“Can you put them in a carry-out container? I don't have a ton of time.” And, she'd want to bring some of them home for later.
“No problem.” Angel walked into the kitchen, leaving Brenna with black coffee and a thought that she never would have even considered before.
Laurie and Byron?
She couldn't imagine Byron with anyone other than her grandmother. He and Alice had been a perfect team, but Alice had been gone for five years, and Byron was still young enough and healthy enough to want something more than to be alone.
Why hadn't she thought about that before?
Maybe because she'd been too caught up in the mini-drama that her life had become.
“Things change,” she muttered, taking a sip of her coffee.
“Except when they don't.” River dropped into the seat beside her, his legs encased in faded denim, his white long-sleeved shirt rolled up to the elbow. He hadn't shaved and black stubble shadowed his jaw.
God, he was sexy.
And handsome.
And every single thing Brenna needed to avoid.
“What's that supposed to mean?” she asked, and he gestured to the counter, the pictures on the wall, the old diner tables that had been there for as long as Brenna could remember.
“This place looks exactly the same.”
“Things like this should never change,” she responded, and he smiled, an easy gentle smile that made a tiny little seed sprout in her stomach.
She felt it thereânew and fragile.
It felt like....
Happiness?
Hope?
Excitement?
“You're a romantic, are you?” he asked.
“No, I'm practical. If the diner changed, people would stop coming. They're here for the food, but they're also here for the memories, for the connection to the past that they feel when they sit in a booth they've sat in dozens of times before.”
“You
are
a romantic,” he confirmed, his eyes looking straight into hers, and she could swear he could see whatever it was she felt, whatever new and fragile thing she was hiding.
“And
you're
out and about early.” She changed the subject, and his smile broadened.
“It's nearly nine,” he pointed out, and she felt young and foolish. Which only added to the all-around foul mood she'd been in since she'd ruined her first batch of Lamont family fudge at 5:38 that morning.
Not River's fault, so she took a deep breath, tried on a smile that felt more like a scowl. “I guess it is. I was working. I must have lost track of time.”
“First day on the chocolate job, right?” He reached over, rubbed a smudge of chocolate from the back of her hand.
She felt that one little touch all the way to her toes.
Her cheeks were hot, and she knew they were red, but she'd be darned if she was going to act like a schoolgirl with a crush. “That's right.”
“That explains it then. Kitchen work will make anyone lose track of time.”
“You spend a lot of time in the kitchen?” she asked.
“I own a couple of restaurants in Portland.”
“I guess that explains the broken dishwasher emergency,” she said, and he nodded.
“I've got some good managers, but they like to call me when things like that happen. Which is a little too often for my liking.” He lifted her hand, studying a smear of fudge that decorated the side of her wrist. “Looks like you and the chocolate weren't getting along.”
“Chocolate. Fudge. Peanut butter. Caramel. You name it, I fought with it this morning.”
“And now you're taking a break before going back to the battle?” He still had her hand, and she could feel the warmth of his fingers, the roughness of his skin. It reminded her of things she'd be better off forgetting.
She tugged her hand away, lifted her coffee as if that were the only reason why she'd wanted to free it. “I'm picking something up for my sister.”
“Adeline? I've got a meeting with her this morning.”
“Is she helping you with the. . . .” She didn't finish. There were people in the diner who knew Belinda, and she didn't want anyone spreading rumors about the financial trouble she was having.
River nodded. “Yes. Hopefully. If you want me to, I can bring the stuff to her.”
“It's okay. I haven't seen her in a few months, and I'm looking forward to catching up.” She also didn't want to go back to Chocolate Haven.
She'd have to be there before it opened, but for right now...
She'd use whatever excuse she had to stay away.
Angel rushed out of the kitchen, a Styrofoam carry-out container in one hand and a white bakery box in the other.
“Laurie is checking on a delivery, so she asked . . .” Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of River. She didn't look pleased to see him. He didn't look all that happy to see her either.
“What are you doing here?” she snapped.
“Belinda said you forgot to take these this morning.” He pulled a bottle of prenatal vitamins out of his pocket and set it on the counter. “She was worried, so I brought them.”
“Thanks,” she said begrudgingly as she set the box and carry-out container in front of Brenna. “Laurie says this is on the house because it's your first day back in town.”
“I can'tâ”
“No sense arguing. Laurie calls the shots here, and if she says you're getting it free, you're getting it free.” Angel snatched up the bottle of vitamins and swallowed one without water. “I've got work to do, so see you around.”
She flounced off, her hips swinging, her belly bouncing. She looked like a kid, and she acted like one, and something about that made Brenna feel sorry for her.
She took out one of the twenties Byron had given her and set it under her coffee cup.
“Nice tip,” River commented, and she shrugged.
“She looks like she could use it.”
“She can. Belinda helped her get insurance coverage for the kid, but Angel doesn't want to go on welfare. She's been working hard so she can provide for both of them. She's still not making enough. If Belinda hadn't taken her in, she'd be on the streets.”
“She's one of the guests?”
“Unfortunately.”
“I don't think it's unfortunate for her.”
True.
Very true, and River wasn't so much of an ass that he didn't realize it. He watched as Angel cleared off a table, handed menus to a group of older men, poured coffee for an elderly couple. She did her job well and she worked long hours. He knew she was making decent money, but she wore the same pair of jeans almost every day, the same faded shirt. Every cent she spent was on stuff for the baby.
So maybe he was an ass, because he'd been so caught up in worrying about Belinda that he hadn't spent more than a few minutes worrying about Angel.
He pulled three twenties out of his wallet and set them with the one Brenna had left.
“Nice tip,” she murmured, grabbing the box and carry-out container and standing. She looked just as thin as she had the night before, her eyes just as hollow and tired. She had a smear of chocolate on her neck and one just under her jaw.
“She looks like she could use it.”
She smiled. “You're a quick learner, River. I'd better get this over to my sister's. Chocolate Haven opens at ten and I need to be back by then.”
“Want a ride?”
“To Adeline's?” She looked surprised and maybe a little appalled.
“That
is
where we're both going, right?” He held the diner door open for Brenna and then followed her out into the warming day.
“Yes, I just didn't think . . .”
“That we'd be there at the same time?”
“I didn't think we'd be going there together, but I'm tired, and a ride would be good, so I guess I'll accept your offer.”
“No need to sound so excited about it,” he said lightly as he led the way to his truck
She climbed into the cab, all long arms and legs and skinny frame. “Sorry. The only thing I'm excited about right now is the thought of making it to the end of the day and tucking myself back into bed.”
“How long did your drive from New York take?”
“Four days.”
“You made good time.”
“I had good motivation.” She snapped her belt into place, the box and carry-out container on her lap.
“What kind of motivation?”
She met his eyes, and he realized hers were blue with specks of violet and green in them. Pretty eyes in a stunning face. “The kind that makes a woman drive 2,500 miles in four days.”
Obviously, she didn't want to share any more than that, and it was just as obvious he didn't need to add anyone else's trouble to his plate.
He was curious, though.
He'd admit that.
“I can think of a lot of things that might make a woman do that. None of them are very pleasant.”
“
Not very pleasant
sums up the last past months of my life beautifully. Now,” she said, “how about we head to my sister's house. I really do have to get back to the shop this morning. My family is counting on me to help out until Adeline gets over her morning sickness and can stand the smell of chocolate again.”
“She's expecting?”
“You hadn't heard?”
“I've been a little too caught up in my own family dramas to worry about anyone else's.”
Brenna's foot tapped against the floor of the truck, her fingers playing a rhythm on the carry-out box. “I wouldn't call Adeline's pregnancy a drama. It's more like . . . a distraction.”
“From the things that sent you running from New York?”
“I wasn't running. I was coming here to help. I was just doing it very very quickly.”
“Why?” He was back to that again, and he knew she wasn't going to answer, but he wanted to know. Maybe just because thinking about her problems was a whole hell of a lot easier than thinking about his own.
“Why not?”
“Do you always answer questions with questions?”
“Do you?”
He laughed. “Yeah. Actually. When I don't want to answer. So, I guess I'll take your question as a subtle hint that I should mind my own business.”
“It wasn't subtle and it wasn't a hint, but I'll say thank you and we'll leave it at that,” she responded. “Perfect timing for it, because there's my sister's place.”
She pointed to a small house sitting in the middle of a well-manicured lot. Flower baskets hung from the eaves of a narrow porch. More flowers decorated mulch beds near the corners of the house. An old Cadillac was parked in the driveway, and he pulled up behind it.
The front door flew open before he could put the truck in PARK and Adeline Lamont stepped out onto the porch. No, not Lamont. Jefferson. She'd gotten married a few months back and, according to Belinda, was happier than she'd ever been. He might not have heard about her pregnancy, but he'd heard plenty about her marriage.
“She looks fantastic,” Brenna murmured, flinging open her door and hopping out of the truck.
Adeline squealed and raced down the porch steps, straight into her sister's arms, the box and carry-out container smashed between them. Neither seemed to notice; they were too busy talking over each other, exclaiming about hair and makeup and happiness.
Finally, Brenna pulled back and held the crumpled box out to her sister. “Grandad asked me to bring these over. I don't think he expected them to be smashed.”
“They're not . . .” Adeline glanced toward the house and whispered, “pecan rolls, are they?”
“Of course. Grandad said they're your favorite.”
“Favorite? I crave these things like other people crave alcohol.” She was still whispering, her gaze darting back to her sister.
“So?” Brenna replied. “They're not alcohol, and there's nothing wrong with feeding the kid some sweets.” She patted her sister's belly. There wasn't much of it. Just a slight swelling beneath her gray T-shirt. “Besides, Granddad says you're not eating enough. He says you're fading away to nothing.”
“Yeah? Well, Mom says if I keep eating junk food, the baby will be born addicted to sugar.”
Brenna snorted. “You're nearly thirty, Addie. I don't think you need to worry about what Mom thinks.”
“I don't,” Adeline said. “Unless she's sitting in my kitchen when I carry in a box full of pecan rolls.”
“Is she here? Now?”
“Yes.”
“Shi . . .” Brenna's gaze dropped to Adeline's belly. “Shoot. I knew I should have hidden in the apartment for the rest of the day.”
“She would have hunted you down eventually.”
“Well, she can go ahead and do that then, because I'm not in the mood to answer a dozen questions.” She turned on her heel and probably would have walked away, but Adeline grabbed her arm.
“She won't ask anything. Not with a guest in the house.” Adeline smiled at River. “Sorry for keeping you waiting, River. Did you bring the documents?”
“I've got copies of everything Belinda has.” He reached into the truck, grabbed the manila envelope filled with letters from the state demanding payment of back property taxes.
“Great. Come on in and we'll go over everything.” She hooked her arm through Brenna's and dragged her to the house.
River followed, walking through a small foyer and into a living room. It was empty for about three seconds and then a petite brunette hurried in. Janelle Lamont hadn't changed much since River was a kid. She was still thin, pretty, and well dressed, her dark slacks and white shirt perfectly pressed. She had a few fine lines around her eyes and bracketing her mouth, but other than that, it didn't look like she'd aged.