The Bigfoot Diner. It was the most kitschy, ridiculous restaurant in all of Wildwood, if not the entire county. An ode to her grandfather, who had loved anything and everything having to do with Bigfoot. He’d always said he wanted to open a restaurant that everyone would call the BFD. He’d talked about it for years, scoping out available restaurants when they were for sale, contemplating exactly how he would open one and what he would do. He’d even created a menu, giving the items creative Bigfoot-related names.
No one had taken him seriously. Except his wife.
No one thought it was a joke now. Everyone loved the Bigfoot Diner. It had the best hamburgers in town. All of the food was good. The restaurant’s Yelp rating was a solid 4.6 and it had over one thousand reviews. Her grandma had taken her late husband’s dream and turned it into a reality—and a total success.
“Your break-free moment was a positive one,” Harper pointed out.
“I had many, many others that weren’t so positive.” Her grandma smiled. “You have to remember I’ve been around a lot longer than you, dear. You’re still young. You still have many break-free moments to look forward to. Some of them will be mistakes, but don’t let them get you down. That’s just a part of life.”
Harper took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She hoped her grandma was right. Breaking up with Roger so quickly hadn’t allowed her much time to consider the other things that came with ending their relationship. Like . . . finding a new place to live. Finding a new job. She’d never describe herself as spontaneous, but this was by far the most spontaneous thing she’d ever done. “Do you mind if I stay with you for a while longer? Until I figure out what I’m going to do next?” she asked.
Her grandma gave her a look, one that said she was surprised at the question. “Well . . . I suppose. Though I hope you don’t cramp my style.”
Harper frowned. “Cramp your style? How could I do that?” Yes, fine, she knew her grandma had a better social life than she did, but how could she hold her back? Grandma did whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted to.
“I do have . . . friends. Of a . . . gentleman nature.” Her grandma’s lips screwed up into a little bright pink pout.
Harper kept her expression completely neutral. “I won’t interfere with your dates. I promise.”
“Not just dates.” Grandma leaned over the table, her voice lowering to a whisper. “Sometimes I have sleepovers too.”
Oh. She really tried not to look too scandalized, but she could feel her eyes growing wider. The last thing she wanted to think about was her grandma um . . . yeah. She couldn’t even go there in her own head. “Well, if you’re worried about me cramping your style, maybe I could stay at the condo?”
“Weston Gallagher lives there now, remember?” Grandma smiled.
No, Harper didn’t remember because no one had mentioned that he was the new resident in her grandma’s condo by the lake. “I didn’t know,” she mumbled.
“Oh, yes. He promised he’d fix the place up too. Nothing I like more than a man who’s good with his hands.”
Harper’s cheeks went hot. West was very good with his hands. She could personally testify to that statement. She couldn’t believe he lived there. She’d stayed at the condo before she moved in with Roger, so was he sleeping in her old bed, too? Most likely.
She hadn’t seen West since the Forks Bar a few nights ago. They’d flirted a little bit, but once Tate entered the bar, he’d monopolized West for the rest of the evening. They’d talked about work, and though at one point she’d sworn West looked a little pained over whatever they were chatting about, overall he and Tate seemed to get along just fine.
And for whatever reason, that had driven Wren crazy. She’d muttered about it to Harper the entire night, watching her brother and Tate far too closely. Harper noticed Tate kept looking over at them, offering up a sexy smile, his gaze only for . . .
Wren.
There was definitely something brewing between Wren and Tate, though Harper had no idea why Wren was fighting it so hard. Had Harper been so wrapped up in her own boring relationship she hadn’t noticed that her best friend and Tate had some sort of thing going on? Why hadn’t Wren ever mentioned it to her before? Why weren’t they acting on it? If Harper had a guy as hot as Tate salivating over her and she was single, she’d go for it, no question. Wren wasn’t attached and neither was Tate. So what was the big deal?
She swore she was going to find out. And soon.
“I’m guessing since West won’t be there much, what with work and all, maybe you could ask him if he needs a roommate. Then you could take the guest bedroom. What do you think?” her grandma asked.
Horror filled Harper and she furiously shook her head. She thought her grandma had straight lost her mind, that’s what. “Um, absolutely not. I can’t move in with West. That’s . . . crazy.”
“Why? He’s only there half the time and once the fire season really kicks into gear, he probably won’t be there hardly ever,” Grandma pointed out. “Hmm, I do hope he’s going to work on the condo before he gets too wrapped up in fighting fires.”
What her grandma was suggesting was ludicrous. She couldn’t even begin to wrap her head around the idea of living with West. Spending lots of time with him, seeing him during private, intimate moments: West fresh out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his hips and his skin still damp. Or West first thing in the morning, his dark hair a mess, his eyes sleepy as he shuffled into the kitchen in search of coffee.
Hmm. Maybe she could imagine it. That was the problem.
“Living with West is out of the question,” Harper finally said, glancing down at her empty coffee cup. “I need a job, too, Grandma. Just something temporary until I can—”
Her grandma cut her off, resting a hand to her chest, her bright red nails flashing as she said, “Oh, thank the Lord above. I thought you were going to continue working for Roger and that just wouldn’t do, Harper. Not at all.”
“You’re right, I know. I just . . . I couldn’t do it. I need to find something else.”
She was here on a Wednesday morning. Roger had given her the week off—paid of course—so she could go in search of another job. But they were so few and far between in Wildwood. Maybe she could wait tables at the BFD until something better came along. Not that she was especially good at waiting tables, but a girl had to make money to live.
And Roger understood. He always understood. While at one point in their relationship she’d found his intuitive ways nurturing, so reaffirming of his love, after a while, it had just started to grate on her nerves. Why hadn’t he ever yelled? Gotten mad? He had one mood and it was always the same: Calm. Even. Unruffled. In certain situations, it came in handy. But other times, she wanted more. She wanted . . .
Passion. It always came back to that.
“Of course you couldn’t continue working for him. Now you’re going to work for me.”
Harper blinked at her grandmother, remaining silent. This was exactly what she wanted, but she’d figured she’d have to ask for the job.
“If I could give you one bit of relationship advice, I’d say never allow the man you’re dating to be in a position of power over you. Roger was your boss.”
Grandma shook her head, her gaze going hazy like it did when she was reminiscing. “I never dated a man I worked for. Not like I’ve worked many jobs in my life, to be truthful. But did you know that crazy old coot Buster Boner tried to hit me up about a year after your grandpa passed? He approached me at one of those Friday Nights at the Lake events and told me he had seventy-five thousand dollars in savings and two tickets to Hawaii—was I in?”
Her grandma changed subjects as quickly as the wind shifted on a particularly hot day in Wildwood.
“Were you in for what?” Harper vaguely remembered Buster Boner. First, because really, who could forget that completely unforgivable and horrendous name? Buster was a nickname—he’d actually chosen to be called that versus whatever his real name was. He’d
been a part of her grandma’s social circle back when Harper was a teenager and he was quite the storyteller.
“He wanted to take care of me.” Grandma made quotation marks in the air with her fingers. “Saw me as a helpless old widow I guess. Thought he’d win me over with an exotic trip and oodles of money.” Grandma shook her head, made a disapproving noise. “Men. They’re ridiculous. Or they’re wonderful. Take your pick.”
Harper laughed. “They’re all of those things. I completely agree.”
“Of course you do. Now.” Grandma slid out of the booth and clapped her hands once. Her signal that meant she was getting down to business. “Let me show you what I’d like you to do for me here at the BFD.”
Harper followed suit, frowning as she stood. “I thought I would just be a waitress?” The very last thing she wanted to be. Maybe she could be the cashier instead? Or the hostess? Though the BFD never had someone who was strictly the hostess. God, she didn’t know what she was going to do.
“Oh, goodness no. You’re too qualified for that. I’m going to let you into my inner sanctum, you lucky girl.” Her grandma started walking toward the back of the restaurant, but Harper remained rooted to the floor.
The inner sanctum was code for her grandma’s office. She never let anyone back there. It was forbidden. She had her own filing system—total chaos—and if anyone came in and toppled over one of the piles of receipts or folders or whatever, that was it. Her grandma went into a full-blown tizzy, shooing them out and barricading the door.
So everyone just stayed out of her office. It was easier that way.
When Harper still hadn’t followed her grandma turned, glaring at her. “Come on now. I don’t have all day.”
“Um, why do you want me to go to your office?” Harper asked nervously.
Grandma had a look on her face that clearly said duh. “Because I want you to eventually take over the business, my darling girl. No one else could run this place but me—or you. And besides”—she grinned—“I have over two hundred thousand in the bank and I plan on buying two tickets to Hawaii. I’m going to need some time trying to size up which old coot I want to take along with me when I retire once and for all.”
“I’M FUCKING STARVING,” West muttered under his breath as he hopped out of the fire engine and slammed the door. The rest of his shift team joined him at the back of the engine and they all headed toward the entrance of the restaurant together as one.
This was his last full day on shift. Tomorrow morning at eight, he’d be off. It had been a productive four days, learning the routine of his new station, getting everyone’s names straight, quietly figuring out who could possibly be trouble and who was a solid member of his team. So far, no one seemed to be much trouble. But it was still early in the fire season yet—Memorial Day weekend had only just passed—and all of them had been on their best behavior.
He could smell the tantalizing scent of burgers as far as the parking lot and his stomach growled in answer. They’d been going at it steadily since six this morning. Menial calls, every one of them, but just enough to keep them busy and unable to eat a real meal. He’d scarfed down a protein bar around ten and had a bottle of water with him always, but he was down-to-the-bones hungry.
And he was dying for a burger basket special from the BFD. When was the last time he came to this place? He couldn’t remember. The Bigfoot Diner opened when he was still in high school, and at first he and his friends had done nothing but make fun of the place. Until they all went in together one night and tried the food out, only to discover it was mouthwateringly delicious.
They quit making fun of it after that.
Besides, he’d heard a rumor that Harper was working here and he was hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Totally juvenile of him, he knew, but he really was craving a BFD burger. They were the best in town.
“Do you eat here much?” West asked no one in particular. He knew one of them would eventually pipe up.
“I’m not much of a meat eater,” Tori sniffed. The lone female firefighter on his crew, he liked Tori. Thank Christ she wasn’t a newbie. They were too antsy and ready for action, like overeager puppies. Though she did have a stick up her butt half the time. Not that he could blame her. The guys were brutal. He used to be too, but now that he had to manage the crew? He was their leader and couldn’t blow it by making some offhand remark.
“Yeah, we’ve heard that,” one of the bozos said right before he started to crack up, but he was the only one laughing. Jon was his name. Cocky, mouthy, good-looking, and young, he was a newbie and the son of someone in the human resources department at headquarters, which made his attitude that much worse.
In other words, West couldn’t stand the nineteen-year-old little asshole.
“Better watch your mouth,” West said, his low tone warning enough. Jon’s lips snapped shut and he sent a look to the other guys standing nearby. West turned away, not really caring if he pissed the kid off or not. He had a crew to run.
More like he had a crew to feed.
West pushed through the front door, Tori directly behind him, the rest of the crew falling into line after her.
They’d shed their turnouts earlier, after they’d fought a small vegetation fire started by a car flying off the road and landing in an empty cattle field. The hot transmission had lit the tall, dry grass beneath the car and within seconds more than an acre was burning. They got the fire out quick, but they were lucky the air still held a hint of moisture. Come late July into August, forget it. It would be dry as a bone.
He had to savor these days while he still had them. Predictions for this summer’s fire season were off the charts. What with California suffering through a major drought, the conditions were ripe for most of the state to burn right up. The forest that surrounded Wildwood was dotted with dying trees, the lush green pines broken up by more and more brown trees as time went on. If they didn’t have a wet winter with plenty of rain and snow soon, the entire forest was likely to die.
And then burn up.
A cute waitress approached, greeting them with a bright smile and an overenthusiastic hello. Her green T-shirt with the Bigfoot Diner logo emblazoned on the front stretched tight over her tits and he swore her nipples were hard. West did his best not to look at her chest, but the other guys were blatantly checking her out and practically drooling. Not that she seemed to mind.
Christ, he felt like an old man with this bunch.
“You want to sit outside or at a table in here?” the blonde waitress chirped at him, waving a hand at the remaining empty tables. Most everyone was sitting outside on the patio, enjoying the warm weather.
“Inside’s fine.” They needed to cool off and the restaurant’s air-conditioning felt amazing. They all settled at a large table that could seat at least ten, most of them not bothering to look at a menu, West included.
He knew exactly what he wanted. Burger basket, no onions with a side of the special fry sauce that wasn’t advertised. Only locals knew about it. Funny, how he’d fallen into his local routine pretty much the moment he’d stepped back into Wildwood.
“So what made you leave this place? I figured all Gallaghers were lifers when it came to Wildwood,” Tori said to him after the waitress took everyone’s order.
West was surprised by her question. Was she a mind reader or what? Didn’t much like being called a lifer either. “I was offered a promotion so I took it,” he said slowly, refusing to comment on the lifer part. “Why do you ask?”
As discreetly as he could possibly be, he let his gaze slide around the room in search of Harper, but she was nowhere in sight. He thought it was kind of odd, her possibly working at the diner. Didn’t she work with her boyfriend? Hadn’t she left to go to college for a few years? Hell, why hadn’t she just flat out left for good? That’s what he’d done though here he was, back where he started.
Harper was too damn good for this town.
Tori shrugged. “I know Holden, and he’s mentioned you a few t
imes. How you left Wildwood as fast as you could.” When West still hadn’t said anything she continued, “Holden and I were stationed together our first year. We went to the academy together.”
All firefighters had to go to the academy before they were assigned to a station. If they failed, they couldn’t become firefighters. It was hard enough to get into Cal Fire. Nothing worse than getting through the first gate only to be sent home packing because you couldn’t pass the basic physical tests.
West had just finished up at the academy near Sacramento a few weeks ago. It was a requirement for his promotion—the engineer was the one who drove the fire engine and he had to pass the driver’s test. Talk about sweating bullets. He’d practiced taking the test again and again, knocking over fewer and fewer cones with every try. Managing to squeeze that big-ass engine between the strategically placed orange cones hadn’t been easy.
But he’d passed. Still felt damn good just thinking about it too.
“So you and Holden are friends?” West didn’t think Holden could be friends with someone of the opposite sex, especially someone as naturally pretty as Tori, what with her long dark hair and warm brown eyes. But maybe considering he was so happy, so solid with Kirsten, Holden didn’t even notice Tori.
Yeah right.
“Sort of. We don’t really see each other much anymore except in passing.” Tori sent him a meaningful look. “Are you happy to be back here?”
“I guess?” West hadn’t meant for it to sound like a question, but he really wasn’t sure how he felt about being in Wildwood. His father hadn’t seemed thrilled at his return and he figured the old man would give him endless crap for coming back. So far, they hadn’t talked much.
Just the way West liked it.
“I think I get what you mean. There’s nothing to do here. I’m not even from this silly little town.” Tori shrugged, casting her gaze about the restaurant with a critical eye. “I mean, really. A Bigfoot-themed restaurant? How lame can we get?”
“They have the best fucking burgers in town. Hands down,” Jon said firmly, interrupting their conversation like he’d been listening the entire time. Nosy little fucker. “So quit your complaining. It’s not our fault you’re a vegetarian.”
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