Read Online Dogwood Days by Poppy Dennison - Free Book Online Page B

instead. Big mistake that had turned out to be.
    “The sheriff doesn’t have a thing for me. I don’t think. Why are we talking about him again?”
    “You brought him up.”
    “I did not.”
    “Yes, you did. Something about his eyes.”
    “Hmm. I guess I did. He does have nice eyes. I don’t know. It’s weird. Have I told you about Beau?”
    “No, who’s that?”
    “He’s my cousin Quincy’s wife Mary Caroline’s cousin.”
    “I’d ask you to repeat that, but I don’t care.”
    “Shut up. He’s really hot. Like, makes me want to tear his clothes off and do bad, bad things to him hot.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Oh yeah. He was over here the other day, and we were this close to kissing. Man, I thought my dick was going to explode right then and there.”
    “In your pants? Wow. You’ve really not gotten laid in a long time.”
    “Oh shut up. You know what I mean.”
    “So what happened?”
    “Clover happened.”
    “Come again?”
    “I wish I could,” Jefferson whined. “I really, really wish I could.”
    “Don’t be such a drama queen. What’s clover?”
    “Not a what. A her. Clover Crofton. I’ve told you about her before.”
    “Pretty sure I’d remember you talking about someone named Clover. That’s the weirdest name I have ever heard.”
    “You clearly were raised under a rock. Clover isn’t that weird of a name.”
    “Yeah, it really is. So Clover interrupted? Do we hate her?”
    “Nah, she makes a really great blackberry cobbler. Hard to hate anyone who can do that.”
    “You are so weird.”
    Jefferson whimpered. “Don’t say that. This entire town is weird, and I’m convinced I’m going to catch it.”
    “Too late. So you going to try to hook up with this Beau guy? Kinda weird, since it sounds like he’s kinda related.”
    “Not really. And yeah. Have I mentioned his arms? The man is a landscaper, and he has these muscles….”
    “Better than mine?” Trent asked.
    “Well, no. I hate both you and your perfect body. But close, how’s that?”
    “I’ll take it. As long as I’m still the best.”
    Jefferson cracked a smile. “You’re such an ass.”
    “Yep. But I made you grin, and you know it.”
    “You did. Suppose I’d better get up and face the day. Uncle Sherman’s probably trying to cook his own breakfast by this point.”
    “Okay. I miss you. It’s too quiet in the apartment without you here.”
    “Miss you too. You should come visit. Bring me some more clothes.”
    “I might. Maybe in a couple weeks. I should have a weekend off soon.”
    They ended the call, and Jefferson pushed the covers off his body. He pouted as he pulled on a T-shirt and went downstairs to check on his uncle. As he’d expected, he found Uncle Sherman in the kitchen, trying to balance a carton of eggs in his hand as he wobbled on the crutches.
    Jefferson grabbed the eggs and scowled at his uncle.
    “What? I was hungry.”
    “Then you should have called me.”
    Uncle Sherman huffed.
    “Don’t make that noise at me. You know what Dr. Alley said.”
    “I can’t even cook my own breakfast?”
    “No. But I can get you some Pop-Tarts from Burkey’s Market if you want.”
    From the look on his uncle’s face, Jefferson took that as a no.
    “Not a Pop-Tart fan, I take it?”
    “Jefferson Lee, those things taste like cardboard.”
    “No, they don’t. You don’t know what you’re missing. I really like the cherry ones, although the brown sugar cinnamon are a close second.”
    Uncle Sherman rolled his eyes and hobbled toward the dining room. “Do you even know how to cook eggs with eating habits like those?”
    “Yeah. I can manage some scrambled eggs. You want toast too? I’m clearly really good at working the toaster. I can get those Pop-Tarts the perfect color and temperature, and you wouldn’t believe how difficult of a combination that is to achieve.”
    “What I believe is that you really like the sound of your own voice this morning.”
    “Oh, someone woke up on the wrong