“She threw a quilt at me.”
“A quilt?” I asked.
“It fell out of the bag. She told me to put it on my bed. Who needs a quilt in August?”
“Not me. Not lately. Not here,” I said. I hadn’t noticed one on Archie’s bed the night before and was just about to ask.
“I’d want to wash it first, anyway.”
That made sense to me.
“Who knows where that quilt has been?”
“Hey.” Preston made an appearance, coming around from outside the front of the diner.
“Where you been?” I asked him.
“Across the street. I didn’t go far. Was keeping an eye on Archie from there.”
“I don’t need anyone to keep an eye on me.”
“I like my eyes on you,” Preston said. “I like your eyes on me.”
I felt like rolling mine, but flirting was what I wanted, and flirting was what I got.
“What ‘cha got there?” Preston asked me.