by Marina Adair
She decided to quickly freshen up before heading back to the kitchen. She’d wash her face, comb her hair, and readjust her ponytail. Go as far as to change her khaki shirt, which showed several small stains. She’d splattered coffee earlier. The triplets had hugged her around the waist with sticky syrupy hands. They’d left small fingerprints.
She slipped her key from her pant pocket. Unlocked the door. Entered. She unzipped her slacks, untucked her uniform top. Then gripped the hem and drew it up and over her head. She tossed the shirt into her wicker laundry basket.
The doorknob to the bathroom twisted easily. She stepped inside in her white sports bra and unzipped slacks and inhaled steam so thick and humid it felt like a sauna. She gasped for air.
It was apparent Jake had taken a hot shower. The air was scented with amber and musk. Enticingly male. She spotted him when he turned away from the sink and cut her a look, sharp with surprise. He was a heart-stopper. He stood nearly nude. A knotted towel hung low on his hip bones. The gap near his groin was shadowed. Neither managed a word. Silence held between them. Engulfing and immodest.
She dared to stare. His masculinity merged with the mist. Her gaze flicked over his damp hair, hard face, and thick-muscled chest. Alpha and carnal. All slickened sexiness and raw strength. His legs were long and strong. His feet big and bare.
A sigh escaped, low and throaty. She sagged against the doorframe. A dead giveaway that she liked what she saw—a little too much. She was so into him that she twitched when he said, “Are you flashing me, Hannah? Bra and pretty pink panties.”
“Not on purpose.” The split V of her zipper exposed her cotton undies. She hurriedly zipped up, grabbed a towel off a nearby rack, and covered her breasts. Her sister would’ve laughed at her modesty. Lauren considered sports bras public, unrestricted workout wear; Hannah felt exposed and vulnerable.
She was slow to explain. “Gram sent me to check on you. I knocked on your door, and when you didn’t answer, I thought that you’d already left. I felt it safe to clean up.”
“Instead you got hit with steam and me.”
That’s how it had gone down. She held up the flat of her hand in an attempt not to look at him. “Sorry to have bothered you.”
“You never bother me,” he told her. “Put your hand down. You’re peeking between your fingers.”
Busted! She lowered it. Steadied herself.
He pushed back his hair. The ends touched his shoulders. The majority of the mist had dissipated. He was full-on staring at her. Intense and hard. A muscle ticked in his cheek. “I’m glad we’re speaking again, Hannah. After last night and breakfast this morning, I wasn’t sure we would. You went all cold shoulder and quiet on me, woman. Care to explain?”
“Maybe we should get dressed first.”
“Naked conversations resolve issues quickly.”
A bare Jake Kaylor would be far too distracting. She’d lose herself in his big buff body. Wanting only to touch him rather than talk. He dimpled, aware of her dilemma.
“I’ll get dressed, you do whatever, and we’ll meet on the landing,” he suggested.
She nodded. “We’ll go downstairs together. Gram wants to fix you breakfast.”
“You’d rather go public than private with our conversation?” he asked.
“Eat first, talk second.”
“Doable. I’m hungry. I can live with that.”
They parted, did their own thing, then exited their apartments at the same moment. Both were cleaned up and recharged. Hannah was no longer sticky from syrupy fingerprints and Jake had escaped the smell of corned beef hash. From his black bandanna down to his biker boots, he was all male and disturbingly handsome. He gave her goose bumps.
“Outside stairs or cut through the kitchen?” he asked.
“Kitchen works fine. Gram is expecting you.”
“You’ll join me?”
“I’m on the clock.”
“We’ll stop time for thirty minutes.”
“We’ll see.”
“If you decide to serve and not sit with me, be warned that I’ll pull you onto my lap in the booth. Breakfast gossip.”
Idle threat? Doubtful. Jake was a man of action. Whispers had circulated earlier over their photo in the newspaper. There’d been enormous curiosity and speculation. All unfounded. Should he draw her across his thighs, rumors would spread in seconds flat. Her face heated.
Jake gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You look pretty in pink. The same color as your panties.”
He looked dark and dangerous in all black.
He reached for the sunglasses hooked to a belt loop, ready to put them on. She associated his aviators with the legend. She didn’t want a repeat vision. “Would you mind not wearing them just now?” she softly requested.
He agreed. “Sure, no problem.” He secured them atop his head. He followed her down the back staircase and into the storeroom. That’s where they found Nan bent in an attempt to lift and empty a fifty-pound sack of flour into a portable bin. She struggled.
Jake was there for her. “I’ve got it.” He upended the open bag in one fluid motion. Then stuffed the empty sack in a garbage can.
Nan released a breath. She touched him on the arm. “I think I’m strong, but my hands tell me differently. You saved me from spilling flour all over the floor.”
“He saved me earlier too,” Hannah reminded her grandmother. “Had he not steadied my tray, all those around us would’ve worn breakfast food. Not just Jake.”
“We thank you,” Nan said. “Now let me place your orders. Hannah likes blueberry pancakes. Is there anything you don’t like, Jake?”
“Corned beef hash.” He and Hannah spoke as one. They smiled at each other.
“Grab a booth,” Nan indicated. “I’ll have Dolores deliver your food.”
Dolores was a second cousin on Hannah’s mother’s side. She’d worked at the Corner Café for as long as Hannah could remember. She’d mentored Hannah in the dining room. A plump woman who’d sampled every item on the menu and offered recommendations to indecisive customers.
“It’s Sunday. Busiest day of the week. You’re sure, Gram?”
Nan looked from Hannah to Jake. “Never been surer in my life.” She reached for the flour bin, only to have Jake give it the needed shove into the kitchen. He placed it near the prep table where Nan had laid out pie tins for her daily special. “Pumpkin,” she told them. “Requested by Moody and the major.”
He and Hannah left the kitchen then, Jake walking so close beside her, their bodies brushed. She liked the feel of him. Solid and strong. Several locals followed their progress to the small corner booth. A two-seater wedged behind a larger six-top. A tight fit for Jake. He couldn’t stretch out his long legs. His thighs splayed and he trapped her own tightly squeezed knees between his. His rough denim jeans rubbed against her cotton khakis. His heavy boots pressed her tennis shoes.
Hidden intimacy under the table. Bold and infrequent for her. He caught her eye across the table and winked. She gave him a small smile just as her sister approached, frowning, huffy, and confrontational.
Lauren hovered over their booth. “What’s the deal?” she demanded. “You should be preparing for the next church rush, not sitting on your butt.”
Jake calmly intervened. “Take your complaints to Nan. Your grandmother suggested we have breakfast together after the tray mishap.”
“Then grab a quick bite and get back to work,” Lauren hissed at Hannah. A very bossy hostess. “This booth is a favorite for couples.”
“We are a couple.” His response turned Lauren on her heel, and she stormed off.
Hannah nervously tucked her hair behind her ears. “A couple? Us?” Not possible. She was sure his comment was meant to tick off her sister, not hold any truth.
“We can be whatever we want to be,” he said. “Being a couple seated in this booth works for us now.”
Now . . . but for how long after their breakfast? How would he see them later
in the day? Tomorrow?
Take it slow, her gram had advised. Be persistent but patient. Don’t rush fate. The right man would surface. With love and good intentions.
Dolores soon brought mugs of coffee and glasses of orange juice to their table. She followed up with a tray laden with food and unloaded their dishes. “Blueberry pancakes for Hannah and the Mainers Platter for Jake. A sampler of nearly everything on the menu, minus the corned beef hash. Compliments of Nan.” She left them to their breakfasts.
Jake stared at all the food. “Your grandmother was generous. There’s enough here to feed three people. It all looks amazing.”
“Far better than a doily?” Hannah couldn’t believe she’d said that out loud. An untimely comment followed by inappropriate laughter. She couldn’t help herself. The moment hit her as funny. She’d warned Jake the previous evening that if she recalled something humorous she would laugh hysterically. The doily anecdote had stuck with her. She doubled over in amusement now.
Jake chuckled right along with her. “I can laugh at myself,” he told her. “But maybe not as long as you’re laughing at me.” He tapped his watch. “Minutes now, Hannah.”
She barely gained control. Heaving a breath, she bit down on her bottom lip and said, “I really lost it.”
“Nothing wrong with letting go,” he assured her. “I liked watching you laugh. Seems I have entertainment value.”
Hannah had laughed so hard she felt weak. Her stomach hurt. Breakfast awaited. She poured warm blueberry syrup on her wild blueberry pancakes. “Let’s eat.”
Jake went with maple syrup on his waffle.
Lauren appeared before they’d taken their first bites. “Keep it down over here,” she ground out. “You’re laughing like a hyena and disturbing the customers.”
Hannah eyed those seated around them. No one appeared upset or uptight. Not one person knew what had sparked her outburst, yet several folks grinned and shared in her amusement. “We’re not bothering anyone,” she finally said.
Her sister stiffened. “I’m bothered.”
Jake turned his gaze on Lauren. His tone was low and chill. “Hannah’s laughter is contagious, unlike your scowl.” He then forked a generous piece of waffle and popped it in his mouth. End of conversation.
Lauren’s nostrils flared. She left in a huff. Hannah watched her go. Her sister met arriving customers at the door with a toss of her hair and a pinched-lip welcome.
“Eat, Hannah,” Jake encouraged. “Don’t worry about Lauren.”
She complied. The pancakes were light and fluffy. Fresh wild blueberries teased her taste buds. She closed her eyes and chewed slowly. Swallowed and sighed.
“That good?” came from Jake.
“I’m savoring.”
“I take pleasure in you.”
No man had complimented her so. She warmed from the inside out. Her outlook bright. “I enjoy you too.”
“How can we experience each other further today?”
She took two more bites, then went on to suggest, “It’s nice outdoors. We could take an afternoon walk when I get off work. The park is pleasant.”
“A quiet place for us to talk?”
“Benches provide privacy. The only noise might come from the playground, if kids are there for fun. It can get loud. No indoor voices used. The kids shriek and shout each word.”
“It’s good to play at the top of your lungs.”
“I’ll want to clean up after my shift,” she told him.
“I won’t break in on you while you shower.”
“Both doors will be locked.”
“I’ve picked a lock or two.”
She believed him. “Front door, four o’clock, then?”
He nodded. “I’ll be the guy in the black leather jacket.”
“I’ll be the girl in the navy Moonbright sweatshirt.”
“I’d recognize you anywhere, babe.”
It was the nicest thing any man had ever said to her. “Thank you,” she softly replied.
One corner of his mouth tipped up. He understood her shyness and insecurity. “Welcome.”
A comfortable silence saw them through the remainder of their meal. Afterward Hannah was so full she wanted nothing more than to take a nap. Instead she faced the lunch rush. Three hours of hustle.
Jake took a last sip of his coffee, then stretched his arms along the sides of the booth. He breathed deeply. “I can’t believe I ate the entire Mainers Platter.”
“You deserved every bite after our earlier fiasco.”
“It’s time to move before the food fully settles and I can’t get up.” He pushed from the booth, added, “I’m headed upstairs to visit with Gramps and Moody while you work. Maybe even work out before we hook up.”
Hannah rose too. “Moonbright doesn’t have a gym.”
“I don’t need exercise equipment for crunches, push-ups, and jogging.”
Hannah had a mental flash of him getting physical. All sweaty muscles and heavy breathing. Her own breath hitched. She managed a, “See you later,” as she cleared their table for the next customers.
His good-bye wasn’t spoken, yet his touch meant more than words. He grazed his fingers down her arm, then squeezed her wrist. His slow grin left her expectant and excited about their walk in the park.
* * *
Jake spent an hour with the two older men, seated in the same chair as the previous evening, this time watching them play chess. Moody wore his bifocals. The play was intense. The conversation minimal. Words were only spoken between moves. Jake didn’t mind. He felt a sense of family just being there. In between comments he flipped through two fishing magazines and checked the emails on his iPhone. One message from his father indicated business was booming and slightly backed up. Jake’s brother was helping to pick up the slack. There’d been numerous inquiries as to when Jake would return to Bangor. He was in demand with an anxious clientele. Motorcycles didn’t fix themselves. Classic bike owners were particular about the mechanic. He had earned favor among the largest collectors.
Despite the requests, Hannah came first. She was his priority. He’d put all bike repairs on hold for a week or two.
Moments later, the major called, “Checkmate.” Moody’s king was under threat of capture with no legal move to prevent it. The game was over.
“I should’ve taken out your bishop two moves ago,” Moody complained.
“You went after my queen and missed your chance.”
The two men shook hands. “We’re celebrating my win with a piece of pie in the café this afternoon,” the major declared. “Strawberry-rhubarb with a scoop of French vanilla ice cream.”
Moody grumbled, “Guess I’m buying.”
“No guessing about it. I won. You lost. Grab your wallet, old man.”
Moody snorted. “Old man?”
“You’re older than me by ten days.”
Moody included Jake. “Join us, boy.”
“Thanks, but I already have plans.”
“Plans alone or with someone we know?” asked his gramps.
“Time with Hannah.”
“So we figured,” Moody said.
The major nodded. “No surprise there.”
Jake wasn’t afraid to admit, “I like her.”
“We know,” said by both men.
“How could you?” Jake was just coming to the realization himself.
His granddad explained, “Your expression is telling. Others have noticed too.”
His face gave him away? Perhaps only to those who knew him well. “Who, exactly? Name names.”
His gramps answered, “Anyone who’s seen your photo in the morning newspaper or observed you at breakfast with Hannah.”
“You’re both crazy.”
“You’re crazy for her,” Moody said.
“I’m just getting to really know her,” Jake reminded them. “I’ve been in town twenty-four hours. Cut me some slack.”
Moody eyed Jake through the magnifier on his glasses. “Se
ems longer than that given the way you look at her.”
The major agreed. “Love doesn’t tell time.”
Moody was philosophical. “One day or twenty years—the heart just knows.”
“A man should recognize his feelings and act accordingly,” Jake’s grandfather advised. “Don’t ignore the obvious.”
Jake let their advice soak in. The men were looking out for his best interests. Hannah was his interest. Their support meant everything. Still, he knew his own mind and refused to be rushed. “Friendship first. Whatever follows I’ll take in stride. Hannah’s not a race to the finish line.”
Moody snorted. “In stride, huh?”
“Keep a steady pace, son,” Jake’s granddad nudged. “Gregory Manor’s in town, single and partial to her.”
“That sounds like a warning,” Jake said.
“Merely a cautionary comment.”
Moody’s grin was sly. “Ever compete for a woman, boy?”
“No, never.”
“First time for everything.”
Jake exhaled. Moody was needling him. He refused to take the bait. He’d been fortunate with the ladies. They willingly chose him. Dates and short-term relationships came easy, no strings attached. But Greg and Hannah had a history. Jake hoped the attorney wouldn’t interfere with his own plans to date her. That was yet to be determined.
He pushed off the chair. Stretched. “I’m off. I want to exercise and take my bike for a ride. Cruise around town. Explore the outskirts.”
“Moonbright hasn’t changed much since your last visit,” the major said.
Moody counted, “It hasn’t changed in fifty years.”
The men waved him off with, “Have a good afternoon.”
Jake went to his apartment and exercised for sixty minutes. He took his third shower of the day. Then rode his Ducati for an hour. A part of him gravitated toward the familiar. Time had enhanced Moonbright’s appeal. The town remained genuine and quaint. Generations of families had walked the sidewalks. Grandchildren shopped the same stores as their grandparents. People waved as he passed by, smiling and friendly. One young boy raised his hands, curving them as if holding on to handlebars. Jake got the message and revved the engine for him. The boy pumped his arm.
