High Heels and Haystacks: Billionaires in Blue Jeans, book two

by Erin Nicholas

  Because she had no idea how to handle a relationship with emotions like this.

  This was one more situation where she was way out of her comfort zone.

  “I think we both need some time to think about everything,” she said, lifting her chin and putting her CEO face on.

  Parker nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  “I’ll…” She looked around. He’d brought her here. She didn’t have a car. And he still needed to prep for tomorrow.

  “I’ve got it,” he said, as if he’d read her mind.

  “I can stay and help.”

  “No.” He said it firmly. “I’ve got it.”

  Right. He probably wanted to be alone. She knew she did. But it was also because of her that he’d been gone for the past three days. “Cori and Brynn will stay.” She knew they’d do it for her.

  “Ava.” Parker pushed a hand through his hair again and sighed. “I’ve been prepping this diner alone for thirteen years.”

  Right. And he obviously preferred it that way.

  She turned and headed for the front of the diner. But as she passed the island, she not only grabbed the aprons, she took the tray of shots with her as well.

  And she was not sharing.

  * * *

  Dude.”

  “I know.”

  “It was bad.”

  “I know.”

  Evan and Noah had been leaning against the back of the building when Parker had pulled into the diner’s back parking lot this morning at five. And they’d been sitting at his counter ever since. Parker had been expecting them. He was just grateful they hadn’t come to his house and demanded he talk to them about it all last night. He’d scrubbed and diced and shredded for almost an hour. Then he’d headed straight home to his pile of wood to chop. And as he’d destroyed the logs with the chainsaw, he’d thought of her the entire time.

  Parker threw the towel he was holding into the bin of dirty dishes and wished it was something that would make a louder, more satisfying, noise. Or break something when he threw it. Ava really had a point there. Breaking things on purpose—instead of inadvertently as he had last night—was pretty cathartic. Until he stopped and thought about how there were things in life, a lot of things, that couldn’t be put back together once they were in pieces.

  And as he picked up the tub, he realized that he was screwed if dirty plates and cups made him think of Ava. She had become a part of everything about the diner, even before there was a gaping hole in the wall, and there was no way for him to avoid thoughts of her. He was surrounded by dirty dishes almost constantly.

  “So we’re not going to talk about this today either?” Evan asked.

  Parker turned toward the kitchen with Evan and Noah’s breakfast dishes.

  They’d been quiet while he’d cooked and they’d eaten. But he’d known it was too much to hope that pancakes and sausage would keep them from lecturing him about everything. They’d just been careful to get breakfast first.

  He glanced at the hole in the wall…okay it was a doorway…between the diner and the pie shop. The girls weren’t in yet, but he could already imagine how it would look and sound and smell once they were there.

  Good. Bright. Cheery.

  Those were three of the words that came to mind. He sighed. He could pretend that the increased noise level or the traffic back and forth between the two shops would be annoying. But the truth was, the opening into the pie shop would do nothing but make the diner brighter and smell like pie.

  “No, we’re not going to talk about it,” he finally answered Evan.

  “You overreacted,” Evan told him.

  Parker swung back. “Really? I overreacted? She knocked two holes in the wall of my diner.”

  Evan and Noah just looked back at him with expressions that said, you’re a dumbass.

  “She did,” he said. “Without asking me. Without even hinting at the idea. Without even thinking for a second about how I would feel about it.”

  “Seriously?” Noah asked. “She didn’t hint at it? You didn’t hint at it?”

  “At knocking walls down?” Parker asked.

  “At combining the things that matter to you both.”

  Parker stared at his friend. In part because Noah never raised his voice. And in part because Parker suddenly couldn’t take a deep breath. Nor did he have any idea what to say to that.

  “How about in all the times she was over here and you were talking about the future of the pie shop and you were acting like you liked having her here? How about in all of the times you were over there, involved, helping, giving her the thing you complain the most about not having enough of—your time? You really think none of those were hints that you might be on board with combining your lives?”

  Parker swallowed hard. “That pie shop is not her life.”

  “You sure about that?” Noah asked.

  He wasn’t sure about anything.

  “Maybe she can’t make pie, but that pie shop has everything she cares about in it,” Noah said. “Her sisters’ happiness.” He held up a finger. “A happier idea of her dad.” He added a second finger. Then a third. “A challenge that she’s had to actually put her hands in to figure it out.” He put up a fourth finger. “And a guy who doesn’t want her money or her power, but who got involved with her life because of her.”

  Parker felt his throat tighten. Noah was a pretty insightful guy. He was more of an observer than a participant in most situations. But Parker had to assume a lot of this had also come from Brynn.

  “I never once said that I wanted to combine the two businesses into one building,” Parker said. But his protest didn’t ring true even to his own ears. No, he’d never said that. But he’d also never said that he wanted to make her chicken salad for the rest of their lives…and he did.

  “How about when you took her to your house and showed her the greenhouse and introduced her to your chickens?” Evan asked, a hint of you’re-a-dumbass even sneaking into his tone of voice.

  Parker narrowed his eyes. “What about that?”

  “You don’t take women home like that,” Evan said, lifting his orange juice glass that Parker now regretted refilling for him.

  “Like that?” Parker repeated. “What’s that mean?”

  “You take them home, fuck them, and send them on their way,” Noah said bluntly. “You don’t show them around, you don’t cook for them—hell, you make a point of taking them home late enough and waking them up early enough that there are no meals expected—and you definitely don’t take them into that greenhouse. I only got to go in there because I helped you build the damned thing.”

  “You think it means something that I took her to the greenhouse?” Parker asked, trying very hard to make it sound like that was a completely stupid assumption.

  But it wasn’t. It did mean something. It meant even more that she’d been impressed by it and had let him get her dirty—in every way—in there. After seeing her dressed up and totally at ease in her private jet and limo in New York City, it was even more obvious that Ava’s time out on the farm with him had meant something to her too.

  “I do. And even more, Ava does,” Noah said.

  Parker frowned at him. “How do you know that?”

  “She told Brynn.”

  “And Cori,” Evan added.

  Parker sighed and set the bin of dishes to the side. “Good God, being involved with sisters is a pain in the ass.”

  Evan and Noah didn’t disagree.

  The door to the diner suddenly banged open and a loud, deep voice declared, “Holy shit! That looks amazing!”

  It was Hank, leading Walter, Ben, and Roger into the diner for breakfast. They were always first in and didn’t leave until the pie shop opened.

  Parker sighed. The entryway—which was exactly what it was—to the pie shop did look nice. And for the four most regular customers of both businesses, it was probably a dream come true.

  The men settled into their usual booth and
Parker approached with coffee cups. The pie shop had far better coffee and everyone knew it, but these guys insisted on drinking his crappy stuff with their eggs and bacon anyway.

  It wasn’t until Parker reached for the first coffee cup that he noticed the pie sitting in the middle of the table. It had one piece missing.

  “You brought a pie in here?” Parker asked, his chest so tight he was having trouble pulling air in.

  “I brought the pie in here,” Hank said, looking over the menu despite the fact that he could very recite it word for word and that he had had the same thing every Monday morning. He pretended to consider something new every week, but it never happened. Parker appreciated that about him. He already had the bacon ready to go.

  “The pie?” Parker repeated. “What’s that mean?”

  Hank lowered the menu and met his eyes. “That pie is the pie Ava made for you last night. It is officially her favorite pie. A pie she figured out all on her own. And one of the best damned pies I’ve ever eaten.”

  Parker suddenly wanted a bite of that pie more than he wanted all of these people to get the hell out of his diner. And he wanted that very fucking much.

  “Why’s it in here?” he asked, trying to sound pissed off. He thought he sounded more in pain than anything.

  “Because I intend to eat it with my breakfast,” Hank said.

  Parker narrowed his eyes. “I see.”

  “The same breakfast I’ve had every single Monday morning for the past thirteen years,” Hank added.

  Parker couldn’t look away from the older man. “The breakfast that has, apparently, been missing an apple pie chaser?”

  Hank shook his head. “This breakfast hasn’t been missing anything. It’s great as is. And even with a piece of pie after it, it will still be great. And taste exactly the way it always has.”

  Parker swallowed hard. “What’s your point, Hank?”

  “That adding pie is only going to make this breakfast bigger and sweeter. It’s not going to change that omelet and toast. Everything I love about that omelet will be the same.” Hank gave him a look. “You get what I’m saying?”

  Parker gave a bark of laughter. “You’re not subtle, Hank.”

  “So, you understand that adding that girl to your life doesn’t change all the stuff you love about it? It just makes it bigger and sweeter?” Hank asked.

  Parker felt the vise around his chest ease a little with Hank’s words, but he said, “And louder and busier and messier.”

  Hank chuckled and lifted his coffee cup.

  “It’s funny?” Parker asked.

  “Hell yeah, it’s funny,” Hank said, looking around the table. “That woman’s not only bossing you around in your own diner and tying you up in knots, but now she’s literally knocking down the walls around you.”

  Parker felt the air whoosh out of his lungs. Damn. Talk about symbolic stuff. He glanced over at Evan and Noah, who had swiveled on their stools to face Hank and the guys.

  “I don’t—” Parker cleared his throat. “I don’t actually care that she knocked a hole in the wall,” he admitted. If he couldn’t say it to these guys, who could he say it to? Because he wasn’t even being honest with himself.

  “So what’s the problem?” Walter asked.

  “Is it how she’s doing it?” Roger asked. “Just barging in and doing it without tiptoeing around your feelings?”

  Parker gave him a look. “Clearly the tiptoeing around feelings isn’t a widespread problem here.”

  Roger laughed. “Those of us who like ketchup on our steak tiptoe.”

  “Those of you who like ketchup on your steak are screwed up,” Parker said. “And that isn’t about my feelings.”

  “What’s it about then?” Roger wanted to know.

  “It’s about continuing to be served in here,” Parker told him flatly. “You follow the rules, or you don’t get my steak.”

  Hank nodded. “Ava doesn’t really follow rules either though, does she?”

  No, she freaking didn’t. Like the rule of no one else in his kitchen. And no one else doing anything in the diner. And of eating only off the menu. And of following recipes…

  Which was where his rules about rules got him into trouble. He knew better than anyone that recipes were best when regarded as nothing more than a starting point. Ava had seen recipes as rules and she’d really tried. It wasn’t until she’d tossed those out that good things had happened between her and the pies.

  “What’s your point?” Parker finally asked Hank.

  “That she didn’t just knock one of your walls down,” Hank said, meeting his eyes. “She knocked one of hers down too.”

  Parker felt like Hank had turned on a light in a dim room for him. What had been almost clear, was now suddenly bright and obvious.

  Ava’s grand gesture, as she’d called it, had been symbolic of combining their lives. But it was about more than her wanting to be a part of his life, even with changes. She was letting him into her life too. He wasn’t the only one that had walls up carefully protecting his territory and controlling his environment.

  “Rudy would get such a kick out of Ava finally getting pie inside this diner,” Walter said with a soft laugh.

  “But I don’t think he’d be surprised that she accomplished something he couldn’t,” Evan said from behind Parker. “She’s something and I’m sure Rudy knew that.”

  Everyone nodded at that as Parker’s gut knotted into a ball of need and regret and affection all at once.

  She’d done so much in a short time. She’d helped remodel the pie shop. She’d created the perfect apple pie recipe. She’d faced so many things outside of her comfort zone—from learning to whisk to handling a rooster. She’d changed her whole attitude toward her position at Carmichael. Hell, she’d moved to a place and taken on a job that was as foreign to her as she could probably get.

  What had Parker done that was new or challenging or different?

  He’d closed the diner a couple of days and made chicken salad.

  Parker ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling like a jackass. Okay, he’d felt like a jackass last night too, but he’d ignored it. He wasn’t ignoring it now.

  He couldn’t help but think of the way Rudy had come to town in a flashy Cadillac, how he’d thrown himself into life in Bliss, and had opened a pie shop next door to the diner, in part to show Parker that he wasn’t completely in control.

  His daughter had come into Parker’s life a lot like Rudy had. She’d arrived in a limo rather than a Cadillac, but she’d become a regular part of his life when he wasn’t looking. And she’d definitely showed him that he wasn’t completely in control. And now he couldn’t imagine a day in the diner without her. Or a day anywhere without her.

  “Yeah, the smell of pie coming in from next door can’t make anything worse,” Ben said.

  Parker cleared his throat. “You’re absolutely right. I love the smell of apple pie too.” It was something he could no longer smell without getting turned on, as a matter of fact. Which could be a problem if he was going to be smelling it all day long.

  Or he could just pull Ava into the storeroom once or twice a day…

  He drew himself up straight and took a deep breath. “I need to go.”

  “Go?” Walter asked. “But you haven’t made breakfast yet.”

  Parker shrugged. “I need to make some changes.”

  Noah grinned at the older men. “Evan and I were smart enough to eat before we enlightened him.”

  Parker returned the coffeepot to the burner and untied his apron, tossing it on the counter as his thoughts spun.

  “You’re leaving?” Evan asked.

  Parker nodded, distracted with the plan he was formulating. It was his turn for a grand gesture. And he knew just the one.

  “What about the breakfast crowd?” Evan glanced around. “They’ll be here any minute.”

  Parker shrugged.

  “Do you want us to close up for you?” Noah asked.
r />   “You can’t close up again,” Walter said. “You’ve been closed for the past three days.”

  “I’ve had cereal at home three mornings in a row,” Ben added.

  “Help yourself to the kitchen,” Parker said. “Everything’s in there.” He wondered if he could convince Larry Miller to open the hardware store for him this early. He wasn’t sure he had all the supplies he would need to pull off what he was envisioning.

  “You’re letting us into this kitchen?” Walter said.

  Parker barely heard him. He shrugged. “Sure.”

  “And what do we do once we’re in there?” Ben asked.

  “Make breakfast,” Parker said. “There’s a stove, pans, what else do you need?”

  “You,” Ben said, as if it was obvious.

  “Yeah, well, you’re on your own today,” Parker said.

  “Uh, Parker?” Noah asked.

  He looked concerned when Parker focused on him. “Yeah?”

  “You’re inviting people in to cook their own breakfasts in your kitchen?”

  “Yeah.”

  “They’re going to mess it up,” Noah pointed out.

  “And probably put things back in the wrong places,” Evan said. “Maybe break dishes,” he added quickly as if it had just occurred to him.

  “Yeah, well…” Parker shrugged. “I’ve got something more important to do.”

  “More important than this diner?” Noah asked, but he was already smiling.

  Parker grinned back at him. “Yep. Something more important than this diner.”

  “Well, holy shit,” Noah muttered.

  “But we don’t know your recipes,” Walter said.

  Parker looked around, but he found himself meeting Hank’s eyes. Hank gave him a little nod. Parker smiled. “Well, Walter, sometimes the best things happen when you don’t follow a recipe.” Parker felt the adrenaline, determination, and rightness of what he was going to do flood through him.

  But just as he was stepping through the swinging door, Roger called, “Does this mean we can start putting ketchup on our steak?”