Page 8 of Protect and Serve

Lisa, of course, repeated the question as they stepped into the warm, redolent room. Mmm. Cookies.

“Him again.”

“Hmm?” Lisa glanced up from her batter. “Who?”

“The heavy breather.”

“Ooh,” Porsche cooed, snatching one of the snickerdoodles cooling on the rack. “You have a heavy breather? Lucky you.”

“Yeah. I feel so blessed.” Claire grabbed a cookie too. She loved Lisa and the way she was so good for Cade and all, but the real reason Claire was delighted her friend was joining the family was on the platter before her. It was awesome her brothers weren’t here to gobble all this up first.

“If he’s still calling, we should report him to the phone company,” Lisa said with a frown.

Claire shrugged. “It’s probably some old dude in town who doesn’t like what we’re doing here.” There were some in Snake Gully who objected to the clientele—and employees—they brought in on a regular basis. But none of those people had ever attended one of their parties. They’d certainly never met any of the dancers. They had no idea who they were or that most of them were decent men with real jobs and respectable lives and were just trying to make ends meet. And most of their customers were well-to-do wives and grandmothers who were just looking for a little excitement.

“I’ll talk to Cade about it,” Lisa said. “I don’t mind when everyone is here, but when I’m alone, it creeps me out.”

Yeah. It was creepy.

Claire peeped over the breakfast bar onto the counter where Lisa had created a post-apocalyptic landscape in flour and sugar. There was a dusting on her forehead as well. “What are you making?” Claire asked.

Lisa’s eyes lit up. “I’m experimenting with a new pâte à choux recipe.”

Pate what?” “I don’t know what that means.”

Lisa ginned. “It means éclairs and cream puffs.”

“Oooh. Well, don’t let me distract you.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Lisa quipped, licking her finger. She was always licking her finger, but since she was the ranch’s baker, it was probably a good sign. She resumed stirring, beating the batter as though it had misbehaved. “Hey, did you hear there is a new cop in town?” she said, apropos of nothing.

Claire’s heart lurched.

“New cop?” Porsche gave her a nudge, but Claire ignored her. She turned away and pretended to alphabetize the spice rack. Although she never would. Lisa would kill her if she touched anything. Not that she knew what most of those torture implements were even called. Claire was a disaster in the kitchen, even when she made a sandwich. Lisa had banned her more than once.

“Yeah. I hear he’s a real hottie. Ethel says he looks like the guy on that reality dating show. You know. The one with the cowboy?”

“I love that show,” Porsche said with an orgasmic expression, although, to be fair, that could have been the snickerdoodle.

Claire grimaced. “Can’t watch those shows. Too many smoochy kissing noises.” And it was annoying watching people in love. Especially given the field of contenders in this miserable burg.

“What?” Porsche squawked.

“You know what I mean. All those guys are sloppy kissers. Grosses me out.”

Lisa humphed. “Well, according to Ethel, he kind of looks like that guy.”

“Ethel is ninety if she’s a day. She has no business watching shows like that.” Or ogling the new sheriff.

Porsche chuckled and cocked her head. “Never too late.”

Claire glowered at the jibe. Porsche knew how sensitive she was about her approaching birthday and her dismal prospects. “Yeah. Yeah. It kind of is too late.” For Ethel at least. “Who knows what could happen if a woman of her years looks at a hot guy. Her ovaries might explode in a puff of dust.”

“Now, Claire.” Lisa wagged the spoon at her. “That’s not nice. We’ll be old one day too.”

Like in two weeks’ time.

“I can only pray that I won’t spend my latter years drooling over hot cowboy cops and farting dust bunnies.” It annoyed her that an image of Charlie Dunham flitted through her brain, but as hot cowboy cops went, he wasn’t bad.