“You’re Flynn O’Riley, right?” The woman set the plate of onion rings in the middle of the table, passed the drinks around, and then pointed to the name tag on her shirt. “Remember me? I’m Tilly Waters. I thought I recognized you, but I didn’t want to interrupt when you were talking to the lawyer. He comes in here pretty often for a slice of pie. Haven’t seen you since we were in junior high school, and you used to come to church with your grandmother. Where have you been keeping yourself?”

Nessa bit back a giggle. The women couldn’t keep their eyes and, probably, most of the time, their hands off her cousin, even when he had onions on his breath. She’d always heard that women liked tall, dark, and handsome men, but evidently they didn’t mind if he was on the short side if he had the dark-and-handsome bit down pat.

“I’ve moved around a lot,” Flynn answered. “Houston, Galveston, El Paso.”

“Well, I’m divorced and have two kids, but I’m always up for a good time,” Tilly said with a broad wink. “You can call me here from noon until closing, six days a week, or . . .”—she lowered her voice—“I’ll put my cell phone number on the back of your ticket.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Flynn picked up an onion ring.

“Your orders will be out in about five minutes.” Tilly rushed off to wait on another customer.

“You going to call her?” April whispered.

“Hell, no!” Flynn snapped.

“Have you gotten religion like Uncle Isaac?” April picked up an onion ring and bit into it.

“Hell, no, again,” Flynn said.

“Then what’s the matter with you? Did you fall into bed with one too many women, and now you’ve got something wrong?” April whispered. “Are you sick? Good Lord, Flynn, do you have a sex-related disease? You do still chase every skirt that passes by you, don’t you, or have you reformed?”

“I’m not sick, but I need to get away from women for a while,” Flynn growled. “And I’m not talking about why. I’m here for a few weeks, and then I’ll probably be on my way. I’m not interested in dating while I’m here.”

“Are you dying?” Nessa asked.

“I told you, I’m not sick,” Flynn said.

April leaned forward and eyed him closely. “But are you telling us the truth? You and Uncle Matthew have never been able to resist a pretty woman, so something is definitely wrong.”