by Angel Smits
“Yeah.”
“I have your change from the other day.” She fished in her apron pocket.
“Oh, no, keep it.” He waved her actions away. “You earned it.”
Silence stretched out as he racked his brain for something else to say, something intelligent or witty. Something that would make sense, that would impress her. He drew a blank.
“So, uh, can I get you something?” She finally broke the silence.
“Uh, yeah. Coffee. And uh—” He fumbled with the big laminated menu. “A sandwich. Corned beef on rye. Yeah. That sounds good.” It was the first one he saw. He’d looked at this menu dozens of times, but he couldn’t even read the danged thing right now.
“Sure.” She frowned but wrote his order down anyway. “Fries with that?”
“Yeah.”
“That’ll be right up.” She turned and started to walk away.
“Wait.” He leaned over, hoping something brilliant would come to mind. “You, uh, forgot the menu.” He mentally rolled his eyes.
“Oh, we leave them back here.” She took the menu and leaned all the way over the table and tucked it behind the metal napkin dispenser. Pausing, she turned her head toward him, meeting his gaze, the upper part of her body stretched out across the entire length of the table. “Like that,” she whispered.
Jack’s mouth went totally dry. Words, thoughts, sanity failed him. He could only stare.
Wendy straightened and brushed against his arm in the same instant. Jack snatched his hand back as if she were a flame. Which she was. And he was the flippin’ moth.
Wendy sauntered away, her hips swaying slowly, gently, teasing. He could only stare after her.
* * *
WENDY HUSTLED THROUGH the diner’s double doors to the kitchen, making sure the blasted thing didn’t smack her in the backside like it did about half the time. Tara was always telling her to slow down going through them. She had to keep reminding herself.
“Who’s your friend?” Kaitlyn leaned against the counter, texting with someone, probably her dork of a boyfriend.
“No one.”
Wendy busied herself setting up the tray for Jack’s meal. She was not in the mood to talk to anyone, least of all Kaitlyn, who was proving to be a real pain to work with.
What was wrong with her? Wendy was a good girl, but he’d looked at her so befuddled and tongue-tied, she’d had to shake him out of it. When his gaze had met hers, as she’d stretched out there on the table...
She hadn’t wanted to look away. She hadn’t wanted to move away. She’d wanted him to move closer.
Suddenly, the ketchup bottle slipped from her fingers, smacking the edge of the tray and popping open when it hit the tile floor. The pool of red goo spread at her feet, splotches landing on her neat, nearly-white shoes. “Dang it!”
Kaitlyn giggled and moved farther down the counter, focusing on her phone as if the giggle hadn’t told Wendy she’d seen. The girl wouldn’t help clean up anything—why would she help with this?
Hastily, Wendy grabbed the mop and cleaned the spill. She’d just finished scrubbing the last of the splotches from her shoes when Wade called, “Order up,” through the pass-through.
Kaitlyn hadn’t moved. Which meant there would probably be diners out in the dining room waiting for refills and services. With a sigh, Wendy hefted the tray with Jack’s order up on her shoulder and headed through the door.
Why was she disappointed that she might have to wait on other customers? Why was she even surprised that the lazy girl was leaving her with all the work? She headed to Jack’s table.
He was staring at his phone but hastily put it down when she approached. She smiled warmly, hoping to hide her mortification at her earlier behavior. “Here you go,” she said too brightly.
“Oh, great.” He pushed his phone across the table toward the napkin holder.
Wendy’s cheeks warmed with the blush at the reminder of how she’d slid across that table as easily as the phone. She settled the plate in front of him, filling his water glass and setting the carafe down where he could reach it. “Can I get you anything else?” She leaned back, crossing her arms over the empty tray.
“Uh, no. This is great.” He looked at her then, and she couldn’t look away. “You, uh, have...” Jack reached out and ran a finger down the length of her arm. “Ketchup,” he said on a soft growl.
Heat ran up her arm, sizzling into her brain. Breathe, she reminded herself as she took a step back. Breathe. “I had a little accident.” She lifted her arm and saw the trail his fingertip had left in the smear. A white napkin appeared in her peripheral vision as he handed her one.
When she stood there, frozen, he wiped off her arm for her. She couldn’t stop watching him, watching his big hand move over her skin. Her mind went blank and she stepped back another step. “Thanks,” she whispered, then turned around before she made an even bigger fool of herself, not to mention shocking all the other diners.
She glanced over her shoulder as she turned tail and ran. He was watching her and the heat in his eyes made the big kitchen seem practically arctic.
What was wrong with her?
With him?
She looked down at her ketchup-stained shoes, at the rumpled uniform, knowing her hair was limp and hanging loose. Looking up, she saw her distorted reflection in the metal door’s surface. It only made her look worse. Made her feel worse.
The door swung open, that loud whumping sound startling her, making her jump. She tried to pull herself together. She looked up and found Jack standing there.
“Did you—uh, need something?” She tried to keep her voice from wobbling.
He looked as uncomfortable as she felt. “Uh, yeah.” He swallowed and tried again. “Maybe some ketchup?” He pointedly looked at her arm and smiled.
Their eyes met and she couldn’t look away. He moved closer. Slowly. Suddenly, he was just inches away, so close she could see the tiny lines around his eyes and the thick lashes that framed the dark blue.
“I’ll bring it out.”
“That’s okay. There’s some here.” He leaned in and she knew there wasn’t a single drop on her face. “Right. Here.”
His kiss was short and sweet. Then he left her there, speechless and staring after him when he returned to the dining room.
Oh. My. She didn’t move. She couldn’t. Oh. My, she repeated to herself another half dozen times before she could think straight again. What the—
She stalked through the doors, hearing them swing back and forth a dozen times. She didn’t stop until she reached the table again. “What was that for?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
NOT WANTING TO lose the glow of the time she’d spent with him, Tara drove to the diner in silence. Morgan sat in the passenger seat, looking rested, gorgeous and entirely too big to fit in her Jeep’s close space. She parked near Morgan’s truck, as images of what lay ahead flashed in her mind. Jack had called earlier with a load for him, and Morgan planned to take it.
“I know what he’s doing,” Morgan had told her at her apartment. “I can get the load and make it back in plenty of time for the match.”
Her heart sank, wishing Jack had found him a load that took him to someplace like Alabama or something. Of course, he wouldn’t have taken it, but still, she wished.
“He doesn’t realize how late the fight is.” He grinned. “I’m not educating him.”
Her grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Don’t do this,” she whispered. The idea that he’d be hurt as bad as or worse than before suddenly felt like a weight in her chest. It scared her.
“Don’t what?” He leaned in close. “Leave?” He was teasing, still caught up in the now, not the future.
His lips were so close. She almost leaned in to kiss him, to distract herself
from her thoughts. “No.” She swallowed. “Fight.” She faced him. “There has to be another way. Please.”
Morgan pulled back as if she’d slapped him. “Don’t ask me that.” His hand curled around the door handle. “I’ve spent a year looking for her. Taking the safe route won’t get Brooke back. I’ve tried that.” He shoved open the door. “Go to work, Tara. Don’t worry about me.”
“How do I not worry?” She glared at him. “What if you’re hurt so bad you can’t take care of your daughter?” Breathing was a challenge as her anger grew. “What if—”
“Stop it, Tara. I may get banged up, but have faith in me. I’ve won plenty of these fights.”
“Winning doesn’t mean you don’t get hurt.”
He took a deep breath and she held hers, hoping he was at least considering it. The hard glare he turned on her deflated all that hope. “Go to work, Tara. I’ll be fine.”
The passenger door closed with a wham, and Tara climbed out, as well. She pulled open the back door of the diner as the big engine roared to life. Her heart sank.
Would she find him at the back door again tonight? Would they take another trip to the urgent care, or worse yet, the ER? She couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t let herself worry for an entire day.
Maybe she should just call the police herself. And tell them what? She had no clue where the fights were going to be. She didn’t know anything except rumor, really. All she’d accomplish would be to, most likely, get Morgan arrested and ruin any chances he had at finding Sylvie and Brooke.
And Tara would probably lose him.
But maybe it would be worth it if it kept him alive and in one, uninjured piece.
The diner was nearly full, and her staff hustled to and from the kitchen. She had to focus on that, had to remind herself once again that this was her life, her livelihood, her dream.
She was surprised, however, to walk into the dining room and find her sisters sitting in a booth. Little Lucas was nestled in his carrier on one of the toddler seats. Seeing their smiling faces brightened up the otherwise gloomy day.
“What are you guys doing here?”
Addie looked at Mandy. “Why wouldn’t we be here?” She winked. “This is the best restaurant in town.”
“Thanks.” Tara smirked. “But I think you’re a bit biased.”
“She’s telling the truth.” Mandy waved at the plate in front of her. “This is like visiting Mom.”
“You were able to use the recipe cards.” Addie grinned. “I’m pleased.”
“Some of them. Others don’t transfer as well, but I’m still working on them.” Tara hadn’t had much time lately to work on any new items for the menu.
Mandy took a bite of the French toast. “Keep working. Need any help with taste testing?” She laughed. They all did.
It felt good to be with her family where she understood them, and on the whole, they tried to understand her.
“There’s one recipe I’d like to add to the collection,” Tara hinted, settling on the edge of the booth next to Addie.
“That’s not open for discussion, Tara.” Addie’s smile faded and Tara regretted taking it away, but having Addie’s amazing cookies here would be good for business. It would pay homage not only to Mom but their entire family.
“I know. And I understand. Really. I just love those cookies, and I know my customers would love them as much.”
“Maybe Addie could make the cookies for you. Then you don’t have to give up your recipe.” Mandy suggested.
“Oh, Addie, would you?” Tara’s heart leaped. For the first time in days, something besides Morgan and the frustrations of him took the forefront in her mind.
“I’ll think about it.” Addie actually looked like she was considering the idea.
Tara threw her arms around her. “I’d love you forever if you did.” She pulled a line from when she’d been the baby of the house and wanted something badly. It had worked then, and she hoped it worked now.
And just like when she’d been a kid, Addie slipped an arm around her. It felt so good. She wanted so badly to confide in them, wanted to talk to her sisters like she had over the years. They’d always been there for her, and she knew they’d be there for her now, but she didn’t know what to say or even how to explain.
She didn’t understand what was happening in her world.
“What’s the matter?” Addie hugged her, running a hand over Tara’s hair much like Mom used to do.
With a deep sigh, Tara pulled slowly away. “Maybe I’m just tired. It’s a good tired. Business is good.”
“You sure that’s all?” Addie knew her too well. Tara had never successfully lied to her.
“I—” She shrugged, then nodded. The look on Addie’s face said she wasn’t buying it.
“You know we’re here for you,” Addie said.
“Yeah, I was kidding about the taste testing, but I’m not kidding about helping. I’m happy to pitch in like I did when we had the fires,” Mandy offered.
She loved her sisters. “Thanks. The staff is awesome. It’s—well—” Looking around, hoping for some type of distraction, she was surprised to see Jack Thane finishing his lunch. She’d thought he’d called Morgan from Dallas.
He saw her and came over. “Hey, Tara.” He glanced around, probably looking for Morgan.
“Hi, Jack. What are you doing here?” She stood, wanting to move away from the too-interested glances of her sisters.
“Did you talk to him?” Jack asked after introductions were complete.
Tara blushed. She’d more than talked with Morgan. Both her sisters stared at her, Addie’s eyebrows lifting in curiosity. Tara took Jack’s arm and thought about dragging him away, but her sisters would just grill her when he left. “Yeah.”
“Did you convince him to give up on the fight?”
“I tried.” She took a deep breath. “He knew what I was trying to do. He’s not going to back out.”
“Damn it.”
“Did he tell you that he talked to someone named Mitch?”
“The cop?”
“Yeah.”
“No, he didn’t say anything. What’s Mitch going to do?”
“I don’t know.” She hoped her despair didn’t show. “What can he do?”
“I’ll call him to see what I can find out.”
“Will you let me know?”
“If I find out anything, yeah.” Jack fell silent for a moment. “Thanks for at least trying, Tara. If he survives, he’ll be lucky to have you.”
“Thanks. I don’t think he’d agree with you.”
Jack laughed but didn’t argue with her. “Nice to meet you all.” He spoke to her sisters, then headed to the door.
Tara turned to find three sets of eyes staring at her. Wendy’s were the only ones with any comprehension in them.
“What?”
“I think you need to explain what’s going on.” Addie spoke in that adult-talking-to-a-kid voice she’d used growing up—the same one she probably used with her students.
“Yeah.” Mandy nodded. “Who’s Jack?”
Wendy’s mouth opened as if she intended to explain.
“Don’t say a word,” Tara told her. “This isn’t any of their business. It’s not even ours.” She didn’t want her sisters involved with this mess any more than she liked her staff being a part of it.
“Oh, now you definitely better start explaining.” Addie’s voice grew stern.
“I have work to do.” Tara stood. “And so do you.” She looked pointedly at Wendy.
“Yeah. Nice seeing you ladies again.” Wendy forced a smile and walked away, gathering up dirty dishes at a nearby table before heading to the kitchen.
The diner was filled with noise, but the silence at the table was thi
ck. Tara knew she’d not only upset Addie, but Mandy’s look of disappointment said she’d hurt her feelings, as well.
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” she began, only to be interrupted—saved—when Wendy came to their table. She had the diner’s phone in her hand.
“It’s for you,” she said before stomping away.
Great. “Someday Café. This is Tara, how can I help you?”
“Ah, babe, the list is long.” Morgan’s deep, rough voice slid over her every nerve. Belatedly she realized she was blushing—again—and her sisters were staring. “Oh, uh, hello.”
“I’m guessing you’re not alone. Who’s there with you?”
“My sisters.”
“Ouch. Still mad at me?”
“Yes.” She turned away, from her sisters’ intent stares. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.” His silence only made it worse. “Do you need something?”
“No. Just wanted to see if you’re okay.”
“No, I’m not okay.” But she couldn’t let the harsh words linger between them. “Be careful,” she said softly. Her worry didn’t take away her feelings for him. All her fears that her sisters had distracted her from came back in full force. “Please.”
He was silent a long time. “I always am. Trust me, Tara. I do.”
She didn’t let herself think about that reference too much. He’d taken precautions with her that she’d have tossed to the wind. He’d stepped in to help her without thinking twice. He’d taken care of Jack for so long, and he was driving himself into exhaustion to save his daughter from a horrible situation.
He was exactly what Jack had called him. A very good man.
And she’d fallen in love with him. Head over heels, no-holds-barred in love with him.
Wide-eyed, Tara looked over at her big sister Addie, and after Morgan hung up, she sank to the bench beside her. Addie enveloped her in a warm reassuring hug and didn’t even ask why.
* * *
A STEADY STREAM of diners kept Tara’s worry at bay and her just busy enough to fill her mind with orders and inane conversation for the rest of the shift. She put together the list for next week’s groceries and even had time to work the line, putting together some plates. She didn’t often get that opportunity anymore.
