“It’s nice of him to help out while Josh’s leg heals,” she said, thinking that was an honest and yet noninflammatory thing to say.
Katie scowled. “Yeah, yeah. He’s a great big brother. But what did you think of him?”
Since the blush was giving her away anyway, Paige leaned down and lowered her voice. “I thought, Oh. My. God.”
They were both laughing when the bell over the door rang and Paige looked up. Straight into those blue eyes. Crap. Even though he couldn’t possibly know what she and Katie were laughing about, she turned her back so he couldn’t see her blush.
Thankfully, Carl barked her name to let her know she had an order up, and she had a moment to compose herself while delivering food. And then she had time to refill coffees and start a fresh pot, because half the people in the place had to say a few words to Mitch as they made their way to an open table. She heard him make a comment about Josh’s leg and they were finally left alone long enough to sit down.
“Morning, Paige,” Josh said as he worked to get his cast tucked under the table and out of the way.
“Morning.” She had a brief respite while Mitch went to stick the crutches in the corner with the coat hooks and umbrella rack, but then he was sliding into the booth and smiling up at her.
She had no idea why it knocked the breath out of her. His smile wasn’t so different from Josh’s. Their eyes were the same blue and they were built a lot alike. But Josh’s flirtation had done nothing for her and they’d settled into an easy friendship once he figured out she wasn’t going to go out with him. But all Mitch had to do was smile and she went all mushy inside.
Is that the way her mother always felt?
Just that one stray thought about her mother was enough to firm up the mushy spots, and she was able to respond to Mitch’s greeting with a bland, professional smile. “You both want coffee this morning?”
They nodded and she left to deliver the food Carl was putting in the window and do some quick refills before she carried two fresh mugs to the Kowalski brothers.
“You know what you want?” she asked, sliding her order pad out of her apron pocket.
“Mitch does,” Josh said, and he smirked at his brother in such a way that Paige was pretty sure she was missing an inside joke. Then he scowled and reached under the table, and she wondered if Mitch had kicked him. Hopefully not in the broken leg, if he had.
“I’m starving.” Mitch looked down at the menu. “I’ll have two eggs over-easy and three pancakes, with a side of hash. Oh, and home fries. With a large orange juice, please.”
“That sounds good,” Josh said. “Ditto.”
She took their menus and tried not to feel too self-conscious as she walked away, even though she suspected Mitch might be watching her, if last night was anything to go by. Then again—knowing him, if only by reputation—he might have turned his attention to any one of the other women in the diner.
After pinning their order up in the carousel hung in the pass-through window to the kitchen, Paige made her rounds, checking on customers and refilling coffees and handing out change at the cash register. Every so often she’d catch herself glancing toward the table where the Kowalski brothers sat.
They weren’t doing a lot of talking, other than to the people who occasionally stopped by their table, probably to welcome Mitch home or ask after Josh’s leg. Left to themselves, though, they didn’t seem to have a lot to say, and she wondered if Mitch’s long absences were at the root, or if there was something more specific going on.
When she brought their food to them, they both thanked her, but she didn’t get so much as a smile from Mitch, which was probably for the best. She’d already been far too distracted by him and, as the piece of paper taped to her refrigerator door at home said, men were a luxury and not a necessity.
It had been her new motto in life since the day a lawyer had contacted her to tell her a man she barely remembered had left her a nice bit of money when he died and, as long as she remembered that motto, she’d be just fine.
* * *
The combination of too much feeling sorry for himself and pain meds took a toll on Josh, so, after breakfast, Mitch drove him back to the lodge. After handing him over to Rosie’s care, Mitch turned around and drove back into town.
Breakfast had been a total bust. His brother had responded to everything he said with a grunt or one or two words, and Mitch didn’t think the diner was the place to shake the crap out of him and demand to know what the hell his problem was. There was time enough for that.
After finding a parking space, Mitch grimaced as he walked through the front door of the Whitford Police Department. Not necessarily because it brought back some of the less fun memories of his youth, but because the first desk he saw was occupied by Officer Robert Durgin.
Bob was older than dirt and blessed with a perfect memory when it came to the population’s youthful indiscretions, especially anything involving the Kowalskis. Ryan had busted his window (accidentally), Liz had broken his grandson’s heart (in as nice a way possible) and Mitch had caused Bob to wreck the department’s shiny new cruiser he’d been so proud of (though it wasn’t Mitch’s fault he was a better driver). Josh and Sean had had their share of run-ins with Bob, too, and the fact they’d all been teenagers at the time didn’t seem to count for much.
Mitch forced himself to smile and nod as he walked by, but Bob just kept staring at him as though he was expecting Mitch to grab the petty-cash box and make a run for it. The old cop was just one of the many reasons that, no matter how glad he was to see Josh and Rosie and a few others, being in Whitford started to chafe after a few days.
People always seemed to think a place where everybody knew your name was a good thing. Maybe it was. But they also knew every damn thing you’d ever done wrong, even stuff you couldn’t remember yourself, thanks to moms sitting around talking about their babies and toddlers. Hell, the first thing the teacher said to him on his first day of school was, “I hope your aim’s gotten better or the janitor’s going to lock you out of the bathroom.”
Everything from potty-training mishaps to late-night teenage joyrides were fair game in a town like Whitford, and that’s why, no matter how happy he was to be back in his hometown, he was always happier when it was time to leave. In this town, Mitch Kowalski wasn’t the man behind one of the most successful controlled-demolition firms in the country. Hell, maybe even in the world. Here he was just one of those damn Kowalski kids.
Through the big window in his office, Police Chief Drew Miller saw him coming and waved him in. Mitch grinned as he closed the door behind him, meeting his best friend halfway for a handshake that become a quick man-hug.
“It’s damn good to see you,” Drew said as he sank back into his fancy leather chair.
Mitch tried to make himself comfortable on the hard, wooden chair on the other side of the desk. “Chief, huh? What the hell were they thinking?”
“They were thinking you’d come back eventually, so they’d better have somebody in charge who can keep your sorry ass in line.”
Mitch snorted. “You know what pisses me off? Old Bob’s out there glaring at me like I’m a pillager come to plunder his doughnut box, but they made you chief of police. You were in the car that night, too.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t driving. I told him I was a helpless passenger who was too afraid to jump out, but kept screaming at you to stop the car.”
“You’re so full of shit.”
“Maybe, but Whitford trusts me with their doughnuts, my friend.”
Mitch shook his head. When he’d opened the email from Drew a few months back with the subject line “You won’t believe this shit,” he’d had to agree. It was hard to believe his old friend, who’d been riding shotgun on more than a few Kowalski capers, had been promoted to chief of the Whitford Police Department.
Hell, the night old Bob had wrecked the new cruiser, it had been Drew who goaded him into running rather than stopping when the lights started
flashing in the rearview mirror of his old Camaro. Mitch was used to flying down the maze of dirt roads surrounding the town and Bob wasn’t, so when Mitch turned off his lights and trusted the moon and his instincts to guide him, he’d easily given the officer the slip. Bob Durgin, however, was determined to catch Mitch in the act that time and ended up sliding into a ditch and rolling the cruiser onto its roof.
Luckily, Officer Durgin was too honest for his own good and, when questioned by the chief, he’d admitted he’d never gotten close enough to read the license plate. Since there were two other Camaros in town close enough to Mitch’s to be easily mistaken for it in the dark, no charges had been pressed. Bob had never forgiven him, though, and he’d dogged Mitch’s footsteps until the day he’d gone off to college. And Mitch had no doubt the man was just waiting for him to screw up now.
“How’s Josh?” Drew asked, dragging Mitch out of the past.
“His leg’s not bad, but his attitude about it sucks. His attitude about everything sucks right now, actually, and I can’t figure out why. And he’s not taking care of the lodge worth a damn.”
“How long you staying?”
“The six weeks he’s supposed to have his cast on. Rosie told me things have been getting pretty tight, so hopefully that’ll be long enough to not only get my brother back on his feet, but have a look at the books, too.”
Drew leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his desk. “You think he’s skimming?”
“Down, cop. No, I think business has been going to shit and he didn’t want to tell anybody he’s hanging on by his fingernails.”
“Everybody’s taking a hit financially. We’ve seen an increase in thefts, for sure. People stealing small shit they can sell easily. And metals. Catalytic converters. Copper piping. You name it, people are stealing it.”
“That sucks. So, tell me about Paige Sullivan.”
Drew didn’t even blink at the abrupt subject change. Just smiled and leaned back in his chair again. “She’s a tough nut. Not sure even you can crack that one.”
“What’s her story?”
“Was driving through town and her car broke down. Ended up staying and buying the old diner.”
Mitch snorted. “I know that much. What I don’t know is why she doesn’t date.”
“Interrogating the women in town about their sex lives is beyond the scope of my job description. Maybe she was a nun before she moved here.”
“If a woman was a nun and then stopped being a nun, wouldn’t she want to do some catching up, so to speak?”
Drew shook his head. “I’m not going to risk burning in hell to answer that.”
“I’m not talking about a nun having sex, moron. A post-nun.”
“I’m pretty sure Paige was never a nun, so let’s move on just in case.”
“I’m going to be in town six weeks. Might be nice to have some company.”
Drew shrugged. “I’m sure you won’t have any trouble finding a woman. Hell, you can walk into any place in town and half the women in the room will swoon, for chrissake.”
“I don’t want swooning women.”
“Good luck with that, man. Half the women in this town have had you and want you again, and the other half want to know what the fuss is about.”
“Not getting a swooning vibe from Paige.”
“Good for her. Be good for you to be told no. Builds character.”
Mitch grinned. “She’ll say yes. And, speaking of women, how’s Mallory?”
Drew’s mouth flattened out at the mention of his wife. “You’d have to ask her, since she’s currently not speaking to me.”
“Cold in the doghouse?” Mitch smiled. “It’s good to fight once in a while. Can’t have makeup sex if you’ve got nothing to make up for.”
“I don’t think there’s going to be makeup sex. I think there are going to be lawyers and a For Sale sign on the front lawn.”
Mitch dropped the smile and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Drew. Are you sure? Have you tried…something…counseling or anything?”
“We’ve talked it through so many times we’ve run out of words. I don’t think counseling will help.” Drew walked over to his personal single-cup coffee brewer, which was probably a perk of the office, and brewed them each a mug.
Mitch waited while his friend made the coffee, thinking he was probably deciding what he did and didn’t want to say, and how to say it. Drew and Mal had been high school sweethearts, but they’d gone their separate ways when it came time for college. They’d both ended up back in Whitford, though, and they’d just had their ten-year anniversary.
“Mal doesn’t want kids,” Drew finally said, after he’d set their mugs on the desk and sat back down.
“Right now?”
“Ever.”
“Wow.” Mitch didn’t know what else to say. Drew and Mallory had always talked about having kids…someday.
“It was always not yet and not right now and someday. I told her someday had come, and she said the only someday that had come was the someday she was going to tell me she didn’t want to have kids.”
“You guys were together all through high school and you’ve been married ten years. How can you not have had this conversation before? I mean, it doesn’t even make sense. I remember you guys talking about kids. She wanted a daughter named…something. Hell. It was a flower.”
“Daisy.” Drew snorted. “She was afraid I wouldn’t marry her if I knew, so she said what she thought I wanted to hear and then just kept on saying it. Now I’m heading toward forty and I’ve got no kids and I may not even have a wife anymore.”
“I’m sorry, man. Why did she decide to tell you the truth now?”
“Because I told her it was time. Neither of us are getting any younger, her pregnancies would be higher risk and I didn’t want to need a walker to get to my seat at the kid’s graduation. Over the years I brought it up more and more often, but I finally told her I didn’t want to put it off anymore. I want a baby. She doesn’t want a baby. We haven’t talked since.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Five weeks.”
“Jesus, you and Mal haven’t spoken to each other in five weeks? I thought you said you guys had talked about it so much you ran out of words.”
“That was in the months—hell, years—leading up to five weeks ago.”
“Are you still living together?”
Drew nodded. “She got pissed off and went to sleep in the guest room. Since we haven’t spoken, she hasn’t come back.”
Mitch couldn’t even wrap his head around it. “You mean you haven’t talked about kids.”
“No, we haven’t spoken at all. At first it was awkward and uncomfortable, but now…it’s just our new normal, I guess.”
“That’s messed up.” Maybe Mitch had never been married, but he knew enough about healthy relationships to recognize an unhealthy one. “Maybe you should rethink the therapy.”
“When I brought it up, she said suggesting therapy was like saying there was something wrong with her for not wanting to be a mother. It went downhill from there.”
“How long are you going to keep on not talking to each other?”
“I don’t know. There are only two possible outcomes—divorce or I tell her it’s all right if we never have kids. And I’m not okay with either one.” Drew gulped down some of his coffee. “Jesus, listen to me. You didn’t stop in to hear me whine about my problems. Sounds like you’ve enough of your own to deal with.”
“Trying to get into Paige’s pants is nothing like you maybe losing Mallory.”
“I meant the lodge and Josh, actually, but a hundred bucks says you won’t have any better luck with Paige than I am with Mal.”
Mitch laughed. “If I was an asshole, I’d take you up on that. Wouldn’t mind your hundred in my pocket. But I never bet on a lady. They always find out, sooner or later.”
“Like you’re ever still around for the later.”
“One of these day
s, I’m going to surprise everybody and stick with one woman forever.”
Drew smiled, but Mitch could see the sadness around his eyes. “Just make sure you both want the same thing in life, because it hurts like hell when you find out years into it that you don’t.”
While he hadn’t been as many years into the relationship as Drew had, Mitch had already learned that lesson the hard, messy way. A man and a woman wanting two different things ended up in two different places, as a rule, which could only lead to misery.
He was a lot better off when he and a woman wanted the same thing—orgasms not of the do-it-yourself variety. Maybe only one or maybe quite a few, but then they went their separate ways with no hard feelings. With the exception of that one doomed relationship, it was a plan that had served him well and he hadn’t yet found a second woman worth detouring for.
Chapter Three
By two o’clock the following day, when Ava showed up to take over until closing time, Paige was exhausted. She even thought about going home and taking a nap, which was something she rarely did, but that would only make it harder to sleep at bedtime, and that four-thirty alarm wasn’t very forgiving.
Instead, she stopped by her trailer and grabbed her library tote bag, since she’d finished the last book three days before and, tired or not, she was getting itchy for more books. The weather was nice—not too hot and no humidity—so she walked to the library, exchanging waves with others as she went.
She still found it exhilarating, the way the town’s people made her feel as if she was one of their own. They called to her by name and asked her how business was going, and she’d ask after their kids or an aging parent. It was what she’d been looking for her entire life—that sense of belonging—and she’d finally found it in Whitford.
Dragged around from place to place growing up, Paige had always been the new kid in school. There had always been a new man of the house, some who became stepfathers and more who didn’t. And she’d done it a few times herself. More than once, she’d given up who she wanted to be in order to be what a man wanted her to be.
All He Ever Needed Page 3
