Josh trailed along after them, indulging in a quick up-and-down look at Michael’s body. Definitely out of Josh’s league.
But here they were, and it was about damned time Josh stopped questioning his luck and started enjoying it. He took two running steps and caught up with Michael, keeping his distance when Kaylee slipped between them. Michael smiled at him, warm and welcoming and friendly, and Josh met his eyes and smiled back. The air between them sparked.
“Think about where you want to go for dinner,” Michael said, breaking eye contact after a few steps. “I don’t know what’s good here anymore.”
“No problem.” Josh reached down to scratch Kaylee’s ears instead of touching Michael’s arm. Baby steps. “I’ll take care of you.”
As soon as Josh opened the door to the Rocky Shores Diner, Betty called out, “Hey, Josh! How’s it going? How’s—” She cut off, going wide-eyed a heartbeat later when she spotted Michael at Josh’s back.
Josh held the door for Michael and Kaylee. “Things are good. It’s just the two of us. Dad’s still at the shop.”
“Sit where you like.” Betty crossed behind the counter, stopping only to pick up two menus.
Josh stepped out of the way to let Michael choose where they sat. Once again, Michael went for the corner, positioning himself so he could see the door. After he and Kaylee were settled, Josh sat down opposite, much as he wanted to share the same bench and sit pressed close to Michael.
When Betty hurried over, Josh took his menu, saying, “Thanks. But aren’t you usually on night shift?”
“Technically I start in ten minutes,” she said, making a show of checking her watch, “but for my favorite customer, I can clock in early.” She clapped a hand on Josh’s shoulder and turned her sharp gaze on Michael, offering him a menu. “You, I remember from the other night. Welcome back, hon. You sticking around for a while?”
Michael nodded, mumbling his thanks as he took the menu. Sensing his discomfort, Josh quickly asked, “Can I get a Coke? I’m dying without caffeine here. I’ve been up since before dawn.”
Betty nodded without looking away from Michael. “And for you, hon?”
Michael darted a glance at her, then looked back down, fussing with his messenger bag. “Just water, no lemon, thanks.”
Had Michael been that uncomfortable when he first came into Bagel End? Josh remembered him being reserved but friendly. Shy, not completely introverted.
As Betty left, Josh put his menu aside and folded his arms on the table, leaning forward. “As your local island guide, I can give you a few tips, if you want.”
Michael’s smile made a reappearance, thankfully. He took an eyeglass case out of the messenger bag and set it on the table, though he didn’t put on the glasses. “Go for it.”
Josh almost regretted the offer—Michael really had been hot as hell in those glasses—but hopefully he’d have another chance some other night. “The burgers are a solid choice. The dinner platters look fancy, but they can be iffy, depending on who’s cooking tonight. But no matter what, you want the steak fries. No cheese, no chili, no Cajun seasoning. Plain, delicious steak fries.” He grinned. “The after-dinner milk shake is optional. Or after-lunch, I guess.”
Bemused, Michael put the eyeglass case back in the bag, then set his menu on top of Josh’s. “How can I resist that sort of recommendation? I’ll follow your lead.”
“What about something for Kaylee?”
“She’s good. I’ll give her some leftovers once we’re done, but she’ll have dinner at home. I picked up some groceries before we hit the vet’s office.”
“Does this mean you won’t be coming in tomorrow?” Josh asked before realizing how desperate that sounded. The last thing he wanted was to give Michael a heavy sales pitch. “And shit! I completely forgot.”
Michael frowned, leaning closer. “Forgot what?”
“I made you extra everything bagels to take home, but with the morning rush . . .” Josh shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you don’t . . .” Michael laughed quietly and slid his hand across the table just far enough that his fingers brushed against Josh’s. “You don’t have to. And now I have an excuse to come in tomorrow.”
Yes! That touch was intentional, direct, a clear signal that Michael’s interest was more than friendly.
But before Josh could turn his hand over and reciprocate, Michael jerked away, looking past Josh to watch Betty come over with their drinks. She was too sharp-eyed to have missed what she interrupted, though she didn’t say anything. Yet. Josh was positive the inquisition would start next time he came in, whether he was with his dad or not.
“Okay, boys,” she said, taking out her order pad. “Decide what you want yet, or do you need more time?”
While Josh was trying to figure out what to say that didn’t involve swearing, Michael said, “You can order for both of us. I’m having whatever you are.”
And that made up for Betty’s untimely interruption. Josh handed her the menus, saying, “Two bacon cheeseburgers, medium, and steak fries.”
“You got it.” She didn’t wink at Josh, but her smirk was just for him, visible only when she turned away from Michael and walked off.
“So, what else do I need to know about living here on the island?” Michael asked when he and Josh were alone. Kaylee, once again wearing her vest, had fallen asleep almost as soon as she settled under the table. Her head was pillowed on his feet, and he could feel her warm breath puffing against his sock. “If I’m going to make this a permanent change, I may as well know everything.”
“Okay. Let’s see . . .” Josh slouched back, looking at the wall over Michael’s head for a moment. “Avoid the bars on the south end year-round. They’re packed with either tourists or college kids.”
Michael winced, thinking of DC’s dimly lit nightclubs. “Not a problem. I think my bar days are over.”
Josh raised an eyebrow but let that pass. “We don’t have much of a nightlife here at all. The bowling alley is kind of outdated, but it’s got pool tables and an arcade. It’s big with the high school crowd on weekends, but there’s a bowling league, if that’s your thing.”
“Not really,” Michael said before realizing Josh might be a bowler. He shook his head, explaining, “I have some balance problems. Bowling wouldn’t work unless Kaylee could help.”
Josh’s eyes lit up with his smile. “Okay, now I kind of want to see her running a bowling ball down the lane.”
Michael laughed and twitched his foot, though Kaylee didn’t stir. “She’d give it a damn good try. She used to love playing with a soccer ball.”
“We have to do that one day.” Josh took a sip of his Coke. “Speaking of which, we’ve got soccer fields and a baseball diamond behind the elementary school, open to the public on weekends, I think. Bicycle and walking trails through the woods, and the greenbelt near some of the waterfront properties.”
“That’ll be nice for Kaylee. We did some walking down in DC, but it was always crowded.” Michael repressed his shudder at the memory. Those walks around the National Mall were supposed to be healthy and relaxing, but they’d left him with frayed nerves and a pounding migraine every time.
“I know every inch of the island,” Josh said confidently. “I can show you the best quiet trails for whatever time of year. The general rule for avoiding mainlanders and college kids is south during the summer, if you keep away from the bars, and north during the winter.”
Again, he was calling them kids. Michael wanted to ask how old Josh was, but he didn’t want to pry. “Easy enough.”
“I, uh, assume you’re set for a place to live?” Josh asked.
“For now. My family has a summer house. They redid the barn, so I’ve got my own place.”
Josh snorted and took a quick drink that didn’t hide his laugh.
“What?” Grinning, Michael extracted one foot from under Kaylee’s head so he could kick at Josh’s shin, though he was careful to keep it gentle. “It�
��s a loft apartment. It’s not like it’s still a barn-barn.”
“Oh, sure. Wreck my mental image of you and Kaylee curled up on a bed of hay.”
“I have a perfectly good bed,” Michael protested before he could stop himself. It was way too early to be discussing beds, wasn’t it?
Smirking, Josh said, “I’m sure Kaylee appreciates it.”
Michael rolled his eyes and kicked Josh again. “She does. She’s very spoiled.” It was also too early for Michael to mention that she helped him settle after nightmares. Time to change the subject. “You’ve lived here all your life?”
“Yeah. Well, I was born in Boston, I guess, but the adoption went through when I was a couple days old, so . . .” Josh shrugged, running a finger up and down the side of his glass. Then he grinned, adding, “Dad’s from Brooklyn. He’s got delis on both sides of the family, so Bagel End was sort of inevitable.”
“That explains why your bagels are so good,” Michael said, nodding. A couple of times on deployment, he’d had New York bagels that had been donated to the troops. Even after being packed in dry ice and shipped halfway around the world, they’d been delicious.
“I told you, it’s genetic,” Josh said proudly. “Anyway, Mom lived in Portsmouth, but she always loved it here. She and Dad met when she went to NYU for business, and then they moved up here to open the shop.”
A family business that didn’t involve power grabs and political machinations? Michael was enchanted. “Does your mom—”
“No.” Josh’s smile vanished, and he glanced down at the rings of condensation on the table. “She died when I was still young.”
Shit, shit, shit. Michael scrambled to find a way to change the subject, but his mind had gone blank. All he could think of were random facts about his own parents—an offering, like for like—but that was the last place he wanted to go. And he was ten years out of practice for smoothly handling socially awkward situations, something not exactly needed since he’d run from the political fishbowl of his youth.
“Hey.” A cold touch on Michael’s hand startled him out of his building panic. Josh smiled across the table at him and shrugged. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”
“I’m sorry,” Michael said, though it was too late.
“It’s okay,” Josh repeated. He drew his hand back and picked up his Coke. “How about you? What’s your family like?”
A nightmare. Michael shook his head, seizing on the one bright spot in his family tree. “My sister’s great. Amanda. She’s working for a charity in Concord.”
“That’s good.” Josh’s smile looked a little strained. Had Michael scrambled his words again? “And she’s not too far away, so you can see her whenever you want.”
Michael let out a breath. “She’s traveling soon.” He nearly mentioned Amanda’s plans for a yearlong overseas tour before realizing it was very possible Josh had never left the Northeast. How much money did a bagel shop make in a year?
Josh hummed thoughtfully and darted a glance Michael’s way. “But you’re staying, right?” he asked with an air of false casualness.
“Absolutely. I’ve always loved it here. This was . . .” There was a boy, he thought, remembering the summer when he was fifteen, when he met a boy at the beach and they climbed out onto the breakwater, going all the way to the end. His first real kiss—“real” as in not with a girl, not done because it was expected or because all his classmates were kissing girls—had been a thrill of feeling right and a black pit of terror at the thought of his father catching them.
“This was . . .?” Josh prompted.
Michael laughed and shook his head. “There was someone. Good memories. I mean, not someone I’ll ever see again,” he added quickly. The last thing he needed was Josh thinking this was a temporary measure until he could track down some long-lost love. “It’s just . . . It’s a good place, you know? I’ve always liked it here.”
Josh’s smile went soft. “Yeah. It’s great here. Despite the mainlanders, tourists, and winter students.”
Michael nudged him under the table. “Don’t those tourists and students keep you in business?” he teased.
“Well, yeah.” Josh leaned in, lowering his voice, eyes sparkling with amusement. “But if you’re really going to be a local, you’ll have to learn to love them in public and hate them in private. The traffic, the garbage, the noise, the crowd—”
A sudden, loud crack cut into Josh’s words. Ceramic shattering. Glass shattering.
The windshield.
Adrenaline slammed into Michael’s veins, sending electricity searing through his chest, leaving his fingers tingling. A voice was shouting, high-pitched and strained. He was shifting, just starting to duck, when a warm, soft, heavy body pushed against his legs and a cold nose nudged his arm.
“Kaylee.” The name came out as a gasp. He blinked. Felt the padded booth under his legs, behind his back. Banged into the table when he tried to stand. Restaurant.
He had to get out. He could do that. He just had to leave money, or someone would stop him.
Wallet in hand. Cash on the table. Leash wrapped around his fist. Bag over his shoulder.
“Exit,” he said, and followed the tug of Kaylee’s leash as she started to move. Glass reflected sunlight into his eyes, making him flinch and hunch his shoulders. He grabbed a silver bar and pulled, then pushed. When the glass gave way, he staggered through.
Another shout behind him made him run, following Kaylee to a big black vehicle. He had keys in his hand—where had they come from?—and the door opened when he tugged the handle. Kaylee leaped in and scrambled over to the far side, leaving room for him behind the wheel.
Movement caught his eye. Someone rushing through the glass door, making it sparkle, momentarily blinding him. Go! a voice shouted in the back of his head, and the ignition screeched under the force of his turning key. He threw the vehicle into reverse and roared out onto the street, shifted gears, and tore away from the threat, heading for safety.
Josh stumbled to a halt on the sidewalk, staring after Michael’s SUV, heart a lead weight in his chest. He’d barely had time to call Michael’s name, much less try to call him back.
“What the hell?” Josh muttered, turning to go back inside because he didn’t know what else to do.
“Everything okay, Josh?” Betty asked worriedly from where she was cleaning up the plates she’d dropped.
“Yeah.” The lie came automatically. Josh had no idea what had happened, but it was nobody’s business but Michael’s. If he wanted to give Josh any details . . . Well, hopefully he would, and Josh would listen and try his hardest to be understanding.
Understanding of what? Betty had tripped and sent their lunch plates crashing to the floor. Yeah, it had been loud and startling, but that sort of thing happened in restaurants all the time.
But Michael had gone white, almost ashen. He’d stopped listening to Josh. Hadn’t reacted at all to Josh saying his name. And then he and Kaylee were up, and he’d dumped all the bills in his wallet onto the table.
Josh went past Betty, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate his offering to help clean up in her restaurant any more than he’d want her help in his, and returned to the table to see how much more he owed for lunch.
A five, two ones, a ten, four twenties . . . a hundred? Shit. Michael couldn’t have been paying attention. Rich mainlander or not, he couldn’t have intended to pay almost two hundred bucks for running out on lunch, right? He probably hadn’t even known what he was doing. He’d been bumping into tables, and the door had completely stumped him. Josh gathered up the money, folded it, and tucked it into the pocket opposite his wallet. He’d pay out of his own pocket and give back all of Michael’s cash.
Without the question of money to distract him, his thoughts turned back to the disastrous, unexpected end of this date. He’d had some pretty bad dates—a big reason he was still single—but this one was . . . Well, he’d never had someone run out on him like that.
He p
icked up his Coke and took a long drink, swallowing too fast. He coughed and had to put the glass down before he spilled it. The momentary tightness in his throat cleared the fog in his head.
And he realized Michael’s abrupt departure had nothing to do with him.
Michael had been terrified. Just seconds after those plates hit the floor, he’d run out of the diner as if dinosaurs were chasing him. Everything he’d done, from grabbing his bag to “paying” the bill, had looked automatic, not controlled and thought out.
Fear of loud noises. Word replacement and misspeaking. His little stumble at the park when he’d tried to stand up. The way he sat with his back to a wall, where he could see everything around him. The way he’d told Kaylee, “Exit,” and she’d all but dragged him straight to the door, like she’d been trained to find her way out of any room or building.
Was it all connected?
More to the point, did Josh want to deal with all that? He liked Michael a lot, but this was . . . also a lot to think about. Maybe it would’ve been easier to deal with if Michael had said something, but they were practically strangers. They’d only met a few days ago.
He needed more information. And while before he wouldn’t have invaded Michael’s privacy, now he needed to know something.
He was just taking out his phone when Betty came over and put down another Coke, saying, “I’m real sorry, Josh. Did you still want your burger?”
If this were a movie, Josh would be too caught up in the moment of drama to even think about food. But he’d been working since before sunrise and on his feet for hours, and the only food he’d eaten was sporadic bites between customers at breakfast.
“Please. And a milk shake,” he told her, summoning a quick, fake smile.
She patted his shoulder and asked, more gently, “Is it just going to be you, hon?”
He nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “Yeah. I guess so.”
She gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll get that milk shake right out to you.”
Change of Address Page 11
