MacKenzie Fire(66)

He laughs and moves closer, putting his hand on my hip. “Don’t worry about them. It’s just small-town bullshit. Same as everywhere else.”

I don’t move away from him immediately because I want to get more information from him. “So, what are they saying? About Andie, I mean.”

He sighs. “You’re going to make me tell you, aren’t you?”

I grin, seeing the defeat in his eyes. This was way easier than I thought it would be. “Yes. Don’t try to defy me. I can be very stubborn when I want to be.”

“I’ll tell you what,” he says, a twinkle in his dark eyes. He leans down closer. “You agree to go out with me one time, and I’ll agree to tell you what I know. How’s that sound?”

I chew on the inside of my cheek for a few seconds considering his offer, acting like him being this close is no big deal. “Lunch or dinner?” I’m stalling, trying to decide how this might play out with Ian. Will he be jealous? Mad? And what do I care what he’ll be about it? He’s just playing around with me to get back at Ginny. Maybe he even wants to get back together with her. He denied it, but guys do that crap all the time.

“Your choice,” Tate says. “Any meal, any place, any time, my treat.”

My eyebrows go up. He’s eager and somehow available at all hours of the day and night. Maybe he’s a rancher too. I find I’m kind of partial to that breed right now.

Since I have no other plans and the idea of hanging out with Ian anymore just feels like a recipe for heartbreak, I decide to go full speed ahead with my plan to solve the Andie-has-no-friends mystery.

“Breakfast,” I say. “Tomorrow morning at nine, the diner in town where Hannah Banana works.” I have no idea why I picked that place other than the fact that I don’t know any other spot in town besides the gun range and the hospital. Somehow neither of those venues seems to have the right atmosphere for giving him the third degree. Plus, at the diner I can mess with The Banana, which has proven to be pretty fun. That wench, trying to deny my pregnant BFF her herbal tea. Grrrr.

He narrows his eyes. “You look like pure trouble right now, you know that?”

I hold my hand out for him to shake it. “Good. Because that’s what I am if you don’t keep your end of the deal.”

He takes my hand but then leans down and gives me a soft kiss on the cheek. “It’s a deal. Sealed with a kiss.”

I’m about to smile and answer him, but he’s suddenly yanked from my grip.

“What the hell are you doing, man?!” an angry guy yells.

It takes me a split second before I realize it’s Ian, and he’s got Tate by his shirt at his shoulder.

“What the hell?!” Tate stumbles but then quickly rights himself. Glaring at Ian, he jerks his arm really hard to pull himself out of Ian’s grip. “Get off me, man!”

I back away until my legs hit the edge of a couch behind me. Boog is striding down the hallway from the kitchen in my direction.

“How ‘bout you get off my girl?” Ian says in a deadly calm voice. His face is beet red.

Tate stands up straight and fixes his shirt. Then he looks at me. “Funny … she didn’t mention being your girl when she set up a date with me.”

Boog stalls in the opening to the living room. He starts with what sounds like a warning, “Ian …”

Tate smiles, interrupting Boog so he can continue taunting Ian. “Sorry to break it to you, man, but she’s done with you. Can’t say as I blame her.”

I hold out my arm to stop what I see coming, but it does no good. Ian’s a couple feet away and then a second later he’s tackling Tate to the ground.

They smash into a television and bring it to the floor in a mighty crash of broken glass and plastic. Girls nearby scream and jump out of the way. The guys stand their ground or move to better sightseeing positions, their overriding goal to not spill their beers. Tate and Ian are both roaring insults at each other.

Boog comes over to me with his phone at his ear. “You ready to go home?” he asks, putting his conversation on hold as he waits for my answer.

“Um … yes?” I look at Ian and know that he’s not going to be ready to drive me anywhere for a while. He’s too busy trying to fight his way out of a headlock.

“She’s ready to go.” Boog says in his phone. He nods a few times while he listens to whoever is on the other end of the line and then looks at me. “I’ll tell her. Bye.”

I lose all interest in Ian and focus on Boog. “What’s up?”

“Mack’s outside waiting for you. Get your coat and I’ll walk you out.”

I look from Boog to Ian, the latter now in some kind of wrestling position on the floor, legs all tangled with Tate’s.

“What do you mean, Mack’s here?”

“He’s out in his truck. Come on.” Boog takes me by the upper arm and guides me over to the front door where my borrowed coat hangs.

I feel terrible. “I’m sorry about all this,” I say, gesturing back towards the other room where I can hear grunting and then another crash.

“Don’t worry about it. This is status quo for Ian. This’ll be the third TV he’s bought me.”

“And he’s still your friend?” I’m bewildered over Boog’s casual acceptance of the destruction of his property.