“He dates,” Wyatt said defensively.
Jules turned, giving her brother a stern look. “Last I checked, I had several degrees on my office wall. How dumb do I look?”
“He sorta dates,” Wyatt amended, because no one could call Jules dumb.
“You and me both know he ain’t dating those girls,” Jules said sharply. “And not a one of ’em care anything ’bout him. All they’re interested in is his fine body and his collection of championship belts. They’re just using him. I don’t like those groupies, Clay.”
“No kidding,” he said against the rim of his coffee. “I think I heard mention of that one time…or a million.”
“So you ask the jumpy little waitress on a date, and if it don’t work out”—Jules held up her hands—“at least you broke the ice. You can finally start dating real women.”
“So those girls he spends time with ain’t real women?” Wyatt quirked an eyebrow over the rim of his sunglasses. “What are they, then? ’Cause they look mighty womanly to me.”
“I meant women with souls,” Jules said sweetly before she narrowed light eyes at her brother. “You’re a pig, by the way.”
Wyatt turned to her, his mirrored glasses reflecting Jules’s image back at her as he grinned. “Oink.”
Jules pulled a disgusted face, turning back to Clay. “You’re thirty-three years old. Ya can’t keep pushing every decent woman away ’cause your mama left like that.”
“So he should date the only person in Garnet with more issues than him?” Wyatt interjected as if considering it. “A man with crippling abandonment issues who makes a living with his fists, and a woman on the run from her abusive ex-husband who obviously used her as a punching bag. That’s a perfect pairing.”
“I gotta take a leak.” Clay stood up rather than listen to their bickering. He was halfway to the bathroom before something occurred to him. He turned back around, finding Jules and Wyatt still arguing. Before he could catch a word of their debate, he leaned down, looked Jules dead in the eye, and admitted, “I ain’t been with one of those groupies in over a year and a half.”
“Really?” Jules asked, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
“Yes, really,” he said with grim finality. “Now will you shut up ’bout it?”
“Yeah, I’ll shut up,” Jules said, positively beaming. “I wouldn’t say anything to her ’bout it…even if ya had been with ’em.”
“I haven’t.”
“Okay,” Jules said, holding up her hands passively. “Glad to hear it.”
Clay hoped that was enough to keep both Jules and Wyatt’s mouths shut while he was gone. He wasn’t more than a few feet away from the table before Wyatt said, “A year and a half? No wonder my ribs are ’bout broke, and this ain’t the first time, neither.”
Jules snorted. “You say it like it’s my fault.”
“You’re always harping ’bout the groupies. The man needs some sorta stress release besides kicking the shit outta me.”
Clay rolled his eyes, deciding there was nothing to be done. Let them argue. That battle was lost a long time ago. If big Fred Conner couldn’t put a stop to it before he passed on, Clay sure wasn’t going to fix it. He just wished they’d find another topic to argue about.
Chapter Three
“It’s official. You’ve got an admirer.”
Melody blushed, turning around to look and see if anyone was listening before she shrugged. “Nah. He’s just sweet.”
“Sweet on you,” Judy said teasingly as she leaned against the counter, giving Melody a knowing look. “Every single shift you work, he’s here. If you ain’t here, he ain’t here. That boy knows your schedule.”
“I think she might be right,” Hal offered, putting her order in the window. “I’d have never believed it, but something ’bout you got Powerhouse’s attention.”
“And he’s a good tipper,” Judy said sullenly. “If I’d known he had a soft spot for waitresses, I’d have bought him pie years ago.”
“I told him to stop with all that.” Melody felt her cheeks heat. “Ain’t fair. He’s not allowed to tip more than twenty percent.”
“You need the money,” Hal barked at her. “Take it if he’s offering.”
Melody ignored them, not wanting his food to get cold. She grabbed Clay’s plate and walked around the counter. At a quarter to ten, the diner was near empty. He was her last table of the evening. She loved it when he came late, because she could spend actual time with him.