Chapter 23
Xavier
It was the middle of the lunch rush when Marcus and I stepped into the diner, the little bell over the door announcing our arrival.
A few heads turned toward us, but most went back to their food without a second glance.
Dolly looked up from her place behind the bar, waving with a big smile on her face.
“Hi there, boys! Come sit at the bar, everywhere else is full.”
I glanced at Marcus, who gave me a small nod before we made our way through the crowded diner.
The smell of fried chicken and coffee hung thick in the air, mixing with the chatter of what seemed like half the town packed into booths and tables.
I slid onto a stool at the bar, Marcus settling in beside me close enough that our shoulders touched.
“You boys want the special?” Dolly asked, already pouring two glasses of sweet tea without waiting for an answer. “Got chicken fried steak today with mashed potatoes and gravy.”
“Sounds perfect,” Marcus said, and I nodded in agreement even though my stomach was doing nervous flips that had nothing to do with hunger.
This was the first time we’d been out in public together since everything had happened. Sure, we’d reconciled in private, spent half a day wrapped up in each other, but this felt different. More real. More permanent somehow. I didn’t feel like some outsider. I felt like… I belonged, maybe?
I was probably overthinking it.
Dolly set the tea glasses in front of us, her eyes darting between Marcus and me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Food’ll be up in about ten minutes, Sherrif” she said, then hesitated. “You boys doing alright?”
“We’re good,” Marcus replied, and his hand found mine under the counter, giving it a quick squeeze that made my heart skip.
“Really good,” I added, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face.
Dolly’s expression softened, and she gave us both a knowing look before bustling off to take care of other customers.
I took a sip of my tea, the sweetness almost overwhelming, and watched the activity around us.
A couple of ranchers were arguing good-naturedly about cattle prices in one booth.
A family with two young kids occupied another, the children coloring on their placemats while the parents looked exhausted but content.
“This okay?” Marcus asked quietly, his thumb rubbing circles on my palm where our hands were still joined beneath the counter. “Being here together?”
I turned to look at him, at those kind green eyes that had seen right through every defense I’d ever built. “More than okay,” I said honestly. “Though I have to admit, I’m a little surprised you’re not freaking out.”
He let out a soft laugh. “Oh, I’m freaking out internally. But I’m trying this new thing where I don’t let fear make all my decisions.”
“How’s that working for you?”
“Ask me in five minutes when some old fart walks through that door that knew my daddy,” he said, shaking his head.
“Excuse me,” a man beside me said, leaning against the counter. “Did Dolly say you’re the sheriff?”
I gave him a good once over. He was dressed well, though not in anything fancy.
His black slacks and cream button up were pressed, although he’d opted for brown leather suspenders instead of a belt.
And for some strange reason, he was wearing a tie.
But it was the messy blonde hair, innocent blue eyes, and that giant smile that struck me the most.
This guy fucking oozed positivity. Gross.
“Yeah,” Marcus replied, holding out a hand. “Sheriff Marcus Webb.”
“Hi there,” the stranger replied enthusiastically, shaking his hand. “I’m Michael Johnson, but you can just call me Pastor Mike.”
That explained the positive attitude.
“Oh! You’re the new pastor,” Marcus nodded. “I was wonderin’ when you were gonna be here. Pastor Tom retired almost two months ago, and people were startin’ to wonder if we’d ever get another.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Pastor Mike chuckled, running his hand through his hair nervously. “They had another guy lined up, but he backed out at the last minute. So, I took the job!” He laughed again. “God works in mysterious ways!”
I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. And goddammit if he didn’t notice.
“Hi,” he said, holding out his hand. “Pastor Mike.”
“Xavier,” I replied, shaking his hand reluctantly.
“Not the church type?”
“Nope.”
“That’s okay,” he said, his smile never wavering. “It takes all types to make this world work. Besides, I firmly believe God made everyone exactly the way they were supposed to be. It’s not my place to be preachy.”
“A preacher that doesn’t preach?” I grinned. “Isn’t that your job?”
Pastor Mike let out a genuine laugh, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
“Well, I prefer to think of my job as listening more than preaching. God gave us two ears and one mouth for a reason, right?” He leaned against the counter, completely at ease.
“But I do love a good Sunday sermon. Just try to keep them short. Nobody wants to sit through an hour-long lecture when there’s lunch waiting. ”
I found myself warming to him despite my general distaste for religious types. There was something disarming about his openness, his complete lack of judgment. Marcus must have felt it too, because I felt him relax beside me.
“Where are you from, Pastor?” Marcus asked, his sheriff instincts probably cataloging every detail about this newcomer.
“Originally? California. But I’ve been bouncing around different parishes for the last few years.
Texas is a first for me though.” He gestured around the diner with genuine enthusiasm.
“I have to say, everyone here has been incredibly welcoming. Dolly’s been feeding me non-stop since I arrived yesterday. ”
“That sounds like Dolly,” I said, catching her eye across the counter. She was watching our interaction with interest, probably pleased that we were being friendly to the new pastor.
“So, what brings you boys out today?” Pastor Mike asked, his tone conversational rather than nosy. “Just lunch, or is there some official sheriff business happening?”
Marcus’s hand tightened slightly on mine under the counter, and I felt that familiar tension creep back into his shoulders. This was it. The moment where we’d have to decide how to present ourselves. As friends? As something more?
I made the decision for both of us.
“Just lunch,” I said easily. “We’re planning to go over some last-minute wedding details afterward. I’m an event planner and my best friend is getting married tomorrow.”
“Oh, how wonderful!” Pastor Mike’s face lit up even more, if that was possible. “Are they getting married at the church?”
“Actually, no,” I replied. “It’s going to be at Turner Ranch. Outdoor ceremony, reception in a tent. Very rustic and romantic.”
“That sounds beautiful. I’d love to see it if you don’t mind an extra guest.” He paused, then added with a knowing smile, “I promise I won’t try to convert anyone. Just appreciate good love when I see it.”
Something about the way he said that last part made me glance at him more carefully. His eyes flicked briefly between Marcus and I, but that smile never wavered. Not in judgment, not in discomfort. It was just... acceptance.
“You’re welcome to come,” Marcus said, and I heard the slight surprise in his voice. “Lucas and Beau would probably appreciate having the new pastor there.”
“Beau Turner?” Pastor Mike’s eyebrows shot up. “The ranch owner? I met him briefly yesterday when I was driving around getting to know the area. Lovely man. So, it’s his wedding?”
“Yep,” I confirmed. “He’s marrying my best friend, Lucas.”
There was a beat of silence as Pastor Mike processed this information.
I braced myself for the shift in his expression, for the moment when that cheerful acceptance would crack and reveal the judgment underneath.
It’s what always happened with religious types, no matter how progressive they claimed to be.
But Pastor Mike just kept smiling. “Two grooms. That’s wonderful.
I’ll make sure to bring a nice gift.” He glanced between Marcus and me again, and this time his smile turned genuinely warm.
“You know, I think I’m going to like it here in Sagebrush.
Seems like an accepting community that knows how to take care of each other. ”
Before I could respond, Dolly appeared with two steaming plates of chicken fried steak. “Here you go, boys. And Pastor Mike, your sandwich to go should be ready in just a minute.”
“Thanks, Dolly.” He straightened up from the counter, giving us both a friendly nod. “It was nice meeting you both. Sheriff, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around town. And Xavier, I look forward to seeing your handiwork at the wedding this weekend.”
“Looking forward to it,” I said, and was surprised to find I actually meant it.
As Pastor Mike moved back to his seat at the end of the bar, I felt Marcus let out a breath he’d been holding. His hand was still wrapped around mine under the counter, warm and solid and real.
“Well,” he murmured, picking up his fork with his free hand. “That went better than expected.”
“Did you see the way he looked at us?” I asked quietly, cutting into my steak. “He knew. And he didn’t care.”
“Yeah.” Marcus’s voice held a note of wonder. “I noticed that too.”
“But he’s disgustingly cheerful,” I added, taking another sip of my tea. “Too much time near him and I’d develop diabetes.”
“I think you’ve got a better chance with that sweet tea than Pastor Mike,” Marcus grinned. “But at least he’s a nice guy. That’s what’s important.”
“You’re right,” I sighed, turning to my food. “He’s alright, I guess.”
We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the noise of the diner washing over us.
I was acutely aware of every point where our bodies touched—shoulders, knees, hands.
It felt both terrifying and exhilarating to be this close to Marcus in public, even if most people probably weren’t paying attention.
“So,” I said eventually, keeping my voice low enough that only Marcus could hear. “Wedding details?”
He smiled, that crooked grin that made my stomach flip. “I figured it was a good excuse to spend the afternoon together. Unless you actually have wedding stuff to do?”
“Everything’s done,” I admitted. “Has been for days. I’ve just been obsessively checking and rechecking to make sure nothing falls through.”
“Sounds about right for you.” His thumb traced circles on my palm again, that simple touch sending warmth spreading through my chest. “So, what do you say? Want to spend the afternoon with me?”
I looked at him. Really looked at him. At the man who’d been terrified to be himself, who’d spent his whole life hiding, who was now sitting in the middle of a crowded diner holding my hand where anyone could see.
The man who’d hurt me and then done everything possible to make it right.
The man who’d let me in, let me see all the vulnerable parts he kept locked away from everyone else.
The man I was falling in love with, even though I only had two days left in this town and I wasn’t brave enough to admit it.
“Yeah,” I said softly. “I’d like that.”
At that moment, Marcus’s phone rang in his pocket. He unlaced his fingers from mine and answered it.
“Something wrong, Mrs. Baxter?” he asked.
Then he nodded a couple of times, his brow furrowed.
“Alright. Well, make sure you put out a post on all the social media accounts and send an email as well. I’m at the diner right now, so I’ll make sure to let Dolly know and she can spread the word.
” He nodded again. “Thank you, Mrs. Baxter.”
When he pulled the phone away, I looked up at him, my food forgotten. “Something wrong?”
“Storm warning came in,” he said, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “Possible tornado tonight.”
“Jesus… you guys get those here?” I’d never seen a tornado in my life except on television.
“Not very often,” he answered. “These spring storms can be unpredictable. One minute they’re calling for a tornado, the next it’s sunshine and not a cloud in the sky.” He gave me a shrug. “Hopefully it turns out to be nothin’. But best to be prepared just in case.”
“I’ll give Lucas a call and let him know. We’ll start moving anything we can into the barns or the house to keep it safe.”
“Good idea.” Marcus grabbed my hand, pulling it to his lips for a quick kiss. “You go help him and I’ll stay here in town to help everyone else.” He paused for a moment, staring into my eyes. “Sorry to interrupt our day together.”
I smiled, squeezing his hand. “You have nothing to apologize for. Now go help your people.”