I huff, frustrated because, if he’s saying this to me, then someone is saying it to him. This town loves a good scandal, but they live for a happy ending. Not that there’s going to be one because we’re nothing.

“She needed help, Jack. I wasn’t going to leave her stranded.”

“For half the day?”

“Half the—” I take a deep breath. “It wasn’t half the day, it was a few hours, and what would you have done?”

His shoulders lift and then fall. “Slept with her.”

“I didn’t do that. She was in pain, so I helped her.”

“Listen, I’m not judging you, but if I’m hearing about it, then I’d bet my ass your father will.”

“Fuck him.”

“I’d rather not.”

We both laugh. “I don’t give a shit what he says. When he’s done fucking his mistress, then he can give me all the shit he wants. Since we both know that’s not going to happen, it really isn’t my problem what he thinks. Jessica and I started dating eighteen years ago, and there’s nothing going on now.”

“Okay, I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you.”

“Jennie’s?” Jack asks.

“Like there was any doubt?”

We ride over and grab a booth. Jennie gets to our table. “I heard that was quite a fire today. Glad to see you both here.”

Jack leans back, hands on his stomach. “Your food feeds my soul.”

“Good. Here’s some coffee to make sure you boys are awake. I’ll bring your usual.”

The place is empty other than Fred and Bill, who are here every morning at four like clockwork. They both lost their wives to cancer around the same time six years ago and started meeting here for breakfast once a week—before it turned into daily.

Fred turns, lifting his coffee cup to me. “Good job today, Grayson.”

I return the gesture. “Thanks.”

“You too, Jack. I heard you were the first one in.”

Jack is always the first one in. It’s something I have tried to prevent, but he’s stubborn and refuses to let someone else risk themselves when he’s there.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good man,” Bill says with a nod. “Your father would be proud.”

“If you find him, let me know,” he says under his breath.

Jack and I both have fathers who we’d rather not discuss, but the town doesn’t care much about privacy and our wants and needs. After the death of his mother, his father became a drunk who took off, leaving Jack to basically raise himself. That meant he spent a lot of time with me, which is why he’s like a brother.

“What was that?” Bill asks.

“I said, I’m glad you let me know that.”

I laugh into my coffee cup. They turn back to their food and conversation, forgetting all about us.