The station smelled like bad coffee and good pastries when I entered the next morning.

“Your boyfriend is my favorite person right now,” Bubba announced, cheerfully wiping crumbs off his uniform shirt and tie.

“Boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend.” I was still in a mood from the Bowie-Dad situation. Also, the Bowie kissing the crap out of me situation.

“Your beau then,” Fanny Sue said, handing me a paper plate with an assortment of delicate pastries on it. “He’s the best thing to happen to us all year.”

Confused, I took the plate. “What the hell are y’all talking about?” I demanded.

“Bowie brought us goodies. And he left this for you,” Bex announced, handing over an envelope and giving me an expectant smirk.

“Your eyebrow gets any higher and that ring is gonna get stuck in your hair,” I warned her with a grumble.

I took the envelope and the pastries over to my desk making a show of being here to work. Booting up my computer, I pointedly ignored the card.

“I don’t think she’s gonna open it,” Bubba hissed.

“She’ll open it,” Bex predicted, unconcerned with the fact that I could hear them.

The station’s front door opened, and my father strolled in. He shed his winter coat and his hat on the rack next to the bookcase that held all of our public safety brochures.

“Mornin’.” He said it to everyone but looked directly at me. I was far too engrossed in staring at my login screen to pay him any mind.

Everyone else called out their greetings. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Dad’s shoulders slump and I staved off the guilt. He’d earned my wrath. He deserved to know that I was unhappy with him.

“What’s all this?” Connelly asked appearing at Bubba’s desk, eyeing up the pastries.

Oh, hell. The last thing I needed was Mr. Where’s Your Loyalty knowing a Bodine was trying to get into my pants.

“Cassidy’s bein’ courted,” Fanny Sue explained. “Isn’t it romantic?” I shot her a death glare telegraphing the fact that she should shut her trap immediately.

Connelly took another look at the spread and rolled his eyes. He muttered something that sounded an awful lot like “hillbillies” before heading on into the conference room.

Bex snickered when the door slammed behind him. “Maybe if he were a better investigator he could solve this case and get out of this hillbilly town,” she said before heading back into the property room to answer the ringing phone.

Relief coursed through me, and I flopped back in my chair. “Jesus, Fanny Sue. He can’t know about Bowie making an ass of himself. He already thinks I’m too involved with the family,” I told her.

Fanny Sue snorted indignantly. “What the hell are you supposed to do? Stay away from everyone in town who’s ever committed a crime or been related to someone suspected of committing a crime?”

The idiocy of it didn’t make my job more secure. I was determined to ignore the card that was burning a hot hole in my consciousness. I made it a whole six more minutes before I quietly ripped open the envelope.

It was a card with a glittery red heart on it.

Say yes? Yes to what? Forgiving him? Dating him? Getting naked with him? Marrying him? Or all of it?

The station door opened and one of the baristas from Yee Haw Yarn and Coffee strolled in, yanking earbuds out of her ears.

“Got a delivery for y’all,” she announced, hefting a tray of to-go coffees.

“Woo wee!” Fanny Sue was a sucker for Yee Haw’s coffee. It beat the station sludge hands down.

“It’s from Bowie Bodine,” the barista announced shimmying her shoulders. “He wanted to make sure his girl Cassidy got the good stuff today.” She cracked her gum and wiggled her eyebrows.

I whipped my head around to make sure the conference room door was still shut tight.

“Keep the Bowie part zipped around Mr. Sunshine,” Fanny Sue advised, jerking a thumb toward the conference room. “It’s on the down low.”

“More like low down,” I muttered.

“What was that you were saying about not having a boyfriend?” Bex asked wickedly, reaching for a cup of coffee.

“Shut. Up. We’re not dating. In fact, he’s the last man on the planet I’d date.”

“You’ve got red glitter all over your face,” Fanny Sue pointed out.

“I told you she’d open the card,” Bex said.

“I hate you all,” I said. I still took one of the cups of coffee. But only because it would be a sin to dump Yee Haw coffee down the drain. And I had those pastries on my desk. Ill-gotten pastries, of course. I should throw them in the trash. Or better yet, save them until tonight and then go next door and smash them in Bowie’s face.

But he’d just try and kiss me again, and my body would do that thing where it wouldn’t stop him because it was too busy trying to get naked.

Damn it. I needed back-up.

“Thanks for meeting me, Juney,” I said, sliding into the booth across from her at Moonshine.

“Why do they keep changing the specials?” June asked, staring at her menu. “I like having the open-faced turkey on Tuesdays. Turkey Tuesdays. Now, it’s a meatball sub.”

“You like meatball subs,” I pointed out.

“On Saturday nights. Not on Turkey Tuesdays.”

“Why would it taste any different on a Tuesday?” I asked, not necessarily wanting the June version.

“I have my dietary needs carefully mapped out throughout the week to optimize my nutritional intake. I’m getting my period Sunday so I need red meat on Saturday to increase my iron levels.”

I was already sorry I had asked. “Get the turkey then.”

“It’s not on special,” June argued.

“Juney, you make more money than half the people in this town combined. Spend the extra two bucks and quit complaining.” June was an actuary, and though none of us knew exactly what that meant, I knew that she worked with numbers and made a lot of money. My sister had always had a brain for numbers. Her investment portfolio made her the Bootleg Springs version of Richard Branson. She had a finger in just about everything.

“I’m not complaining. I’m explaining. You asked. I answered.”

I was beginning to think I’d made a big mistake coming to June for advice on my love life.

“Hey, y’all.” Leah Mae looking fashionable in an oversized pumpkin-colored sweater and leggings chirped. “Mind if I join you?”

“Sure,” I said, sliding in so she could take a seat.

June folded her menu neatly and slid it to the edge of the booth. “I spoke to the landlord yesterday. She came down another hundred dollars on the rent,” she told Leah Mae.

“That’s great! When do we sign?” Leah Mae asked.

“I’m holding out for another hundred. Cheaper rent gives you more breathing room on your profit and loss,” June said.

June was partnering with Leah Mae on her clothing boutique. Leah Mae was bringing the creativity and the products. June was bringing the cash and the negotiating skills.

Leah Mae blew out a nervous breath. “Do you think she’ll drop it again? I think I can swing the rent as is.”

“We’ll hold out,” June said firmly.

“No one knows business in this town better than June,” I promised Leah Mae. “You’ll get your cheaper rent and be open before you know it.”

She chewed on her lip. “Okay. Okay. Ooh. Meatball sub!”

“Ugh,” June grumbled.

“Don’t you like meatball subs?” Leah Mae asked.

“Don’t get her started,” I begged. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“How about the fact that you’re dating Bowie Bodine?” Leah Mae suggested, brightening.

“Let’s go back to the meatball sub,” I suggested.

“You and Bowie?” June asked.

“We’re not dating. We had a moment and now I’m furious with him and never forgiving him,” I explained lamely.

“I’d like to hear about this moment,” Leah Mae prodded.

“I’d like to hear solutions on how to get rid of a man that I don’t want to date.”

“I’d like to know why there aren’t any turkey sandwiches on special today,” June muttered.

“You look stressed,” Leah Mae said to me.

“I feel like I’m five seconds away from losing my damn mind,” I confessed.

“You know what you need?” Leah Mae asked.

“A turkey sandwich?” June suggested.

I picked up my menu and smacked June on the head with it.

“Girls Night Out,” Leah Mae said.