Handsome and cocky as ever, Wyatt gave him a bemused smile. “But you hate pumpkin pie.”
“Yeah, I know that.” Clay scowled. “You think I don’t know I hate it?”
Wyatt gave him a look. “Then why are you eating it?”
“That new waitress brought it,” Clay explained, the reminder compelling him to take another bite. He choked, forcing himself to swallow it. “Christ.”
“You’ve officially taken one hit too many,” Wyatt said in exasperation, turning to Judy when she showed up with his cup of coffee. “Darling, dontcha have something else back there besides pumpkin pie?”
“We got praline,” Judy offered, her cheeks still flushed beneath her freckles. The redhead was always pink-cheeked when Wyatt was around. “You want it before your dinner?”
“Nah, it ain’t for me.” Wyatt gestured to Clay. “He hates pumpkin pie. I dunno why he let her serve it to him. Get him a piece of praline.”
“No, it’s all right,” Clay said quickly, not wanting the new waitress to know he’d sent it back. He’d rather choke down the whole thing. “I like it.”
“Bullshit.” Wyatt reached across the table and pulled the plate away when Clay took another stubborn bite of the pie, only to gag on it a second time. “Look at that. He can’t even swallow it to prove a point.”
“I’ll get you a different piece, Powerhouse.” Judy grabbed the plate off the table and turned away before he could complain.
“You’re an asshole,” Clay snapped at his best friend when Judy was out of earshot. “I was eating the damn pie. I ain’t bothering you. Why the fuck do you always have to run that big mouth of yours?”
“You were gonna puke on my dinner,” Wyatt said by way of explanation. “You need to tell the doc you’re losing touch.”
Clay huffed in response and looked across the diner to see Judy walk behind the counter. She handed the plate to Hal through the window. Clay was hoping to God they didn’t tell the new waitress he hated pumpkin pie so intensely he couldn’t eat it even when he attempted to swallow it down using steel will, which was something he usually had in spades.
He cringed when the pretty blonde walked behind the counter just as Hal put a fresh piece of praline pie through the window that separated the front of the diner from the kitchen. Judy said something to the new waitress, who looked at Clay and Wyatt before she turned back and grabbed the new plate instead of Judy.
“I hate you,” Clay growled at Wyatt.
“Shoot.” Wyatt laughed, stirring his coffee as he worked at adding several packs of sugar to it. “If I had a dollar for every time you said that, I wouldn’t be spending Thanksgiving breaking up the Henleys’ annual domestic disturbance. Every damn holiday, they get into it. You’d think the lot of ’em would figure out they hate each other and stop planning get-togethers. Frank had to take Derrick up to Mercy General. I think Greg broke his damn ribs.”
“There’s worse bones to break.” Clay’s eyes were on the waitress as she walked up to them. Forgetting Wyatt’s whining, he smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry.”
“You should’ve told me you hated it,” she said, putting the praline pie in front of him. “I wanted you to enjoy it, not gag on it.”
“I’ll pay for the pie,” he said, entertaining the thought of breaking Wyatt’s ribs. “I didn’t wanna put you out.”
“You’re not putting me out.” She smiled, those dimples carving their places in her rosy cheeks. “It’s not like you’re asking me to shovel your driveway and take out your garbage. A new piece of pie’s easy.”
“Still, I appreciate it,” Clay said, his cheeks hot once more. “Thank you again.”
“Sure.” She looked to Wyatt quickly, her smile faltering. “Glad you’ve got company now. Hey, Sheriff.”
“Miss Dylan,” Wyatt said in response. Coffee abandoned, a knowing blue gaze darted from Clay to the new waitress. “How’s life treating ya?”
She smoothed out her apron, fiddling with her pad and pencil rather than look at Wyatt. “Nothing exciting to report.”
Giving her one of his winning grins, Wyatt asked, “You getting settled in okay?”
“Settled in fine.”
Her easy smile was gone as she turned to leave, seeming unmoved by Wyatt’s natural charm, which was as unique as everything else about her. Most women were susceptible to Wyatt. Then she did something truly shocking: she reached out, squeezing Clay’s large bicep through his long-sleeved cotton shirt as she walked past him to go check on recently divorced Jay Walker, sitting a few booths behind them.