbook.

“And is that the new Italian restaurant that just opened up? You didn’t get yourself thrown out of a restaurant we haven’t even had a chance to try out yet for lewd public conduct, have you, young lady?”

“Perv. It wasn’t anything dirty. It was a misfortunate accident with food.”

“Could’ve fooled me. Okay, so tell me what exactly I’m looking at here.” He sounded like he’d switched to speaker.

Wouldn’t put it past him to be looking at the photo now so he could get a visual while she explained what had transpired.

Okay, so clearly he wasn’t besties with the guy. Whew.

“It was an innocent accident,” she lied outrageously. “It could’ve happened to anyone. I was just reaching for the little bowl of parmesan cheese for my pasta when I ‘accidentally’ knocked it onto my date’s lap. Wouldn’t have been so terrible if the little dish of balsamic olive oil dip for the bread hadn’t somehow walked its way over from the middle of the table and hopped off the edge.”

Deep, soft laughter warmed the phone line.

“To be fair, I tried to help him wipe it up, but weirdly enough, it turned into a big cakey white paste.”

The laughter abruptly cut short. “He didn’t get mad at you or anything did he?” The promise of violence in his voice was primitive, but ridiculously sexy as well.

“No,” she replied softly, trying hard not to smile. “He was annoyed, but not angry. The date ended soon after.”

“Good.” Isaac yawned. “Hey, one question?”

The yawn was catching. She burrowed into her sheets more. “Yeah?”

“Don’t you hate parmesan cheese?”

“Hmm, not so much anymore. But after tonight, I don’t think Mr. Octopus Hands is going to be much of a fan.”

She could hear him smiling. And yawning again.

“Best bedtime story ever,” he murmured in a thick, muffled sleepy tone.

“Go to bed. I’ll see you at the baggage claim tomorrow. Text me when you land.”

“’Mkay. Miss you, Xo. Wish you were here.”

She sighed, wondering why he never said adorable things like that to her when he was awake.

Then again, she was one to talk. “I miss you too, Isaac. Sweet dreams.”





CHAPTER NINE


‘TOWNFOLK BREWERY NIGHT’ at Ocotillos was a brainchild of Xoey’s, and Isaac couldn’t be more proud of how much it was taking off.

Back when they’d been dating, before she’d become one of the co-owners of Ocotillos and had still been teaching pilates and dance in addition to bartending, she’d told him once about how she used to have her dance students work together to choreograph numbers at least once a season for a show in the town square. Just so they could feel how great it was to create something and watch it come to life, see it reach others.

He knew for a fact that those shows were always a hit, and the students had always been downright resplendent in their joy.

At the start of this year, when Xoey had officially stepped down as the pilates and dance classes over at the town rec center, she’d appointed one of those very students she’d once taught to be her successor. And that student had since kept Xoey’s tradition alive.

Months ago, during one of their usual late night phone conversations in bed, she’d confessed to him that while she loved everything about her career move, she did miss that one part of her old life—giving folks the chance to boldly, bravely let their creativity shine on stage.

In response, he’d simply asked her, “Well, then why don’t you do that at the brewpub?”