Stay With Me (43 page)

Linny winked at us as we walked past the counter and Becca patted the surface loudly as she passed. “Hey, Mr. Ryan,” she called out.

I saw him shake his head, not even looking up from the food he was preparing as he grumbled something to himself.

“Got shrimp today?” she continued, and I had to smile in spite of myself. She didn’t care that he didn’t like her. She didn’t even know why. She just enjoyed the hell out of goading him.

“Have a seat or move on,” he said, his gravelly voice monotone and lacking the bite it usually had. “Mind your manners.”

“Oh, her manners are just fine,” Linny tossed back over her shoulder at him. “She just knows ornery when she sees it.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes at me knowingly. “Did you have a call-in, hon?”

That would have been a grand idea. “No, we’re—” I gestured toward some empty tables. “Sitting.” I was most definitely not interested in landing at the counter and getting scowled at. I looked for one by the windows but those were all occupied.

I saw Hayden at one, head bent over a stack of paper with a pretty woman in a suit. A working lunch. Or maybe the prelude to something else? He didn’t see us, so I didn’t do any jumping up and down to call attention.

“This is good,” Becca said, picking a four-seater and dumping her backpack in an extra chair.

Closer to Johnny Mack than I liked, but then again, I needed to get over it. Normally I was able to mostly ignore him. It had been twenty-six years. Over two decades, living in the same town, working next door to each other, and putting up with his temper tantrums. I didn’t normally feel such a strong urge to get away. Maybe it was the dream, still messing with me; maybe I was being hormonal. Whatever it was, it had the little hairs on the back of my neck going stiff.

“Ugh,” I muttered, rubbing at my neck and my arms.

“What?” Becca said, looking up from the plastic menu.

I shook my head. “Nothing, baby. I’m just wiggy today.”

“You’re wiggy every day,” she said, perusing her choices like it was her last meal. “Last time I got the fried shrimp po’boy sandwich and it was to die for.”

I plucked a menu from its resting place between the napkin holder and the condiments, not really needing it but looking anyway. I sighed at the red napkins in the holder next to the salt and pepper shakers. Linny already had it going on. Ruthie would be redding up the store soon, too. Frosted glass wasn’t going to satisfy her. “I usually get the plate lunch. I think today is open-faced turkey with mashed potatoes.”

“That sounds so boring.”

“Not the way he makes it,” I said. “It’s amazing.”

“Thought you hated him.” She said the sentence in a completely disinterested tone, as if she were talking about the sky being blue.

I looked up at her. “I don’t hate him. We just—”

“Don’t see eye to eye,” she said, nodding, looking bored. “I know. Can we get dessert?”

“No dessert with lunch, Bec, you know that,” I said. “That fried shrimp you’re having is bad enough, you’ll never stay awake through class.”

She was blowing out a sound of disgust before I even finished the sentence.

“Sorry,” I said. “Have some yogurt tonight.”

“Yogurt,” she muttered. “Can we have real ice cream for once?”

I let it go. She was in a mood, and nothing I was going to say would make her happy, so I decided to keep the peace. Let her dad over there duke out every single battle. I chose mine. It was better for my sanity.

She bit her bottom lip for a second and closed her menu, which caught my attention.

“Something the matter, Bec?” I asked, closing mine too.

I could see the gears working. There was a question percolating somewhere. She wanted something, or needed something, or had a world-shattering revelation to tell me. I didn’t like those.

“Hey, ladies.”

I turned at the familiar voice and fought the mixture of joy and annoyance. Especially when I saw Becca roll her darkly lined eyes. So much for an almost-moment.

“Hi, Patrick,” I said, patting the hand he’d rested on my shoulder. Possessively, I thought. I patted it again to give him the hint to let go. My skin was jumpy enough without someone holding me down. “I thought you were working that site in Torrence?”

“It’s delayed a few days, for permits and shit.” He stopped short and glanced at Becca, touching her shoulder. “Sorry—stuff.”

She glanced up at him hulking over our table, looking hot in a scruffy motorcycle gang kind of way, and smiled tolerance before widening her eyes back to the menu she’d reopened. She’d met Patrick twice before. Once at the bookstore, where he was so painfully out of place he practically glowed. And then one awkward moment at our house, when Becca came home early from a night out with friends and we were walking down the stairs looking like we’d forgotten how to dress ourselves.

I nodded, and I couldn’t help darting a glance over to Hayden’s table, hoping he hadn’t caught sight of us. Not that he cared, since we’d been divorced for almost seven years, but he was one to make comments that weren’t supposed to mean anything and yet usually left marks. He was still deep in conversation with the woman over whatever was on the papers.

“So, maybe we can grab a bite to eat or something tonight?” he said, squeezing my shoulder again. “Or tomorrow?”

I knew exactly what that “or something” was, and as I let my memory travel the planes of his body built from years of site construction labor, my stomach tingled.

“Tonight’s not good,” Becca said, replacing the menu. “I have a test to study for. I’ll see if I can find something to do to be scarce tomorrow.”

Even smooth-talking Patrick looked lost for words, and I felt the heat whoosh up to the top of my head.

“I’ll call you,” he said quickly. “Y’all have a good lunch.”

I stared at her as he grabbed a to-go bag and bolted out of the diner.

“Becca, that was—” I began.

“Awkward?” she finished, nodding with a sarcastic smile. “You have no idea.”

I rubbed at my face, wondering if I just needed to go home for the day. “What happened to
doing nothing
? And since when do you study for anything?”

“Since maybe I want to watch TV without hearing my mom bang Mr. Hardbody down the hall.”

“Becca!”

It was loud. It was too loud, and drew the eyes of everyone in the place, including Hayden’s. But never in my life had I been so mortified.

“Sorry, just sayin’,” she said, at least having the decency to color up, herself.

“Sweethearts, how’s it going?” Linny said then, appearing at our table with a smile and a wink and a significant girth pushing at her apron. “Everything okay?” she added in a quieter voice.

“It’s good,” I said, maintaining the glare at my daughter. “Becca just forgot her mouth for a second.”

Becca’s eyes landed everywhere but on me, and then she smiled up at Linny. “I want a Coke with lots of ice, and the shrimp po’boy. With fries,” she added, not looking my way.

“Got it,” Linny said, not writing a thing down, just winking at her. She looked at me. “And you?”

“I’ll do the plate lunch. And hey, Linny?” I added, as she nodded and started to walk away. “Please tell your dad to quit banging on the wall. I swear to you on all that is holy that there is no music playing over there,” I said with a smile.

Linny laughed and wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ve told him again and again that I don’t hear anything, but he ignores me.” She nudged me with a finger. “But check him out today. He’s almost giddy.”

We both turned to see Johnny Mack grinning at a customer, and the feeling I’d had at two that morning settled over me like a chilled blanket, making me shiver again.

Why was he happy? And why did that make me feel like a caged animal? I had a bad feeling that this particular crazy was going to have to be held close to the vest. Maw Maw was right. No one was going to want to see this shit.

Excerpt from
Just One Day

Keep reading for a short excerpt

from the nationally bestselling novella

Just One Day

She has nothing but time . . .

Twenty-four hours. That’s how long Andie Fremont has to say yes—or no. At forty-four with a daughter in college, she’s no young kitten with starry-eyed ideas of what love is. Still, when the man who is everything she should want pops the question with a ring he knows isn’t her style, during a party she didn’t want to have, Andie balks. Something tells her that it isn’t right.

Looking to clear her head, Andie hits the Texas highway in search of an answer. And when she stumbles upon an old roadside diner she decides waffles might be it, at least for now. What she didn’t expect to find was Jesse Montgomery. The man who stole her heart and broke it all in one day, two decades earlier.

As a Texas-size storm takes shape outside, the electricity between Andie and Jesse builds inside. Suddenly Andie is faced with more than just yes or no. As the storm clears there are two men who will want answers.

Chapter One

My face was sore. Like maybe I should have done facial stretches beforehand. Then again, I had no inkling that the night would be so—social. I’d sort of expected something a little more intimate for our special evening. Like—dinner for two. Still, I had an open mind, and Brad was nothing if not innovative.

I smiled again as I nodded and shook another hand, hugged another of Brad’s bank colleagues, wondering how many of them really remembered me. I wasn’t the typical arm candy.

“Andie, you’ve got yourself quite a guy here,” a gorgeous brunette woman said, as she gave Brad a sideways hug, pressing her very exposed cleavage against him. Her hair was done up in a chignon I could never pull off, although I’d tried. Mine looked more like a messy cluster, and I just hoped that appeared intentional.

I struggled with her name—Marcia? Marissa? Oh, how I wished for the stick-on name tags of Brad’s usual company parties. But this wasn’t supposed to be a company party. It was our party, and cleavage queen had the unfair advantage of a giant banner sporting mine and Brad’s names.

“Oh, don’t I know it,” I said, smiling equally as coyly, trying to play the game and blend. I would have loved to press my boobs against him, too, but I was afraid the movement would knock them out of the dress I was wearing. Instead, I pulled his hand to my lips and planted a kiss on his knuckles. “He’s the best.”

Marcia-Marissa laughed, a sexy husky sound that drew four appreciative sets of male eyes to her. And those were just the ones I noticed.

Brad didn’t appear to be moved by her, however; which either meant he was a really good bluffer or overly smitten with me. Either way, he responded with a soft kiss on my lips that I chose to signify the latter.

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Marcia-Marissa cooed, laying a hand against Brad’s arm as she extracted herself. “You’d never peg this guy as cutthroat, seeing him with you tonight,” she said, laughing again.

Brad snagged a passing drink, and handed it off to her. “Nope, no business talk,” he said. “It’s all about me and Andie tonight.”

As we smiled at each other, my first thought was,
Then why invite the office?

“Bradley, you’ve outdone yourself,” boomed a voice from behind me.

We turned and were greeted by the toothy grin of his best friend, Martin. He slapped Brad on the back and kissed my cheek. I got the feeling, as usual, that his aim would have been more centrally directed if I didn’t turn.

“Martin,” I said. “Where’s Alicia?”

He turned for a cursory look around for his wife. “Somewhere,” he said with a wink. “At least I think that’s who I came with.”

He laughed as if that were hysterically funny, and Brad shook his head as he laughed with him.

“She might not want to go home with you if she hears you talking like that, big guy,” Brad said.