Della literally had zero suggestions to give. She hadn’t been able to get Tucker to initiate a kiss, and she wasn’t likely to now, either. “You can’t just…make them?”

Winona hooted out a laugh. “If only.” She reached across and patted Della’s hand. “I wish it worked like that. I really do.”

“Well…that must be very frustrating.” God knew Della understood all about lack of sex and the frustration that caused.

“Yeah.” Winona’s curls bounced again. “But it’s okay…it’ll come to me. I just need to mull on it for a bit.”

Annie interrupted then with her ever-ready coffeepot and the slice of cherry pie Winona had ordered. “Annie, you are a goddess,” she proclaimed as the pie was slid in front of her.

The pie queen laugh-snorted as she poured hot black liquid in Winona’s empty cup. “When’s your next book out? You’re not going to make me wait for Darius and Skye too much longer, are you?”

Della blinked. Annie read erotic romance?

“Working on them right now.”

“Then why are you here, doll?” Annie demanded, fixing Winona with a cantankerous glare.

Winona grinned, unperturbed. “Sometimes a woman just needs pie.”

“Well you let me know next time you’re craving pie, you hear?” Annie shoved a hand on her hip. “I’ll get it delivered.”

Winona stifled a laugh as Annie shuffled off to her next customer. “So…what’s new with you?” she inquired.

It was on the tip of Della’s tongue to say, I made out with Tucker on Friday night, and now I can’t think about anything else, even though it was a stupid thing to do. She was absolutely positive Winona would be the perfect person to talk to about all these…feelings…she was having. Hell, she was sure Winona would relish it and probably be really, really helpful, but…it’d taken her a couple of years to warm up to talking to Selena about sex in the privacy of her Denver office. It was going to take a seismic shift to casually mention it in the middle of Annie’s diner in buttfuck eastern Colorado to someone she’d known for a handful of months.

They were friends but not close friends.

“I bought a car. I’m picking it up this afternoon.”

“Yeah? That’s great.”

Della told Winona all about the ten-year-old sedan she’d test-driven last night. It belonged to a ranch hand Arlo knew who’d just bought a truck and was keen for some fast cash. The vehicle was electric blue with a fire decal down each side. Arlo had winced at the paint job and said he’d get it resprayed, but Della had fallen in love with it on sight. It was bold and brash—the total opposite of her, of how she’d blended in for the last three years, and she liked the statement it made.