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When her mother’s gaze turned up to me, they brightened with excitement. “Bennett Broussard. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Rather than stick out her hand to shake, she went in for a hug. I leaned over, awkwardly hugging a woman I’d just met who happened to be over a foot shorter than me.
“Just roll with it,” Betty murmured.
“Here, y’all try this,” said Dan, walking up with two samples for Betty and me. “It may not be Hale Broussard’s gumbo, but it’s pretty damn good.”
I glanced up at their sign that readShrimp and Tasso.
“Can’t go wrong with that combination,” I added encouragingly before I took a bite.
It was delicious. But most of these cooks out here meant serious business and knew what they were about.
“That’s really good, Dan,” said Betty, inhaling her serving cup before tossing it in one of the big trashcans set out in the lane for festival-goers.
“Yeah, we’ve got a team on it this year.” He motioned behind him where cooks and helpers were shuffling around. “I’m Dan Bernard,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
We shook hands. “Bennett Broussard.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”
I frowned at Betty, who rolled her eyes. I wasn’t sure how I was so well-known among her family, but I could only hope it was because she was saying nice things about me.
“Hey, Country,” Betty called, looking over my shoulder.
When I turned, I had to look up at the guy she greeted walking into our circle. This was an unnatural experience for me. At six foot three, I rarely had to look up. But the man walking up into our circle was easily four or five inches taller. Tall and broad, not fat but fit. Looked like a linebacker for the Saints.
I couldn’t help the flare of jealousy I had that Betty seemed to know him so well. Had they dated or something?
“Hi, Betty. Karen. Nice day for a cookoff,” he rumbled in a deep voice to match his size.
“Come on and try ours,” said Dan, ushering him forward. “We’ve got plenty.”
“Thanks, Dan. I appreciate you getting me that new commission on the rockers, too. I’d wanted to tell you.”
After a quick introduction to me, the giant named Country fell into a conversation with Dan while eating a sample of shrimp and tasso gumbo.
When I quirked my brow at Betty, she scooted close and said, “Country makes homemade furniture and sells on consignment at Tractor Supply. Dan helps him out with it.”
“That’s pretty cool. He doesn’t want to open a shop of his own for something like that?”
I couldn’t imagine starting a business and selling on consignment, giving away profits to another store. I’d been raised to think single-mindedly about business.
“Oh, no,” Betty laughed. “It’s not his livelihood. He’s a sugarcane farmer. Has about a hundred acres off Broken Arrow Highway. The furniture thing is a hobby.”
I angled a suspicious look down at her. “You know a lot about this guy. Just how do you two know each other exactly?”
Her mischievous grin spread wide. She faced me and wrapped her hands around my waist. I took the offer and hauled her in close, the tension easing at her open affection.
“Someone’s jealous,” she whispered.
I thought about blowing it off and pretending nonchalance, which is what I would’ve normally done. Hell, I don’t think I’d ever been jealous of another man because of a woman. My jealousy tended to be only for those who seemed to have a better handle on their business.
I didn’t want to hide anything from Betty. Especially how I felt about her. Or how I felt about the idea of her being with another man. Hugging her tighter against me, I said low for only her to hear, “I can’t help it. I’m becoming territorial over you.”
I stroked a hand down her spine, pressing her to me. She arched her back like a cat.
I whispered low, “The thought of another guy touching you makes me insane.”
