Courage

by Kristen Proby

  Ed’s Diner is my favorite. He knows this.

  And it totally works.

  “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it. Shall we walk over?”

  “Good idea.”

  The diner isn’t too far away from the title office we just left, so we set off on foot, soaking in the sunshine.

  “I feel guilty for selling the salon,” I say and watch as a kid on a bicycle zooms past us.

  “You said you didn’t want to continue running it,” he points out.

  Poor Sam. I’ve been so up and down over the past month, I’m surprised he hasn’t shaken me silly. Instead, he’s been kind and patient.

  And hot, but I’m so exhausted, even my libido has gone on vacation.

  “I don’t want to run it,” I agree. “And I’m certainly not in the right headspace to hire someone else to do it. I know that selling was the right call, and Reagan will do a wonderful job. Also, Monica used her inheritance when your parents passed away to start the business. This way, that money will go into a trust for the kids. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “Then why do you feel guilty?”

  “I live my life in a permanent state of guilt.” Sam reaches over to take my hand and gives it a squeeze. “And I know that Monica would roll her eyes and tell me to get over it. To stop it. But I can’t.”

  “It hasn’t been long,” he reminds me gently and pulls me to a stop so I don’t walk out in front of traffic. “Red light.”

  “Oops, thanks. I’m going to just enjoy a greasy cheeseburger and your company.”

  “Good plan. I’ll do the same.”

  We hurry across the street and into Ed’s, which is surprisingly quiet for near lunchtime. There’s almost always a wait to be seated because it’s so popular—among the locals and tourists alike.

  But today, luck is on our side and the hostess immediately shows us to a booth against the windows.

  Ed’s has been in business for longer than either of us has been alive. Ed himself still runs the kitchen, and little about the place has changed in decades. It’s an old-fashioned diner, just like in the movies, with red vinyl seats, a long soda fountain bar, and a jukebox in the corner that plays everything from Elvis to Bon Jovi.

  Ed claims he won’t put any music in that thing that was made after 1990.

  This diner has been an integral part of my life. We came here for birthday dinners when I was a kid, and after football games in high school. I sat at a nearby table and mooned over Sam as he joked around with his friends across the room.

  And this was where Monica told me and Aspen that she was pregnant with the twins.

  I take a deep breath and set the menu aside. I don’t have to look at it to know what I want.

  “Hey, you two,” Flo, another staple at Ed’s, says as she approaches our table to take our order. “What can I getcha?”

  “I’ll have a cheeseburger, no tomato, with fries and mayo on the side. A Coke to drink, please.” I smile at Flo as she writes down my order and then turns to Sam.

  “I think I’m in the mood for the BLT, onion rings, and a Coke, as well. Thanks, Flo.”

  “You got it. Shouldn’t take long.” She winks and walks away.

  “Okay, I admit it. Now that we’re here, I’m hungry.”

  Sam grins. “You can never resist Ed’s.”

  “It’s true. It’s a drug, and I’m completely addicted. How are things at work? I haven’t even asked you what’s happening with the position in Spokane. I’m sorry. I’m a shitty friend.”

  “Nah, we’ve had a bit on our minds.” He shakes his head and rubs his lips together. “The guys in Spokane said they’d hold the position for me for six months. And, of course, the job here didn’t want to lose me in the first place, so everything’s fine.”

  “But you sold your house and everything.”

  “I’m renting the apartment.” He shrugs. “Honestly, I’m okay. Pissed most of the time, but fine.”

  “You hide the anger well.”

  “The punching bag at the gym would argue with that.”

  I glance around the room and notice that a couple of people are looking our way.

  “You know what the worst part of living in a small town is?” I ask him after our drinks are delivered.

  “The gossip.” He sips his Coke and also glances around. “We should be used to it by now.”

  “It’s never really been aimed at me before,” I admit and squirm in my seat.

  “I think people mean well,” he says. “They feel bad.”

  “And they think I don’t have ears. Every time I go to the grocery, bank, or…anywhere, they talk as if I’m not even there. ‘Oh, isn’t it sad? Poor Sam and Tash. Stuck with those babies.’ I’m not stuck with anything.”

  “People say that?”

  “Oh, yeah. And other things. Why can’t they just talk behind my back when I’m not around like normal people? I don’t honestly care about that, I just don’t want to hear it.”

  “I’m tired of the constant condolences,” Sam says. “If I hear ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ one more time, I might strangle someone.”

  “Amen to that.”

  Our food is delivered, and my mouth starts to water.

  “Nothing like a burger from Ed’s.” I go through the ritual of taking the lettuce off and rearranging the pickles, squirting ketchup into my mayo before giving it a stir with a fry. When I look up, I see Sam watching me with a grin. “What?”

  “If you don’t want the lettuce, why don’t you ask them to hold it with the tomato?”

  “Because this is how I do it.” I munch on a fry. “It’s my routine. My Ed’s routine.”

  “Okay.” He takes an onion ring and reaches over to dunk it in my sauce, but I slap his hand. “Hey. Don’t be stingy.”

  “Get your own.” But I laugh and scoot the little dish closer to him. “Okay, I’ll share.”

  “That looks beautiful on you.”

  I blink at him. “What?”

  “The laugh. I think it’s the first time I’ve seen it since…the day.”

  I shrug a shoulder. “I haven’t felt much like laughing.”

  And when I do, the guilt settles in again.

  Monica doesn’t get to laugh anymore, why should I?

  Because I’m alive.

  “Okay, I won’t mention it again because you stopped laughing and now you look sad again.”

  “I’m okay.” I take a big bite of burger. “This helps.”

  I have to wipe ketchup off my chin.

  “You’re so classy,” he says with a laugh.

  “I know, right?”

  “Hey, you guys.” We look up to find Mrs. Blakely standing at our table. She owns Little Deli on main street and was close to Sam’s parents when they were alive. “I don’t want to interrupt your lunch, I just wanted to stop by and see how you’re holding up.”

  Here we go.

  “We’re doing fine, thank you for asking,” Sam says in his polite voice. The one his parents taught him to use whenever speaking to an elder.

  “Well, I’m sure you’re doing as well as you can, considering,” Mrs. Blakely says and gives his shoulder a soft pat. Then she turns her gaze to me, and I feel like squirming again. “How about you, dear? I’m sure the twins are giving you a run for your money.”

  “They’re great.” I swallow the bite of burger that now tastes like cardboard.

  “I’ve heard they’re having some trouble at the preschool,” she says, and I sigh.

  For fuck’s sake, all I wanted to do was have lunch with Sam.

  “You know what, I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.” I wipe my mouth and drop the napkin on the table. Sam sits back in his seat, anger warring with worry as he watches me. “Mrs. Blakely, you already paid your respects at the funeral. There’s no need to interrupt us during lunch and make us sad. Make us feel badly all over again. It’s rude. And it’s not okay.”

  I push out of the booth and head for the door.

  “Oh,
my,” I hear her say, but I don’t give a shit.

  This is why I rarely leave the house.

  Because every damn time I do, I’m reminded that my best friend is gone, and she’s never coming back. She won’t get to see her gorgeous children grow up. She was robbed of everything.

  All because a fucking landlord didn’t install a CO2 detector in a rental house.

  “Tash.”

  I hear Sam rush up behind me. He doesn’t take my arm, he simply wraps his arms around me and hugs me close from behind.

  “I’m just so angry,” I whisper.

  “I know. Me, too. They’re wrapping up our food to go. Let’s go home and eat in peace there.”

  I nod as he turns me around to face him.

  “I was rude to her.”

  “She’ll survive.” He kisses my forehead, and tiny sparks of awareness appear in my belly, making me swallow hard. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 2

  ~Sam~

  Bam!

  I slam my fist into the punching bag and imagine that it’s the fucking landlord’s face. The asshole who killed my sister.

  I hit, jab, and punch until the muscles in my arms and across my shoulders sing from the impacts. When I take a break and turn to sip some water, I see Noah King sitting on the bench behind me, tying his shoes and watching me silently.

  Noah’s a friend. But I wasn’t expecting company.

  Then again, I don’t own this gym.

  “Hey, man.” I wipe the sweat off my brow with a towel. “You need the bag?”

  “Nah, I’m lifting today,” he says as he stands, but he doesn’t walk toward the weights. “How’s it going, man?”

  I shrug a shoulder and adjust my sparring gloves. “Same ol’.”

  He raises a brow. “Bullshit.”

  “I’m worried about Tash,” I admit with a sigh. “She’s all over the place with her moods, and I know she’s overwhelmed with having the kids full time. I take them when I’m not on call, but you know how it is around here. I’m almost always on call. She puts on a brave face for the twins, but when they’re not around, she just crumbles. She’s full of guilt and hasn’t even had time to grieve. Not really, you know?”

  He nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s rough. Kids are hard. Fallon’s pregnant with our second, and I’m scared to death.”

  “You make beautiful babies,” I remind him. “And you have plenty of space out on your property to have a dozen.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t let Fallon hear you say that. She swears we’re done at two. So, you told me how Tash is doing. Now, how are you?”

  I stop and blink at him. “I just—”

  “Bullshit.” His face is expressionless as he stares back at me. I sigh.

  “I’m fucked up in the head. Overwhelmed. Guilty. Pissed as all hell.” I punch the bag once more. “I want someone to pay, and I know they never will. Because it’s considered a goddamn accident.”

  “I’m quite sure old man Betters didn’t mean—”

  “It was fucking irresponsible,” I interrupt. “And it cost me two people I love.”

  “I know.” The words are quiet as Noah nods. “You’re right.”

  I swallow and shove the bitterness down. “I can’t, Noah. I can’t deal with all of this bullshit right now. I have too much on my plate. I have kids now, and a demanding career, and another job that I don’t even know for sure if I can take. I don’t have the luxury of swimming in my feelings right now.”

  “So you hit the bag instead.”

  “Yeah.” I shrug again. “It’s cheap therapy. Seems to do the trick.”

  “Then I say punch away.” He stands and pats me on the shoulder. “I’m always around, you know. For anything. Even to take the kids for a little while. Fallon and I would love to have them. We can take them to the sanctuary and show them the birds.”

  Noah owns and runs the Spread Your Wings wild bird sanctuary just outside of town. It’s a cool place. The kids would love it.

  “I may take you up on that sometime.”

  “Do. We’ll take the kids, and you can do something nice for Natasha. I know you’re not a couple, but I’m sure she could use some time out of the house without the twins in tow.”

  My gut clenches at the you’re not a couple. Why? Of course, we’re not a couple.

  But I smile and nod at my friend. “Thank you. Really. I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Noah moves away to get his workout started, and I take off my gloves, done for the day.

  I punched the bag so hard; it’s a wonder it’s still hanging.

  Maybe I should take Noah up on his offer to watch the kids and do something nice for Tash. God knows she could use it, and so could I.

  An idea starts to form as I grab my duffel, bypass the locker room and head straight for my truck. I’ll shower at the station.

  But before I can even start the vehicle, I get a call.

  From Tash.

  “Hey,” I say into the phone but have to pull it away from my head because of the deafening screams blaring in my ears. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  “Can you swing by real quick?”

  “On my way.”

  I hang up and start the truck, my mind already running through all of the horrible things that could be happening at Tash’s house.

  Is someone cut? Bleeding out?

  Did they fall and break a leg, their bone sticking out through the tender flesh?

  I’ve seen too much on my job. It could literally be anything.

  I come to a screeching halt in front of Tash’s house and sprint up to the front door, bursting inside to find both twins crying in the living room.

  “What’s wrong? What’s going on? Where’s Auntie Tash?”

  “In here,” she calls from the bathroom. I run down the hall and skid to a stop, taking in the scene. “I hope you don’t have a queasy stomach.”

  “You’re bleeding.” I see a laceration across the palm of her hand. My EMT brain immediately takes over, and I grab a towel to clean away the blood so I can see what I’m dealing with here. “How?”

  “I was cutting fruit for breakfast, and Kevin bumped into my arm. And, well… You see what happened. They’re upset, and I can’t stop this bleeding.”

  “Because you need stitches.” I wrap her palm with the towel. “Keep pressure on it. I’m taking you to the ER.”

  “I have to get the kids to preschool.”

  “They’re in no shape to go to school this morning, Tash. They’re upset and worried about you. I’m calling Aspen to come sit with them.”

  “She’s done too much,” Tash says with a sigh. “I can’t keep asking her to come running over to help. It’s been two months, Sam. There comes a time when I have to be able to take care of my life. Without calling in the troops every time someone cries, or I cut my hand.”

  “That’s what they’re there for,” I remind her gently and brush my fingers down her cheek. Her skin is so damn soft. “Aspen would be pissed if she heard you say that, by the way.”

  “Yeah, well. Okay. We’ll call her. But she’s probably at Drips today. She has a business to run.”

  “She has a manager for that,” I remind her. “And she’s married to a damn prince. I think she can afford to take a morning off.”

  I’m already calling Aspen’s number.

  “Hey, Sam. How’s it going?”

  “Oh, you know. Never a dull moment around here.” I quickly run down what’s happening. “Do you have time to take the kids for a couple of hours while we have her hand seen to?”

  “Of course. Actually, I’m on my way to Drips. I’ll swing by and pick them up. They can come with me. I’ll put them to work.”

  “Sounds damn good to me.”

  “See you in five.”

  “I heard,” Tash says when I hang up. “Thanks.”

  She holds her towel-wrapped hand against her chest as we walk down the hall and find the kids still sitting in the living room, sniffling. />
  “Hey, no need to cry,” Tash says and kisses their heads. “I’m going to be just fine. It’s just a cut on my hand.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” Kevin says and clings to her. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Of course, you didn’t mean to,” Tash assures him. “Uncle Sam is here, and he’s an expert in these things. He thinks I should go have a doctor have a look at it.”

  “How about instead of going to school today, you go spend some time with Aspen?” I ask the kids and see their eyes light up. “She’s going to take you to the coffee shop.”

  “Okay,” Kelsey says. She’s always been the more laid-back of the two.

  “I want to go with Auntie,” Kevin says, still clinging to her hip.

  “We won’t be long,” Tash assures and squats down next to him. “And when we get home, you and I can curl up and watch a movie, okay?”

  He nods, and I hear Aspen pull into the drive. “Okay, let’s go.”

  “Hi, guys,” Aspen says with a smile when we all come outside. “What a fun surprise.”

  “Thanks,” Tash says with an apologetic grin. “Sam says I need stitches.”

  “Ouch,” Aspen replies. “Well, don’t rush on my account. I’ve got things handled with these little monsters.”

  They pile into Aspen’s SUV, and I lead Tash to my truck.

  “This throbs like a bitch,” she says when I boost her up onto the seat and buckle her in.

  I accidentally brush her breast with my arm and feel the contact all the way to my cock.

  Jesus, when did Tash turn into a sexy, curvy woman?

  I’ve always seen her as my little sister’s friend. That’s it.

  But now that we’ve been in close quarters for the past couple of months, I’m seeing her differently.

  Maybe it’s just my long-ignored libido talking.

  But I don’t think so.

  “Sam?” Her breath is on my neck. I didn’t realize that I’d frozen in place. “You okay?”

  “Sorry,” I mutter and click the belt into place. “Spacey today, I guess.”

  I shut the door and hurry around to the driver’s side.

  “Let’s get you all fixed up.”

  “The end.” I close the book and kiss Kelsey on the forehead. “That’s it for tonight. You both need to get some sleep.”