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His eyes narrowed. “Mimi? You’ve talked with her?”
“She called me yesterday and again this morning to check on me. She’s the one who talked me into taking a few days to figure things out . . . and the one who thought you wouldn’t mind me staying here.”
His eyes narrowed. “Of course she did.”
“Something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just starting to realize how ma—smart your grandmother is.” He glanced back at the television. “Are you that interested in this movie?”
“I’ve seen it about a hundred times. If you want to switch to something else, that’s fine with me.”
“Actually, I think I’d rather balance all this sugar with real food.” He got up and held out a hand. “Come on. Let’s go get some tacos.”
Ever since Belle could remember Tito’s Tacos truck had been parked in front of the town hall. The story went that Tito Senior had been relocating his family from El Paso to Dallas when his food truck had broken down in Wilder. Needing money for repairs, Tito had started making tacos and selling them to the townsfolk until he could get his truck fixed. But then other things started mysteriously happening to the truck—flat tires and missing engine parts. By the time all of those things got fixed, Tito and his family had gotten attached to Wilder and decided to stay.
Now Tito Junior ran the business and had added a variety of different tacos to the menu. Which, of course, made making a decision that much harder.
Belle studied the large chalk menu resting against the side of the truck. “I’m not sure if I want the fish tacos with mango salsa or the pulled pork with pico de gallo or the crispy chicken with spicy sour cream.”
Corbin looked at TJ, who was waiting to take their order, and shrugged. “I guess we’ll take two of each and a Dr Pepper and a Wild Cherry Pepsi.”
They ate their taco feast at the tiny tables on the sidewalk in front of the truck. Strings of fairy lights draped from the top of the truck over the tables and reflected in Corbin’s blue eyes like stars. Stars that Belle was having trouble looking away from.
“So?” he said once she’d tried each one of her tacos.
“Definitely, the fish tacos with mango salsa.”
“Pulled pork all the way for me.” He stole the rest of her pulled pork taco from the paper wrapper it rested on and finished it in two bites.
“Hey! Just because I like fish tacos better that didn’t mean I didn’t want the pulled pork too. It’s definitely number two.”
He shrugged as he finished chewing. “Why waste your time on second best?”
Since he had a good point, she couldn’t argue. But she did steal the rest of his fish taco. When he stared at her with surprise, she laughed and ended up choking on a chunk of fish. He was still thumping her on the back when Melba Wadley spoke behind them.
“Well, isn’t this a sweet scene right out of a romantic comedy? I didn’t realize you two were dat—No, Mickey Gilley!”
While Corbin and Belle watched in stunned horror, a big fuzzy dog pushed his way between them and devoured what was left of their tacos.
Melba grabbed the dog—that looked like a poodle mixed with Great Dane—by the collar and tugged him back from the table. “Now, Gilley, that’s not the way to make a good first impression.” The dog sat down on his haunches and licked his chops before sending Belle a sheepish grin that made her laugh.
“Well, hello, Gilley.” She reached out to pet him, but Corbin stopped her.
“No, Bella!” Even her surprise at his sharply spoken words didn’t stop the warmth his nickname always evoked. “Don’t show any signs of liking that dog or he’ll be yours. That’s how I ended up with Taylor Swift.”
He was right. Melba Wadley worked for Belle’s brother-in-law, Sheriff Decker Carson, and a nicer woman you’d never meet. But when it came to finding homes for her foster animals, she was tenaciously stubborn. The last thing Belle needed was a huge dog . . . with the sweetest face she’d ever seen. Even covered in sour cream.
“Now what are you talking about, Corbin,” Melba said. “You love Tay-Tay and Gilley will make a perfect companion for Belle. Especially since I heard she’s disowned her family.”
Belle stared at her. “Where in the world did you hear that? I didn’t disown my family. I would never do that. I’m just . . . taking a break.”
Melba looked confused. “A break from family? That just don’t make sense. You’re stuck with family . . . unless you have a falling-out.” She eyeballed Corbin. “And I think I can figure out what the falling-out is about. You’re dating the enemy.”
Corbin didn’t seem at all taken back, but Belle was.
“Firstly, Corbin and I are not dating. We’re just . . .” She searched for a word to describe their relationship and came up empty. They weren’t dating, but they certainly weren’t friends either. She left the sentence hanging and moved on. “And secondly, he’s not the enemy.”
Melba looked thoroughly confused. “So he’s not stealing your family’s ranch?”
