Lovebird Café Box Set

by Dylann Crush

  Robbie handed me a plastic wine glass. “No. I want it to be a surprise. He’s not doing so great. I hope he has a chance to see it before…”

  His words trailed off as he squinted into the sun. This was my Robbie. He might have changed on the outside, shed his boyish outer image as he morphed into a man, but he still had the biggest heart. Even after all the hell his dad had put him through, he was still trying to make good in the eyes of his father.

  I wrapped a hand around his arm. “He will.”

  Robbie nodded. “Hey, this is supposed to be a celebration.” He turned to me, smiling, as he lifted his glass.

  “You’re right. What exactly are we celebrating?”

  “Us. To new beginnings.” He tapped his plastic wine glass against mine.

  I hesitated, not wanting to encourage him. But the hope and excitement in his eyes were too real, too raw. “Okay, to new beginnings.” I took a sip, reminding myself not to get too caught up. My new beginning would be taking place hundreds of miles south of here. Robbie might hold out hope that this could be the start of something new. To me, the time we had left had to be about honoring the past and figuring out how to let go.

  20

  Robbie

  “You ready, Cass?” I pulled open the screen door and shouted into the front room. We’d finished up the kitchen renovation last week. Cassie had been cooking up a storm ever since. She’d plied me with weird jalapeno egg rolls and Mexican rice with some kind of nutty teriyaki chicken. I finally told her I couldn’t take any more of her new ideas and to hit me up with some of her grandma’s old specialties. She’d promised me chicken and dumplings tonight. But first, I wanted to show her something I’d been looking at in town. Hopefully, it wouldn’t ruin the rest of our evening.

  “Hey.” She popped over to give me a sweet kiss as I entered the kitchen. Flour covered the new butcher block counter. Big Bertha had been hauled out back—it had taken a whole team of us to move her. Cassie slid her hand into an oven mitt before reaching into the new double oven to pull out a batch of mini pot pies.

  “What are you doing?” I wrapped my arms around her, nestling my chin against her neck as she set the cookie sheet down on a hot pad.

  She spun in my arms and leaned against the counter. “Just trying out the new oven.”

  “And? How do you like it?” My lips pressed against her neck. Her pulse quickened in response.

  “I love it.” She pulled me closer.

  Nothing could make me happier in that moment, with Cassie in my arms and the scent of heavenly home cooking hanging in the air. Nothing except her telling me she’d decided to stay. But that was still a work in progress.

  “Ready to go for a drive?” I asked.

  “Every time you ask me that, I get a little nervous. I never know what you’ve got in mind.” She tossed the oven mitt onto the counter and tangled her hands in my hair. “You want me to cut your hair one night this week?”

  “Nah.” I nudged her back, leaning down to mesh my mouth with hers. Having Cassie here, all to myself…I’d never get tired of it.

  She broke the kiss first. A teasing smirk danced over her lips. “Don’t you think it’s getting a little long?”

  “Yeah. But if you cut it, you wouldn’t be able to run your fingers through it anymore.” I bent to kiss her again, never able to fill that bottomless need I hauled around with me. Knowing she thought our time was limited, put a strain on our time together, even though I tried not to think about it. But I felt like I had to fill up on kisses, on overdosing on her scent, the feel of her in my arms, everything that had anything to do with Cassie—in case my plan didn’t work.

  “Fine.” She ducked out of my embrace. “Let it grow. I’ve always thought you’d look great with a mullet.”

  I snagged an oven mitt off the counter and swatted at her ass. “Nobody said anything about a mullet.”

  She turned around to size me up. “Didn’t your dad wear a mullet back in high school? I swear I’ve seen some pictures.”

  If there was one thing that would get me worked up, it was being compared to my dad. Cassie knew it and dammit, she knew I knew she knew it. Game on. “Get over here.”

  She danced around the new kitchen table—a huge piece of wood I’d salvaged from an oak that had blown down in a storm a few years ago. I’d been saving the giant slab for something special and couldn’t think of a better project than a handmade addition to what I’d always consider Cassie’s family’s place.

  “No way. You’ve got that look in your eyes.”

  “What look?” I dodged right, trying to grab hold of her arm.

  She laughed, pulling away. “That look that says we’re not going to make it out the front door if you catch me.”

  She was right. There had been quite a few evenings we’d made plans and never followed through. I’d been spending more nights with Cassie than I had at home lately. But tonight was different. Tonight I had to show her something I’d been working on for the past week and a half. Something I hoped she’d have a hard time turning down.

  Cassie

  An hour after Robbie showed up, we finally managed to leave the house. Evidently the smell of fresh baked chicken pot pie was his instant aphrodisiac. Who knew? I practically bounced up and down on the passenger seat of his truck, eager to find out what he absolutely had to show me. He stopped at the curb, right in front of the old Lovebird Café.

  “Please tell me you’re turning this into your new construction office and that’s why you brought me here.” I leveled a no-nonsense frown at him. He’d been amping up his efforts to prove there was plenty to keep me in Swallow Springs, but this took his determination to a whole new level.

  “I just want you to see the inside, okay? No pressure.” He squeezed my hand then pulled me close to kiss my temple.

  I closed my eyes, breathing him in. “Right.”

  “No, really. I had a meeting in the building next door earlier this week and had a chance to peek inside. It got me thinking.”

  My palm pressed against the soft cotton of his shirt. “Thinking, huh? We’re not supposed to be thinking about things. What happened to just living for the moment? Taking one day at a time and enjoying the summer together?”

  “You’re right.” He wrapped both hands around the steering wheel. “Sorry, I was getting ahead of myself.”

  I didn’t say a word, just pursed my lips and waited.

  “Yep. I got it.” He cranked the key in the ignition. “It’s too bad though. They just installed a few new deck ovens right before they closed down. Thought maybe you’d like to see how they laid out the kitchen. It’s pretty cool.”

  “Wait.” If chicken pot pie was Robbie’s number one turn on, brand spanking new commercial kitchen equipment was mine. I put my hand on his arm. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to just take a look. Maybe I can get some ideas for the new place in Dallas.”

  “Well, if you’re sure you want to.” Robbie smirked. He knew he’d piqued my interest with the promise of ovens and wattage and heat. How was I so easily swayed?

  We climbed out of the truck and Robbie pulled a key from his pocket.

  “Who gave you a key?”

  “I told the owner of the building I wanted to check it out.”

  “And they trusted you with the key?”

  He shrugged. “In Swallow Springs? If anything turns up missing, they won’t have to go far to find me.”

  True. Another reminder of just how small of a town Swallow Springs really was. You couldn’t even turn around without fifteen people asking why you were changing direction.

  The bell above the door jangled as we entered the old diner. Late afternoon light slanted across the Formica tables by the window. Memories swirled around, making me dizzy, filling my head with images of times long past. Me and Robbie snuggling in the back corner booth…Grandma and Grandpa treating me to a stack of chocolate chip pancakes after church on Sunday…This place had once been the heart of downtown. Now it sat, practical
ly untouched since they’d shut the doors.

  Robbie took a seat at the counter. “They used to have the best Reuben sandwiches. Remember that homemade Thousand Island dressing?”

  “Yeah.” I hopped onto a stool next to him and spun around. “But I always loved the cherry bomb pie.”

  “Best chicken-fried steak in Missouri.” Robbie kicked a foot out to stop my spinning. “Although yours is better.”

  I leaned an elbow on the counter. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work.”

  He laughed. “Oh yeah? What am I trying to do?”

  “Get me all warm and fuzzy inside, thinking about how I could reopen this place and make it my own.”

  Robbie faked surprise. “Well hell, Cass. The thought never occurred to me. But now that you mention it…”

  I rolled my eyes. “Right.”

  “No, really” He hopped off his stool. “You could change the seating around here to add a space for more tables.”

  “Or I could put up a wall over there and expand the kitchen. Mrs. Cahill’s been talking about needing a place to do some catering.” A glimmer of an idea sparked. “There’s plenty of seating here, especially if we took out that line of booths and put in some more round tables.”

  “Sure.” Robbie nodded. “And they still have that little patio out back.”

  “Really?” My brain spun with possibilities. “Wouldn’t it be so cute to put some bistro tables out there and decorate with birdhouses and bird baths? You know, keep the lovebird theme going?”

  Robbie leaned against a table. “Whatever you think.”

  “And the kitchen—” I pushed through the swinging doors to check out the equipment. “They’ve got everything here someone would need to open up again.”

  My gaze flew over the stainless counters and commercial-grade appliances. The deck ovens Robbie mentioned sat against the back wall, beckoning me to peek inside.

  “Wouldn’t take much to slap a fresh coat of paint on the walls,” Robbie called from the dining area.

  He was right, it wouldn’t. Visions of what could be played through my mind. I imagined a full house on a Sunday morning. The faint smell of bacon drifted past my nose. I could almost hear the chicken-fried steak bubbling in the fryer and the comforting whir of a hooded vent fan—the perfect kind of white noise to soothe my soul.

  Folks from Swallow Springs and the surrounding communities would have a place to gather again. How many times had I sat at one of the tables by the front window while Grandpa sipped on an endless cup of coffee while he read the paper? I could do this, I knew it. But slinging hash browns and flipping grilled cheese sandwiches wasn’t what I’d been busting my ass for over the past several years.

  The Lovebird Café would never top the short list of hot new places to try or attract food critics from hundreds of miles away. The sparkle of what could be dimmed, fading back against the dingy, grease-stained walls and washed-out linoleum of the past.

  “So, what do you think?” Robbie’s gaze held hope.

  “I think it could be great.”

  He smiled, the kind of smile that welled up from deep inside. I didn’t want to tell him that I meant it could be great for someone else. Time was going to take care of that for me, and we were running short.

  “Now how about we get back to those chicken and dumplings I promised you?”

  “This place looks good on you, Cass. Aren’t you tempted at all?”

  “I’ll think about.”

  “Promise?” He held out a hand.

  I slid mine into his and held on tight. “Yeah, I promise.” And I meant it, too. I’d think about it, but I already knew my dreams were bigger than Swallow Springs. I also knew the longer I stayed, the more Robbie would weasel his way back into my heart, and the harder it was going to be to leave him when the time came.

  21

  Robbie

  “That was incredible.” I pushed back from the table, letting out a satisfied sigh. My belly was stuffed beyond the point of full thanks to the huge batch of chicken and dumplings Cassie had made.

  She stood from the table, snagging my plate as she turned toward the sink.

  “Hey, not so fast.” I wrapped an arm around her to pull her into my lap. “I’ll clean up.”

  “Good. I’ll let you.” She set the plates back down on the table and wrapped her arms around my neck.

  We sat in silence for a few beats, the rhythmic tick-tock of her grandma’s vintage kitchen clock the only sound in the newly renovated kitchen. I ran my hand up and down her back, committing the feel of her against me to memory.

  “Work’s going pretty well on the place.”

  Cass nestled into my chest. “Yeah, it’s coming together.”

  I needed to ask, had been putting it off for the past two weeks. “Can I ask you something?”

  She tensed. “Is it about the Lovebird Café?”

  “No.” My hand stilled. I was hoping she’d seize that opportunity and run with it. But Cass wasn’t the kind of woman to make snap decisions. I’d planted the seed of an idea, along with half of Swallow Springs, it seemed. Now I needed to sit back and let her work it out on her own. But I did need to push on a few other things. “It’s about the bathtub.”

  A groan vibrated through her. “Do we have to give up the tub?”

  “It’s up to you. Most folks will want a shower though. Unless you want to add on a bathroom somewhere—”

  “No. That’s not in the budget. I suppose a shower would be more appealing to a buyer. But I’ve already let Big Bertha go. I know it’s the right thing to do. Just give me a few more days, okay?”

  “You got it. But don’t wait too long, or you won’t get your money in time.”

  Cassie turned toward the window. The renovations had been giving her a hard time. She hadn’t admitted it but I could tell by the way she cringed every time I ripped a piece of wallpaper off the wall or tore out a piece of wood paneling. The place was looking good. Once she finally agreed to replace the tub with a shower/tub combination she’d be just about ready to list it.

  Hattie Hayes had called a truce and had been poking around after I’d ended things with Caroline. Evidently securing a listing held more weight than holding a grudge. She wanted to bring a couple local folks through before she officially put it on the market. If I had my way, Cassie would finally come to her senses and decide she belonged here with me, not in some high-class, lah-ti-dah kitchen in Dallas.

  “You staying over?” She stood and made a move to grab the plates again.

  I nudged her hands out of the way. “Hey, I said I’d clean up. You want me to?”

  “If you’re up for it.” She bit her bottom lip.

  “I’d like to.” Jake and I were taking the team to a baseball tournament over the next few days. Tonight was my last night to spend with Cassie, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

  She nodded. “Good.”

  “Well, it’s settled then. I’ll clean up the kitchen. Why don’t you go relax? Maybe take a bath in that tub.” I lifted a brow.

  The edges of her mouth turned up in a grin. Damn she was beautiful when she smiled—all lit up from the inside out. “What exactly are you suggesting, Mr. Jordan?”

  I set the plates down on the counter and turned on the shiny new faucet. “I’m not suggesting anything. Just thought maybe we ought to try out the tub one more time. You know, for old time’s sake.”

  “How long’s it going to take you to clean up the kitchen?” She pressed into my backside as she slid her hands into my pockets.

  Need coursed through my veins. “About as long as it ought to take you to strip down and fill up that tub.”

  Her laugh cascaded through her chest, vibrating against my back. I fought the urge to turn around and start something right there on the new kitchen counters.

  “I guess I’d better get a move on.” She kissed my shoulder than stepped away.

  As I rinsed the plates, I turned to watch her m
ove through the kitchen toward the back porch. She lifted her T-shirt over her head then tossed it on the ground. By the time she’d pulled the elastic out of her hair, I’d flipped off the water and covered the distance between us.

  “Robbie, what are you doing? I thought you were going to clean up the kitchen?”

  My soapy hands slipped under the tank top she had on underneath. “The dishes can wait, Cassafras, but I can’t.”

  Cassie

  “Come on in, Cass. The water feels great.” Robbie had stripped naked after he’d turned on the tap. He leaned back, draping his arms over the edges.

  I let my gaze drift over his bare body. His arms were browned by the sun, at least from mid-biceps and below. “Nice farmer tan you’ve got going there.”

  A half-smile quirked on his lips and he reached up, cupping a hand behind my neck and pulling me closer. I leaned in for his kiss, always eager for the sweet taste of his lips on mine. We’d spent the past couple of weeks joined at the lips, and I still couldn’t get enough of him. I thought giving in to the old feelings would make it easier to say goodbye, but instead it would be especially hard to leave him when our time was up.

  As the kiss deepened, he parted his lips and slipped his tongue inside my mouth. My hands twisted the wet curls at the nape of his neck. He’d been working outside on the siding all day, and the smell of sweat and sunshine drifted off his skin. I tried to brand this perfect moment into my brain.

  He slid his hands up under my tank, his fingers fumbled with the clasp of my bra, impatient, clumsy. I pushed them away. “Let me.” I finished the job he started, then pulled my arms through the straps and let my bra fall to the floor. His hands reached for me and I leaned forward, eager for his touch, hungry for the feel of his hands on my bare skin.

  “Fuck it.” Robbie wrapped an arm around my back and pulled me close.

  I half fell, half slid into the tub, the warm water soaking my skirt. Water splashed up over the edge and onto the tile floor.