She hid her grin. “I take it, that’s a yes?”
He nodded.
“All right then. Let’s go.”
They went to the grocery store first. Sandy wasn’t sure what to expect. She’d never taken him out to a public place before, so she didn’t know how he would be around strangers in an unfamiliar environment. It looked as if they would both be sticking around Sumneyville for the foreseeable future though, so taking him with her on small errands might be a good way to get him acclimated.
He did pretty well. He stuck close to her, answering her questions about what he did and didn’t like with nods, shakes, and occasional blank stares, which she interpreted as not caring one way or the other. He didn’t talk to or acknowledge anyone, but that was okay. He was only starting to warm up to her, and they’d been living in the same house for weeks.
Afterward, they went to the arts and crafts store, as promised. She could sense his excitement as he followed her inside. She led him to the section with all the drawing tools and told Kevin he could pick out any pencils he wanted.
She wasn’t sure he understood at first because he just stood there, slightly shifting his weight from one foot to the other. But then he reached out, his hand hovering just above the try me sample of a charcoal pencil.
“It’s okay,” she told him. “Anything you see with this symbol”—she pointed to the smiley face sticker with the word tester stamped on it—“you can try out to see if you like it.”
After another moment, he did, picking up the charcoal and making long, sweeping strokes on the sample paper provided. At first, they looked like random lines, but after a few, they began to take shape.
Sandy was amazed. “You see all that in your head before you even start drawing, don’t you?”
He didn’t answer. She watched, fascinated, as he tried each of the items, leaving behind small masterpieces amid the scribbles and scratches of the others who’d come before. She wondered what the store workers—the ones who passed by every so often and shot them curious looks—would think when they saw his doodles. The thought made her smile.
Thankfully, she’d had the foresight to take a cooler along for her frozen and refrigerated grocery items—a must during the hot summer months—so she didn’t have to rush him. He took his time, examining each option with absolute focus and intensity.
After he tried them all, he finally made his selection. Sandy insisted he get a new sketchbook, too, and then were on their way back to the house. He grumbled a little bit about helping her unload and put away all the groceries, proving that they were indeed making some progress.
All in all, she counted their first foray out together as a success.
That afternoon, Sandy walked Kevin over to Mrs. Mitchell’s house a little earlier than usual. She wanted to stop at the township building and see about getting her old job back before her shift at Franco’s. It was a bittersweet visit—sweet because they seemed glad to have her back and bitter because it meant she’d once again had to put her dreams on hold.
She was recapping the day’s events to Jeannie later that evening as she was tying the apron around her waist, preparing for her shift.
“So, what are you going to do with Kevin when you’re working for the township?”
“Take him with me, I guess,” Sandy told her. “There’s usually a meeting room open. There’s a TV and DVD player in there. Plus, he’ll be able to draw and stuff while I’m working.”
“They’re okay with that?”
“They don’t have much choice—at least, not until I can come up with an affordable alternative. Besides, after dealing with Mrs. Delvecchio for a couple of weeks, I think they’d agree to just about anything.”
Jeannie laughed. “Yeah, I can see that. Mona is a piece of work. What did Kevin do before he came to live with you, do you know?”
“No idea. I didn’t even know he existed until my father dropped by, and he sure didn’t provide much in the way of information. I’m winging it here.”
“Maybe you should ask him.”
Sandy smiled at that. “Kevin’s not really a big talker. He only nods and shakes.”
“Then, ask him questions he can answer with nods and shakes,” Jeannie said matter-of-factly.
Just then Carmella, Franco’s wife and the occasional hostess, entered the kitchen and spotted them. “Oh good, you’re here. The Sanctuary guys just came in.”
Marietta appeared out of the back, her face flushed and her hair slightly messed. Over her shoulder, she saw Derrick, one of the dishwashers, try to sneak by, unnoticed.
“I got it,” Marietta said, applying a fresh coat of gloss.
“I don’t think so.” Carmella smirked. “They asked specifically for Sandy.”
Marietta shot Sandy an evil look. Sandy shrugged and slipped a pad and pen into her apron pocket. Grabbing two pitchers of ice water, she tried to ignore the quickening of her heart and pasted a smile on her face.
The guys were in their usual spot, taking up two tables in the back of the dining area, strategically placed where they could observe the rest of the room. It was a military thing, Sandy knew. After he’d come home, her brother Trace used to position himself where he could see the entire room too.
“Hey, guys,” she greeted, filling each of their glasses with ice water. “The usual, or do you want to see menus tonight?”
“The usual,” they chorused, making her laugh.
“Good thing I already put in a double order of wings and nachos then. I’ll put the rest of the orders in and be back with your beer in a minute.”
Chapter Thirteen
Heff
As Sandy walked away, Heff couldn’t help but stare at her ass. The sway was subtle but hypnotizing.
“She’s single, right?” Mad Dog asked, jolting his attention back to the table. “I didn’t see a ring on her finger.”
“Down, boy.” Cage laughed.
“Didn’t you ever hear that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?” Doc quipped. “With Mad Dog here, she might as well be taking the express.”
Beneath the table, Heff’s hands clenched into fists. “She serves it; she doesn’t cook it, you idiot.”
Mad Dog shrugged, unfazed. “You can kiss the messenger as well as shoot her, right?”
Church shook his head. “Sandy’s a local, and you know locals are off-limits.” He shot a meaningful glance at Heff.
Why did they always assume he was the one who needed the repeated warnings?
Not that they’d done much good, obviously, because he had ignored the warnings and wouldn’t mind doing so again, Church and his warnings be damned. She was worth it, if for no other reason than to work her out of his system. Another couple of hours was all he needed, and then he could move on.
“Besides, she’s not that kind of girl,” Doc added thoughtfully.
Ever the provocateur, Cage grinned. “Oh? Do tell. What kind is she?”
“The white-picket-fence and two-point-five-kids type.”
Heff snorted. He hadn’t gotten that impression at all. Sure, Sandy might look like the girl next door on the outside, but he knew better. In those few hours they’d spent together, he’d seen another part of her—the wild vixen lurking beneath all the small-town propriety. The perfect combination of innocent and naughty. Inexperienced but up for anything. As anxious to give as well as receive and ...
Shit.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Church turned his all-seeing gaze on him, but he refused to acknowledge it. Instead, he scanned the restaurant, pretending that he was both bored and irritated and definitely not thinking of getting Sandy naked again.
He scanned the room again, his eyes landing on the dark-haired waitress they’d had a few times when Sandy wasn’t around. She was in the corner, looking at something on her phone. She had to be someone’s relative because no business owner in their right mind would keep her on otherwise.
Unfortunately, she chose that moment to look up and
lock eyes with him. Her smile was wide as she slipped her phone into her apron pocket and made a beeline for their table. Heff averted his eyes and sipped his water, but it was too late.
“Hi, fellas,” she said. Her eyes roamed around the table before landing on him. “How are you doing tonight?”
She received a few unenthusiastic but polite responses.
“Need anything?”
“We’re good, thanks,” Church answered.
“Yeah, Sandy’s taking good care of us,” Mad Dog added.
The waitress scowled before smoothing her expression. “Well, if you need anything, let me know. I get off at ten.”
Sandy returned, expertly balancing a tray with four pitchers of beer and frosted mugs.
“Marietta, table seventeen asked for more bread and dip and twenty needs their check.”
Marietta glared at Sandy before turning on her heel and stomping off. If looks could kill, they’d be performing CPR on Sandy right now.
“You are the best, Sandy,” Mad Dog told her, reaching up to help with the pitchers.
Sandy blushed—she fucking blushed—and ducked her head. She worked her way around the table, handing out the mugs. She hesitated slightly when she got to Heff.
Was he imagining it, or were her hands shaking a little? And why did that give him a thrill?
“Sorry,” she said quickly when the frosted mug slipped from her hand and hit the table harder than usual.
“No problem,” he said.
They reached out at the same time, their fingers brushing in the process. One touch—one fucking touch—and he was raring to go.
Judging by her sharp intake of breath, she felt it too.
She pasted a smile on her face and looked at everyone but him. “I’ll have your apps out in a few.” Then, she all but scurried back into the kitchen.
When Heff looked up, they were all staring at him.
“Jesus, Heff,” Doc said, shaking his head. “Tone it down a bit, will you?”
“What the hell did I do?”
“He’s just too fucking pretty for his own good,” Cage offered.
Mad Dog pinned him with a glare. “Go after her, and I will gut you in your sleep. Do not fuck this up for us, Heff.”
Yeah, about that ...
“Enough,” Church said, but the look on his face suggested he agreed wholeheartedly with Mad Dog. “We need to get one of the cabins finished for Smoke and Sam.”
They murmured their agreement. Now that Smoke and Sam were officially together, they needed a place, preferably one with some privacy, where the rest of them wouldn’t be subjected to audible reminders of just how compatible Smoke and Sam were.
“The one by the pond is probably in the best shape,” said Mad Dog, the only one among them with a degree in architectural engineering. “It’ll need a new roof, but otherwise, it’s structurally sound.”
“We’ll need to rewire and run some new electric lines,” Cage added.
Church sat back. “How long will that take?”
“To do the work? Not long. I can do it, no problem, but with the license and inspection guys being pricks ... oh, sorry, Sandy.”
“No worries,” she said, having returned with another large tray containing wings and nachos. “Believe me, I’ve heard worse. And things will get better. I did some checking when I was at the township building today, and your permits were approved. You’ve got your town hall meeting too. You’ll probably be getting a call tomorrow.”
“That’s great!” Church said. “But I thought you weren’t working for the township anymore.”
Because Heff was watching her so closely, he didn’t miss the shadow that flitted over her expression.
“Change of plans,” she said with an unconvincing smile.
“Well, we appreciate the help.”
“I didn’t do much, just made a few phone calls. The woman in charge of the county license and permit office served in the Air Force and has a son in the Navy. Once I told her about Sanctuary, she said she’d pull your applications and make sure they got top priority.”
“Thank you.”
She nodded, though she seemed embarrassed by the praise. “I’m going to go check on your entrées. You guys need anything else while I’m back there?” She looked pointedly at Mad Dog.
“Nah, we’re good,” he told her, grinning.
“All right. I’ll be back with your meals soon.” She walked away again.
Heff didn’t even realize he’d been staring until Doc snapped his fingers in his face.
“Earth to Heff.”
“What?”
“You said you wanted to talk to us about something.”
Now that Sandy had disappeared into the kitchen, his brain kick-started back into gear. “Oh, yeah. I stopped by and talked to Brian McCain while I was out doing a perimeter check.”
“McCain ... he’s the one who bought the parcel that borders ours, right? Old horse ranch or something?”
“Yeah, he and his fiancée are turning it into a hippotherapy center.”
“Hippotherapy?” Cage asked.
“Horseback riding as a form of therapy,” Doc clarified. “It’s been proven to improve quality of life for people with disabilities, autism, ADD, PTSD, stuff like that.”
Church nodded. “And? What’s that got to do with us?”
“And ... I got to thinking ...”
“Always dangerous,” Cage said.
Heff ignored him. “Instead of putting our time and effort into rebuilding the stables at the Sanctuary, what if we create a partnership with McCain?”
“What kind of partnership?”
“In exchange for providing some manual labor and helping out—the same stuff we’d be doing anyway—we get access to their animals and services, both for ourselves and for our residents.”
Doc looked thoughtful. “That’s not a bad idea. Working with animals has been proven to do wonders, both physically and mentally.”
Church turned to Heff. “You think McCain would be interested?”
“Yeah, I think so. I don’t know his story, but the guy screams former military.”
“All right. Talk to him, see what he says.”
Further conversation was put on hold when the rest of their food arrived. It was excellent, as always, but Heff barely noticed. A different hunger had been building within him all evening, and a medium-rare porterhouse wasn’t going to cut it.
Chapter Fourteen
Sandy
Being a waitress wasn’t easy, but Sandy didn’t mind hard work, and the people she worked with made it fun. Rico and Jeannie were like a second family to her. Carmella was awesome. The other servers, busboys, kitchen staff—Sandy got along well with all of them.
Except Marietta. Marietta was both an annoying twat and a lousy waitress.
She’d been shooting Sandy death glares all evening, probably because most of the people who’d come into Franco’s tonight had asked to be seated in her section. Marietta probably would have been fine with it, too, because the less she had to do, the better. But what she liked even more than not working was flirting with hot, sexy men, and Matt’s crew was like the mother lode of hot, sexy men.
What Marietta didn’t understand was that Sandy wasn’t competing for their attention or their business. Sure, she liked the guys, and they tipped very well, but that applied to most of her customers.
Bonus: Sandy hadn’t gotten her freak on with any of her other customers, only him.
Double bonus: She didn’t want to.
Franco’s business came primarily from locals, and none of them had ever incited the kind of chronic lust one diamond-studded, tattooed bad boy did on a regular basis.
Heff was an exception. Simply being around him sent tingles ghosting over her skin, as if there were some kind of supercharged energy field around him. It was doubly hard to ignore when she felt his gaze on her as she moved throughout the dining room. She just had to keep reminding herself that it was a one-time thi
ng, and the only reason she’d done it was because she hadn’t planned on sticking around.
But you are sticking around, so you could do it again.
No! Once had been folly. Twice would be madness.
And judging by the way Marietta had cozied up to him earlier, he probably had his hands full. The thought shouldn’t have been as disheartening as it was.
Thankfully, her shift was drawing to a close. Her last table had paid their bill. Her tables were clean and reset. She hung her apron up on the peg in the kitchen and said her good nights, gratefully accepting the to-go box Jeannie held out to her. It was so much easier—and affordable with her employee discount—than making a full meal when she got home. She wouldn’t have bothered for herself, but now, she had Kevin to think about, and that boy could eat.
The air was thick and sultry as she slipped out into the midsummer night. There wasn’t even a slight breeze to cool things down, which meant the house would be hot and stuffy and she’d be cranking up the window units in the bedrooms. More electricity meant higher bills. She was fine now, but if she had to start paying day-care costs in addition to Mrs. Mitchell’s hourly sitting fees, she’d be cutting it close. Plus, there was the extra fuel to consider because the nearest special needs center was a good twenty miles away. And that was only if they accepted Kevin into their program.
“Hey.”
Sandy jumped as Heff’s dark figure stepped out of the shadows, her hand flying to her chest. “Don’t do that!”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Her heart pounded furiously beneath her palm and not just because he’d startled her. This man!
“What do you want?” She continued to her car, acutely aware of him trailing behind her, though he made no noise whatsoever.
“I wanted to thank you.”
“For what?”
“For making those calls and pushing the paperwork through.”
“Ah. No problem.”
Best Laid Plans: Sanctuary, Book Two Page 8
