If she got the position at the resort, she wouldn’t need to work doubles every day. She could work a single job and have some time for herself. If she lived out at the resort, she would save money.
Of course if she lived out at the resort, she would get to see Ty work his magic on all the gorgeous women who came through for a vacation and spent a night with Ty as a souvenir.
She realized the women had all gone quiet. And they were all staring at her.
“Lucy, honey, I was wondering what you want for breakfast.” Stella stood at the head of the table, her notepad in her hands. The owner of Stella’s wore a bright yellow western shirt, jeans, and red boots.
She hadn’t even looked over the menu, though she didn’t need to. Everything on the menu cost cash, and she had very little. “Oh, I ate before I came. I’ll just have the coffee.”
She could leave behind a couple of dollars for her part of the coffee and the tip. And then she would hope she had a granola bar in her purse because otherwise she would have to wait until her late shift at Trio. Zane had made one meal per shift part of her compensation package when he’d first hired her. Probably because she’d sat in his office during the interview and her stomach had growled so loud the man had noticed.
She blamed Zane Hollister for her hips. She’d been somewhat skinny before she’d started eating meals that weren’t the cheapest ramen she could find.
Of course Ty showed up at least once a week with a casserole dish in his hands. His mom made them for him, and he always shared because there was so much, and he usually ate at the resort anyway.
Her stomach growled at the thought of Ty’s mom’s cheesy enchilada casserole.
Rachel frowned her way as Stella started for the kitchen to put the order in. “Really? You’re not hungry?”
Damn her stomach. “I’m good.” She needed a distraction because of all the women at the table, Rachel was the one who would sniff a problem and then bloodhound her way to the root, and she didn’t want to talk about how sad her bank account was right now. The good news was she had something that would interest all of them far more than why she hadn’t ordered the pancakes with chocolate chips she adored. “Actually, I’m not good. I’m confused, and I need to call on the matriarchal counsel of Bliss.”
Every head at the table turned. It was a fancy way of saying I’ve got a problem and I want the wisest women in Bliss to help me.
“Honey, did you get taken?” Cassidy Meyer sat at the end of the table, her steel-colored hair in its normal bun. She was a slender woman on the higher side of sixty. She’d very likely ordered her pancakes with beets. She would have done that because beets, as everyone who had come through Bliss knew, were a preventative against all sorts of alien incursions. This was what she got for living close to what alien hunters called the Alien Highway. “It’s mating season for the reptilians, and I know that there are those romance novels about women and their gentle velociraptor lovers, but that’s nothing but alien propaganda.”
Cassidy and her de facto husband, Mel Hughes, were very invested in the alien fighter community. She was on the board to ensure that the Winter Festival remained strictly for humans.
“Some of those monster romances are quite beautiful. You have to view them as a metaphor. Some of those stories are just a way to say that all beings of goodwill can get along.” Nell Flanders was around to ensure the Winter Festival didn’t harm the earth. So when she thought about it, Earth and space were both represented here. “It doesn’t matter if your genitals are barbed. It’s what’s in your heart that’s important.”
Cassidy frowned Nell’s way. “Says the woman who has never been penetrated by a barbed penis.”
Rachel’s eyes were suddenly bright with glee. “Does a piercing count?”
Nell gasped.
This was the other reason she’d agreed to be the group’s secretary. There was always good gossip.
Rachel shrugged. “Henry whined about it a lot. Told Rye he might never ride a horse again. Girl, I just said we should all high five you for getting your man to do that.”
“How about we get back to the problem at hand?” Hope turned Lucy’s way. “What’s going on? I’m sorry we haven’t talked recently. I’ve been working on getting the ranch ready for winter, and it’s been a lot.”
Hope was a sweet woman and they were friends, but Hope had Beth. That was her bestie. They were both out at the Circle G and shared a life that orbited around ranching. Their husbands were partners.
She hoped River got home sooner than she estimated. It hit Lucy hard how much she’d missed her. Phone calls weren’t the same as sitting with her closest friend and sharing their troubles and a bottle of cheap wine. She could use River’s sound judgment on what to do about Ty.
There was nothing at all to do about Michael. He’d made himself clear. But she still didn’t understand.
“Why would a man be nice to you, like really, really nice to you and then not…” She struggled for how to put this in a ladylike fashion. “Not want to spend the time with you that a man would normally get for being so nice to you. I mean, not that anyone owes someone for being nice. That came out wrong.”
“I’m sorry.” Rachel sat back in her chair, leaning toward Callie. “I don’t speak tact. What is she asking?”
“She’s asking why Michael Novack acts like he wants to sleep with her and then doesn’t sleep with her.” Callie totally spoke tact.
“Oh.” Rachel turned her way. She was a lovely woman with reddish blonde hair, and she’d recently given birth to her second child, a boy they’d named Ethan Harper. “That’s because he’s not very smart.”
“He’s smart,” Jen argued. “He’s still processing what happened to him.”
“Yes, that kind of betrayal can wound a person.” Nell took Jen’s side. “He needs time to heal.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “He’s had two damn years. He needs to pull his big boy shorts up and get right back on the saddle. The saddle, in this case, is Lucy. He needs to ride her until he can’t see straight and he’ll feel so much better.”
“Rachel, that’s insensitive,” Nell whispered as though no one else could hear her.
“Rachel is pretty much the definition of insensitive,” Jen said with a practical air. “She’s been around Max far too long. And she’s right about how long Michael’s been in this awful routine of his.”
“I think we should give Michael as much time as he needs,” Nell returned. “I’ve worked with the man recently, and I believe he has a deeply sensitive soul. That sweet soul bears some deep wounds.”
“That sweet soul needs to stop growling at everyone or I might have to take him out.” Marie was also on Rachel’s side.
The table split, half the women supporting the Michael is Wounded theory and the other half backing a Michael Should Start Having Healing Sex agenda. Though Marie merely wanted him to stop growling, and Cassidy mentioned that the Reticulan Greys might be at work and Michael could benefit from taking the beet.
She was definitely not getting the answers she wanted. “So I should give up on him?”