The Bff Bride. Allison Leigh

looked up from the growing mountain of potatoes he’d shredded. “Justin’s here?” He immediately set down his knife and crossed the kitchen to look through the pass-through. “Justin! How’s life treating you, man?”

      “It’s good, Bubba. You?”

      Ignoring their conversation, Tabby carried two waters and menus over to the couple, who’d chosen a booth in the corner. “I’m Tabby. Can I get you coffee or anything else besides water while you have a chance to look over the menu?”

      “Bloody Mary?” The young woman looked hopeful.

      Tabby smiled and shook her head. “Sorry. No alcohol here. Colbys will be able to accommodate you on that, though, if you have your heart set. You’ll get a good breakfast there, too. Not as good as here—” she gave a quick wink “—but good all the same.”

      “I suppose I can live without one.” The girl propped her chin on her hand. “What about you, honey?”

      “Coffee’s good for me. And one of those pecan cinnamon rolls that I keep hearing about.” The man flipped open the menu.

      “Oh, me, too.” The girl’s expression brightened. “And cream for my coffee if you’ve got it. It’s a holiday weekend. If I can’t splurge on a Bloody Mary just yet, I’ll splurge on that.”

      Tabby’s smile turned into a grin. “Coming right up.” Infinitely comfortable with this particular role, she returned to the counter area, prepared a little white jug of cold cream, plated up two warm rolls and returned with them, along with the coffeepot, to the table. While she was serving the couple, the door jingled again, and two more parties of two came in. Everyone had pool cue cases.

      She hid her delight and called out another cheerful “Good morning.”

      She’d just gotten them situated with menus and drinks when Bubba called out that an order was up, and she went back to grab Justin’s plate. Which also had a side of biscuits and gravy.

      Bubba figured he knew Justin pretty well, too, obviously.

      Tabby set his plate in front of him, and Justin eyed the fat, fluffy biscuit that was mounded over with golden-brown gravy studded with chunks of sausage. She reached below the counter and came up with a bottle of hot sauce. She was tempted to hold it out of his reach, but she set it in front of him. “Anything else I can get for you?” She lifted her eyebrows, waiting. “More coffee?”

      “No coffee. But there is something else.” He hesitated a moment, then suddenly dumped the biscuit and gravy on top of the eggs, completely hiding them, and grabbed the hot sauce.

      She hid a smile as she pivoted on her heel to grab an order that Bubba set on the pass-through. “More gravy?”

      “The key to the empty unit you’ve still got at the triplex,” he said. “I want to rent it.”