“Never going to happen. She openly admitted to being a pacifist.”
“Was that what she said? I thought for sure she said if you didn’t shut up, she was going to pass a fist… straight to your face.” Thomas shrugged and walked away.
Tired of listening to them tease about last night, he threw the soft cloth he was using to buff the stainless steel into the nearby bucket.
“You finish up. I’m going to grab breakfast.”
There was a collective groan.
“We want breakfast too,” James said.
“There’s a box of muffins in the kitchen. Courtesy of Katie.” One of the things he loved about the town was they looked out after each other. The bakery set out a box of muffins daily for the fire department and police department. Often, they’d get a knock on the door and find a local delivering a casserole or batch of cookies. No place did friendly like Aspen Cove.
Luke felt a pang of regret about the way he treated Riley. While she had been in the wrong, he didn’t have to use such strong language. He could have simply told her the dangers and asked her to rectify the problem, but he called her an idiot, which made him feel like one.
After a hearty meal at the diner, he figured he’d track her down and help her take care of the tanks. It would be the responsible thing to do.
Maisey rushed by with two plates of bacon and eggs balancing in one hand and the pot of coffee swinging from the other.
“Mornin’, Luke. I’ll be right there with coffee.”
He glanced around and found the front corner booth he loved was still open. Saturdays were busy in the diner. Tourists and locals alike came for Dalton and Ben’s waffles and pancakes. The batter was smooth as silk and slightly sweet. Pair that with real maple syrup and a dab of butter, and it was heaven served on a plate.
He looked around the room to see familiar faces. Doc sat on the other side of the diner with his girlfriend, Agatha. Luke wondered if the old couple would ever marry. In the large corner booth were Bobby and Louise Williams with their eight children.
Maisey whizzed over and filled up his mug. “Cakes or waffle?” she asked.
“Waffle with double bacon.”
“You got it.” She was gone in a flash.
The bell above the door rang, and Dalton walked inside. He split his time between the diner and his culinary school, which was closed on the weekends.
As he always did, he walked inside and looked at the place the way Luke figured a criminal cased the yard. Dalton was always on alert. He figured it must be inbred in him after spending years in prison. As soon as he saw Luke in the corner, he headed his way.
“Cakes or waffles?” He slid into the booth across from Luke.
“Went for waffles. I thought you’d be in the back making them.”
Dalton moved farther into the booth and leaned against the wall, kicking his feet up on the bench. “Nope. I’ve got a few things to take care of today.”
Luke didn’t know how to approach the subject of Dalton’s cousin, so he dove in. “I met Riley last night at the bonfire.”
Dalton smiled like he was her father. There was a glimmer of pride that showed in the twinkle of his eyes. “I’m so glad she’s here.”
Luke doctored his coffee with a heavy dose of sugar and a splash of cream. “What’s her story?”
With a wave of his hand, Dalton pointed to a half-dozen people in the diner. “Her story is everyone’s story. She’s looking for a place to belong.”
Luke dropped his spoon, and the clank caught the attention of a few diners nearby. “She’s staying?” That made things even worse, because now he’d have to see her all the time and know he was the first person in the town to make her feel unwelcome. It wasn’t one of his finer moments. He still stood behind his position about the tanks, but he could have been nicer delivering the message.
“She moved here.” He turned to look over his shoulder toward the window. “She’s staying above the bakery for now, but once her art takes off, and I know it will, she’ll be looking for something more permanent.”
“Her art?”
“She’s a metal sculptor. Samantha is giving her studio space so she can work. She had it rough in Butte. She’s a real Cinderella story, except her stepmother makes Lady Tremaine look like a saint.”
“How in the hell do you know Cinderella’s stepmother’s name?”
A pink blush colored Dalton’s cheeks. “It played a lot in the rec room. I’ve pretty much got the script memorized, all the way from Anastasia and Drizella to Gus the mouse.”
“I’m not sure if I should be impressed or concerned.” He sipped his coffee and added more sugar. “One thing is for certain, you’re going to make some little girl an awesome father.”
“You know it, but my daughter isn’t dating until she’s thirty.”
“Sounds like you’re in the planning stages.”
“Always try to stay one step ahead. What about you? You’re a decent looking guy with a job. When are you going to find someone?” It took all of a minute for Dalton to ponder his own words. “Oh wait… is that why you’re asking about my cousin?”
Luke knew where he was going with it. His head was moving from side to side before the words could come out. “No. In fact, I’d be lucky if she gave me the time of day. I kind of pissed her off.”
“Way to go, slick.” The bell above the door rang. “Speak of the devil.”
“My crew says she resembles an angel.” Luke watched Riley walk inside. She looked nervous as she moved slowly into the center of the room. Dressed in blue jeans and a plaid shirt tied at her waist, she was downright adorable.
Dalton tapped the table to get Luke’s attention. “I’ve got to go. It’s my job to get her settled in, but I’ll catch you later.” He slid out of the booth and stood looking down at Luke. “Be nice to her, because I don’t want to go back to jail if I have to kick your ass. I like you, man, but family comes first.” He turned and approached Riley. Instead of hugging her, Dalton picked her up and spun her in a big circle. She squealed with laughter.
When he put her down, she quickly looked around the diner. When her eyes lit on Luke, her smile turned into a thin-lipped scowl.
A plate plopped on the table in front of him. He turned his attention from Riley to the waffle and bacon in front of him.
“Thanks, Maisey.”
“Look again.”
He’d recognize that voice anywhere. “Sorry, Meg. Maisey took my order, and I wasn’t paying attention.”
She looked over her shoulder toward Dalton and Riley. “You were looking at something, or maybe someone?”
“No, not really. Just kind of in a daze.”
She plopped into the booth across from him. “Anything you could want is right in front of you.” She smiled wide, and he saw her red lipstick had rubbed off on her teeth.
“You’re right. All I want now is bacon and this waffle.” He looked up at her and hoped she got the message.
“That’s what you think you want, but if you’d only pay attention, you’d see there’s so much more waiting for you.”
Luke looked around the table. “Right again. Can I get extra butter and syrup?”
Meg groaned. “If you weren’t so cute, I’d give up on you.”
He wanted to tell her he wished she would but was certain there was a box of rat poison in the back that would find itself in his next meal if he wasn’t careful. On the outside, Meg came across as pleasant and nice, but he’d known lots of girls like her. Inside, she was a rabid pitbull waiting to bite.
He filled his mouth with a piece of bacon, ending any further conversation. Meg stormed off and came back moments later to slam the syrup container on the table. Luke shook his head. He was 0-for-2 when it came to women this week.
Chapter Seven
Her heart thumped loudly. Riley was certain everyone in the diner could hear it. Was her heart racing because she would start a new job today? Was it because Dalton had spun her around like a rag
doll, or was it because Luke Mosier was sitting in the corner booth, staring at her?
She shifted so her back was turned to him and focused her attention on Dalton.
“What are you doing here?”
“My mom is going to take off soon with Ben, so I’m taking over the kitchen. I thought I’d come by early and tell you to break a leg.”
She glanced back at Luke, who was now focused on his plate. “Does it have to be my leg? Can I volunteer someone else’s limb?”
Dalton laughed. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her through the swinging doors into the kitchen.
“He said he pissed you off. Hard to believe because he’s such a good guy and you have the reputation in the family as being unflappable.”
She wasn’t as calm as she often seemed. She’d learned long ago to hide her emotions for self-preservation.
“I wouldn’t put him in charge of the welcome wagon.”
“Riley,” Aunt Maisey said as she appeared from around the corner with an older man who could only be Ben, since he was wearing more orange lipstick than her aunt was. Maisey thumbed the smear from his lower lip and smiled. “This is your Uncle Ben.”
“Hi, Ben.” It was odd to call him her uncle.
Emptiness had filled her soul as she drove out of Montana toward Colorado. She’d left the only family she’d ever known and ventured toward the unfamiliar. Never had she felt so lonely as when she’d pulled into town, but then she found out she wasn’t alone. In a matter of a day, her family had grown from Aunt Maisey, Dalton and her brother Baxter to all of them, plus Samantha, Katie, Bowie, Cannon, and baby Sahara.
“I hate to do this to you, but my sweet Ben has surprised me with a romantic trip to Denver.” Her aunt winked. “I’ll be gone for a few days.”
Dalton had already moved to the grill and was flipping pancakes and turning bacon.
“You’re going away?” As silly as it sounded, that hollow feeling sank to her gut. “I just got here, and you’re already leaving me.”
Aunt Maisey gave her one of those mothers looks. Straight-faced. Narrowed eyes. The kind of look that came with advice.
“You’ll be fine. You wanted to come here to find your place in the world. You can’t do that hiding in Butte or behind my skirt.”
“You’re right. It’s that everything is so new.”
Maisey raised her hand and cupped Riley’s cheek. “Sweetheart, in order to belong to someone or someplace, you have to let them have a piece of you. Your job while I’m gone is to become familiar with the town and its people. If you don’t venture out of your comfort zone and meet the people, then you’ll be in no better shape than you were in Butte.”
Her aunt was right but putting herself out there was risky.
Aunt Maisey kissed her. Riley hoped she didn’t have the outline of orange lips on her cheek; then again, it was unlikely since Ben was wearing most of the lipstick anyway.
“It’s nice to meet you, Riley,” Ben said. He turned to Maisey. “You ready, sweetheart?”
Maisey threaded her fingers through Ben’s.
“Meg will train you this weekend. By Monday, you’ll be a pro.”
She stood in the middle of the kitchen and watched her aunt and uncle walk out. A few seconds later, the swinging doors opened, and a wad of fabric hit her in the head.
“Get your apron on. You’ve got tables waiting,” Meg said.
Dalton slid a couple of plates through the window. “Knock ‘em dead, Riley.”
Her inner brat said she had a list of people she wanted to clobber, and it was getting longer. After hitting her with a projectile apron, Meg might have jumped to the top.
Riley put her bag where she saw everyone else’s stacked on a table to the side and tied the black apron around her waist. She pulled the hair tie from her wrist and wrestled her hair into a ponytail.
I can do this.
She put on a practiced smile and entered the restaurant.
In seconds, Meg put an order pad and pen in her hand and shuffled her toward the corner booth, where Doc Parker sat with a woman she hadn’t met.
“They need coffee, and Doc always wants pie.”
When Riley stood still for a minute, Meg shifted her hip and gave her a bump forward. “He’s easy and a good person to start with.”
Riley slowly walked to the table. When she got there, she stopped. Her mouth opened to say hello, but no words came out.
“You must be Riley,” the older woman said. “Charlie said she met you last night at the bonfire. I’m Agatha.” She moved her hand across the table to lay it over Doc Parker’s. “This old fart is Paul, but everyone calls him Doc.”
There was no doubt she looked like a woman possessed, with her nodding head and smile. If she had a grass skirt and coconut bra, she’d make a fine dashboard doll.
“Cat got your tongue?” Doc asked. “You don’t have to be nervous with us. We’re easy.”
Riley swallowed the knot in her throat. “Hi, I’m Riley.”
Doc chuckled. “I think we established that already. Now is where you ask me what kind of pie I want.”
She shook the paralysis from her body. “Right, you want pie.” Riley looked toward the pie case to see what was there, but it all looked the same. There were three perfectly baked two crust pies.
“Cherry for me. Apple for Agatha. Give us one scoop of vanilla ice cream to share.”
Riley wrote down four words.
Apple
Cherry
Ice Cream
“I’ll get that.”
She turned around and walked to the pie case. She had no idea what she was doing. Meg was leaning against Luke’s table, making sure she got a good tip. Riley swore she’d undone another button for him. She had no interest in the man, but something about Meg blatantly offering her goods didn’t sit right with Riley. She didn’t want his beautiful green eyes looking at Meg's perfect personality.
“Excuse me,” Riley called from across the room. When Meg didn’t come to her rescue, she internally cussed up a storm because now she’d be forced to go to Luke’s table and prove maybe he was right and she was an idiot.
Not wanting to keep Doc waiting, she swallowed her pride and walked over to Meg.
“I need some help figuring the pie out.”
She tried to keep her eyes on Meg, but damnit if his lips didn’t call to her. There were some men who had lips that appeared full and soft like a pillow. Luke had those lips.
“Riley, good to see you again.” His words moved over her skin like velvet.
She didn’t reply but looked at Meg. “I’ll wait for you over there.” She about ran to the other side of the diner.
A minute later, Meg sashayed over. There was an exaggerated sway to her hips. When Riley glanced past her to see if Luke was mesmerized, she found him staring at her and not Meg's bountiful booty.
“What’s the flavor of the day?” Meg followed her line of sight to Luke. “He’s a beautiful man, isn’t he?”
Beautiful wasn’t the word that came to mind when she looked at Luke. “He’s perfect if you value pleasant looks over personality.” She grabbed two plates and a small bowl she found sitting nearby. “I need an apple, a cherry and a scoop of vanilla ice cream.”
Meg showed her how big to cut the slices. She explained that most diners would divide the pie into eight pieces to get more revenue, but Maisey liked to give her customers more.
Meg stuck a fork on each plate and put a spoon in the bowl. She helped Riley balance the three dishes.
Before she walked away, she gave Riley an elbow to the side and said, “When it comes to pie and men, bigger is always better.”
Meg went back to Luke’s table, and Riley struggled to get the three plates to Doc’s table without spilling anything.
“Here you go.” She set the pie and ice cream on the table and noticed their coffee was low. “You want more coffee with that?”
Doc looked up at her. “I think you’re going to m
ake it after all. Wasn’t so sure at first, because a mute never makes a good waitress.”
“Was that a yes, then?”
Doc shook his head. “One half-sass, and one half-sweet. Yep, you’ll fit right in.”
Riley found the coffee pots behind the counter and made the rounds filling up whatever cups she could. She skipped Luke’s table altogether until he raised his cup.
“Riley, I’d like a refill too if it’s not too much trouble.”
She plastered on the smile she showed the world and walked over. “No problem at all, Mr. Mosier.” She tipped the pot up and filled his mug.
“It’s Luke.”
She kept that smile on her face and the pot firmly in her hand. “Right. Do you need anything else, Mr. Mosier?”
Luke looked up at Meg then back to Riley. “Can we talk about last night?”
Meg’s bright red lips puckered into a scowl. “Last night?” Her fists went to her hips. “You were with him last night?”
By the tone of her voice, Riley knew she had the wrong idea.
“No.” She shook her head. “I was at a bonfire he also happened to be at.”
Meg stomped her foot. “Why doesn’t anyone tell me about these gatherings?”
Riley shrugged. “You didn’t miss anything. Hot fire, warm beer, cold men.” She turned around and walked away.
The rest of her shift was spent figuring out her way around the restaurant while Meg flirted with every man who came in.
While Meg didn’t wait on a single table the rest of the night, she was quick to slide the tips into her pocket. When they turned the sign to closed, Meg handed her half and told her the other half was her training fee. Riley pocketed her thirty-two dollars and considered herself lucky she’d gotten anything at all.
Chapter Eight
Luke sat at his desk, filling out the report for his latest call. Mrs. Brown’s cat had to be rescued from the roof again. The truth was, the poor cat should be rescued from Mrs. Brown. She used to call the sheriff’s station because she had a soft spot for Deputy Bancroft, but now that he was married to Poppy, she didn’t bother with him. She dialed the fire station directly and asked for Luke. Generally, the cat was sunning himself outside the left dormer, and as cats do, he ignored his owner and didn’t come in when she called. Today though, Tom truly needed rescuing on two fronts. She’d dressed the already cantankerous cat in a clown costume, complete with a polka dotted hat and fluffy, fuzz-ball embellished collar. When Luke climbed onto the roof, he could see the resignation in the cat's eyes. Had the cat had enough and decided to hang himself from the sharp edge of the dormer window, or had the collar simply caught on a nail as he slinked by? Something told Luke it was the former. Poor Tom had that kill-me-now look in his angry piss-yellow eyes.
One Hundred Ways: An Aspen Cove Romance Page 4
