by Lisa Jordan
She wove her arm around his neck and pressed her hand against the back of his head, pulling him closer. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and drew her into his embrace.
The warmth of her touch, the whisper of her breath against his cheek and caress of her fingers along his neck unlocked feelings and emotions imprisoned by years of grief. He pressed her head against his chest, aware of his heart pounding against her cheek. “Isabella Bradley, I’m so glad you came home.”
“Me, too.” Her words muffled against the threads of his tuxedo shirt.
He tipped her chin. Her pink cheeks showed she’d been affected by their kiss. But the frown between her brows and the sadness that colored her eyes made him question if those feelings were one-sided.
He wasn’t going to apologize for the kiss. But was he asking too much from her too soon? What if God wasn’t the only one she couldn’t give her heart to? What if she couldn’t give it to him, either? Was he able to be okay with that? What other choice did he have?
“Getting back to the catering conversation—maybe you need a partner.”
“Are you applying for the job?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you’re referring to work...or something else.” Before she could reply, he brushed his lips over hers once again.
She pulled back and looked at him with questioning eyes. Her lashes fluttered closed as she pressed her forehead to his chest. “What are we doing?”
He tipped her chin up and smiled. “I was trying to kiss you.”
She cupped her hand over his. “I know, but—”
“No buts.” He caressed her cheekbone with his finger. His voice lowered to a hoarse whisper. “I want to kiss you again. May I?”
Her eyes searched his, then she nodded.
Cupping a hand gently around the side of her neck, he lowered his mouth to hers again.
Her hands settled on his shoulders as she shifted closer to him.
“Daddy, why are you kissing Izzie? Are you getting married like Uncle Jake? Is Izzie going to be our new mommy? Yay! I’m so ’cited!”
Tucker and Bella jerked apart. Heat tinged his ears as he faced his daughter dancing around and clapping her hands.
He scrubbed a hand over his face.
Oh brother. How was he going to handle this one?
* * *
After tossing and turning again last night, Isabella had risen even more exhausted and, if she dared voice it—a bit conflicted. Not only had she relived that kiss a million times, but she continued to replay the conversation with Tucker about trusting God, and then his suggestion about partnering with her catering business, which still felt out of reach, especially with the diner’s current situation.
She’d pulled her neglected Bible out of her nightstand drawer and read the passage in Jeremiah that Tucker had referenced last night. She still didn’t get how someone could learn how to thrive while going through struggles. It just didn’t make sense.
Isabella couldn’t get Tucker’s words out of her head...or the memory of his kiss out of her heart.
Oh boy.
She was setting herself up for trouble.
With many of her friends already married and having kids, she seemed behind, but was that really what she wanted?
For years, she had wanted to establish her career, preferably in her own kitchen.
But now that she’d been back home in Shelby Lake, the only one she’d even consider a future with was Tucker.
The way he kissed her suggested he was ready to let someone into his life, and after their conversation yesterday, it seemed like the next move was up to her.
The memory of his kiss burrowed deep in her heart—the softness of his lips, the scent of his cologne, the gentleness of his touch.
She sighed.
She hadn’t felt that way in such a long time.
Or maybe even ever.
But now wasn’t the time to think about that.
She had other pressing needs that demanded her attention, like figuring out how to keep the diner open.
As she’d mentioned to Tucker, the reopening had been a success, generating a greater-than-expected surge in sales, but then business had dropped off more than she’d expected.
Kathy, Dana and Noel had mentioned a few of Dad’s regulars grumbling about the increased prices, the new menu and the food not tasting the same. Maybe because it wasn’t covered in a layer of grease.
She gave the prep station a final rinse and dried her hands.
In the dining room, Noel and Dana refilled condiments and returned them to the tables. They used ketchup bottles as microphones and sang along to a new pop song playing from one of their phones.
Bells over the door jangled against the glass, and the music stopped abruptly.
Isabella peered over the pass bar, but she couldn’t see who had entered the diner. The girls talked with the whomever it was, and Isabella returned to finishing up in the kitchen.
Noel pushed open the swinging kitchen door. “Hey, Bella, there’s some guy here to see you.”
“Tucker?”
“No. I haven’t seen this guy before, but I sure wish I had. Yummy.” She waggled her eyebrows.
Isabella rolled her eyes. “I’ll be out in a second.”
She washed and dried her hands, then shut off the lights before heading to the dining room. She rounded the corner and stopped suddenly, her mouth dry as dust.
“Justin. What are you doing here?”
Justin Wilkes stood near the breakfast counter wearing fashionable skinny jeans, an untucked button-down shirt and a dark brown V-necked pullover sweater. His hundred-dollar haircut had been stylishly tousled.
A couple of months ago, if he had walked into the diner, she would’ve had to force herself not to beg for her old job back.
Tonight, though, his unexpected presence felt more like...annoyance.
“Isabella, look at you.” He took her hands and held her at a distance.
She glanced down at her dirty apron and shook her head. Of course he’d have to wait until she’d finished cleaning to walk into the place.
“What are you doing here?” She rested an elbow on the counter and made no move to offer him a seat.
He shot her a boyish grin that worked on so many other women. But she was immune to his charm. “I made a mistake, Isabella, in firing you. I’ve come to say I’m sorry. I left the Briarwood, and I’m opening my own restaurant. I want you to be my head chef.”
The words she’d dreamed of hearing for years bounced around in her head. “Wait. What? When did you leave? And why me?”
“I left about a month ago. The kitchen was falling apart without your organization. I decided I wanted to open my own place and have total control—it’s a small bistro. Nothing fancy yet, but once you come on board, you can create those dishes that people raved about at the Briarwood.”
“Justin, I was a saucier. I’m not a head chef. I don’t have the experience.”
“You will gain it at my place. Come on, Isabella. Say yes.”
“You fired me. And after you learned the truth about what happened, not once did you call and apologize. Or even offer me my job back.”
“I was a jerk. I admit it. But now you can leave this dive behind.” He waved a dismissive hand over the diner. “And work in a real kitchen.”
“Hey, this is a real kitchen. My dad’s owned this place for twenty-five years, and he can cook circles around you any day of the week.”
He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You’re always going to be a greasy spoon girl, aren’t you?” He pulled a business card out of his shirt pocket. “Here’s my card. Think about it and let me know if you’d like to take your career places. You have a week, then I’ll need an answer.”
Isabella took his card
and didn’t say anything as he turned on his heel and headed out the door.
Her own kitchen. And all she had to do was say yes. But could she handle Justin’s arrogance?
And what about her dad’s diner? And Tucker?
Suddenly having her own kitchen didn’t seem as appealing as it once had.
Chapter Twelve
When Brandon and Harrison, two of his fellow paramedics, suggested lunch after their training, Tucker enticed them to consider the diner by recommending an order of Joe’s garbage fries. Truth was, he couldn’t care less about the food—he wanted to see Bella.
Since Jake and Tori’s wedding, he hadn’t seen her as much as he’d like, especially now that Willow was caring for Olivia and Landon. He kept coming up with excuses to swing by the diner on the off chance he’d see her, but she’d been too busy in the kitchen to give him much attention.
They needed time with just the two of them to sort out where their relationship was going.
He loved being her friend, but if that was all they were destined to be, then he needed to stop kissing her.
Which was going to be a challenge.
He pulled the glass door open and stepped back, allowing his buddies to pass before joining them to search for a booth. The diner was full, but a couple left a booth that would give him great visibility into the kitchen through the pass-through window.
As he walked past the breakfast counter, he looked over the open area into the kitchen, where Bella, dressed in her chef whites, stood head down focusing on the flat top and six-burner.
He collided with someone and swung his attention back to the dining room.
Joe.
Perfect.
The tips of his ears caught fire as his buddies’ laughter echoed through the diner. “Sorry, Joe.” Heat scalded his face. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
The man scowled at him. “Pay less attention to my daughter and more attention to where you’re going and you wouldn’t be knocking into people and spilling their coffee.”
“Yes, sir.” He started to pass, then he turned back to Bella’s father. “Hey, Joe, have you given any more thought to the community garden project?”
“I told you once, I’m not the man you want.”
“Actually, you are—”
“Holland, I’ve never thrown anyone out of my place, but if you don’t stop badgering me about this, there will be a first time for everything.” Without another word, he pushed past Tucker and barreled into the kitchen.
Tucker slid into the booth across from Brandon and Harrison and stared at the menu. The growl in Joe’s voice rolled around in his head. The man’s demeanor had changed in the last few months. There had to been more than blood sugar issues at play.
Noel, their server, appeared with a coffeepot. “Morning, boys. Coffee?”
The three of them slid their white stoneware mugs toward her. After filling their cups, she set the steaming pot on the table and pulled an ordering pad out of her black apron pocket.
“Today’s lunch special is the Liberty burger with baked sweet potato fries and maple mustard, broiled flounder with lemon pepper, steamed broccoli on a bed of brown rice, and garden vegetable soup made from locally sourced produce and served with a side salad and multigrain roll.”
Brandon and Harrison looked at each other, then flipped the placemat menu over.
Harrison scowled and swiveled in his seat to look around the diner. “Are we at Joe’s? What’s with all the fancy dishes? What happened to Joe’s prize-winning chili or the deluxe cheeseburger and garbage fries?”
Noel smiled at them. “They’re still on the menu. I was just telling you today’s specials.”
“Oh good. For a minute, I thought Isabella had changed more than the decor.”
“Knock it off. A salad wouldn’t hurt any of us. Besides, your arteries will thank you.”
Harrison burst out laughing and elbowed his buddy.
Noel kept her smile in place, but she seemed to be losing patience. “Hey, guys, pick on each other later. I have other tables to tend to while I’ve got them.”
Tucker frowned. “What’s that mean?”
“The first couple of weeks, the diner was packed, but then people started complaining about the food not tasting the same. They want the greasy burgers and onion rings, not salads and baked fish.”
“Bella’s just trying to offer healthier options. Joe’s burgers are still on the menu.”
“It’s not the same. But after her meeting with some restaurant owner who came in to talk with her yesterday, we all think her days in Shelby Lake are numbered.”
“Why do you say that?”
Noel eyed the counter, then leaned in and lowered her voice. “I’m not one to gossip, and I’m only telling you because you helped her fix this place up. But that city dude offered her a head chef position in a new restaurant he was opening.”
“Is she taking it?”
“I heard her say she’d think about it. He gave her a week to get back to him.”
“Does Joe know?”
Noel shrugged. “Not sure. You wanna know more, you’ll have to talk to her or Joe. You guys know what you want or should I come back? ”
Tucker cupped his coffee mug. “I’ll have a cheeseburger and Joe’s garbage fries.”
Brandon nodded to Noel. “Make that two.”
“Make that three.”
Noel smiled. “Easy enough.”
She left and Tucker took a sip of his coffee, then grimaced and reached for the creamer. As he stirred in the milk, Noel’s words tumbled inside his head. Was Bella truly thinking about leaving? Running her own kitchen had been her dream, but why hadn’t she said anything to him about the offer? Maybe he’d misread their relationship, but he’d felt like they were moving toward something. But maybe she wanted to remain friends for this very reason.
His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket to see Willow’s face on the screen. “Hey, Willow. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if Livie and Landon could spend the night at my house tonight? Mom and Dad are in town for my birthday and want to see them.”
“Sure, of course. How long are they visiting?”
“Just for the weekend.”
“Let me know when you’d like me to drop them off.”
Willow hesitated a moment. “How about if I pick them up?”
“Craig and Shari still blame me for not being able to save Rayne.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. “Don’t worry about it, Will. You can pick them up from school. I’ve added you as an emergency contact, but I’ll still send in a note to their teachers.”
“Thanks, Tucker. I’m sorry it has to be this way. My parents are still grieving and want to blame someone for their loss, even if it’s misplaced.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
He ended the call. His appetite gone, he pulled out his wallet and threw two twenties on the table. “Hey, guys, lunch is on me. Ask Noel to box up my burger and fries. Drop it off at the station, if you would. I need to take care of something.”
He pushed through the door and headed outside, the crisp air cooling his face.
“Tucker.”
He turned to find Bella standing outside the rear kitchen door in her white chef jacket and pinstriped black pants, her hair pulled back and tucked under her chef hat. She looked completely out of place.
She did not belong in Shelby Lake with her chef whites, gourmet menu and big dreams.
“Hey, Bella. How’s it going?” He stuffed his hands in his front pockets to keep from pulling her into his arms.
“Busy. No wonder Dad’s always bushed after the diner closes every day.”
“How’s he doing? I ran into him earlier...like literally.”
She giggled, the sound shooting through hi
m. “Yeah, he mentioned you’d spilled his coffee before he stomped upstairs to change.”
Tucker shook his head. “I was a little distracted.”
“He mentioned that, too.” She gave him a soft smile.
“Willow’s parents are in town to celebrate her birthday and they want to see Livie and Landon, so Willow’s going to pick them up after school and keep them overnight. I wondered if you would like to come for dinner tonight—just the two of us. I’ll cook for you.”
“I’ve never had someone cook for me like that. I would love to come to dinner tonight. Thank you for asking.”
“Great, it’s a date.” He reached for her fingers and gave them a gentle squeeze.
Tonight, he planned to let her know how he felt and see where their relationship was headed. He didn’t want to stand in the way of her dreams, but he couldn’t stay quiet any longer about how he felt about her.
* * *
Isabella couldn’t stop smiling.
For the next hour, she finished the tickets on the wheel, focusing on flipping burgers, making salads and breaking eggs a little harder than necessary.
Once Kathy locked the door behind the last customer, Isabella poured herself the remaining cup of coffee in the pot, stirred in cream and sugar, put on some music in the kitchen, and began prepping for tomorrow.
She reached for the clipboard holding the prep list. It slipped out of her hands and fell against her cup, spilling coffee across the paper, the food service counter and onto the floor.
Isabella snatched a kitchen towel and pressed it against the clipboard, then cleaned up the spilled coffee.
The door to Dad’s office opened, and a man in a navy suit and red patterned tie and carrying a briefcase stepped out. His short dark hair had been slicked back, and he removed dark-framed glasses and deposited them in his inside suit pocket before shaking her father’s hand.
“Thanks for your time, Joe. I look forward to hearing from you.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
But even though Dad gave the man a firm handshake and had a smile in place, sadness shadowed his eyes and bracketed his mouth.
Instead of going through the kitchen and walking out the front door, the man left through the rear kitchen door.
