Chapter Eight

Sounds coming from the other room warmed Shay’s heart. She loved Monday nights at the squad house. Especially when the place was full like now. Those people were her family.

A while back, Joanna had mentioned to the other members Shay’s desire to cook, as opposed to staying a hostess, and they came together to support her dream. Even those not on duty stopped by when she cooked, and boy, could they eat. Everyone chipped in to buy ingredients, and Monday nights were spent preparing for Chez Shay, as they jokingly called it. Someone even made a sign and hung it over the kitchen door. The first time she saw it, she’d choked up.

Shay crossed her fingers, hoping things would stay quiet so she could finish the meal before any alerts came through. Only once had they gotten a call when she was cooking. While she stirred the butternut risotto, she bent to peek through the window in the oven at the pecan-encrusted chicken roasting. Looking good. Not wanting to leave the risotto unattended, she leaned against the counter and continued to stir.

The past few weeks had flown by, and her life had changed so much. Not just there at the squad house, but at the Grill too. Olivia, Margaret, and Eli had become important. She loved Rock House. And the way the three friends pitched in to make each other’s burdens lighter? Impressive.

Working six days a week and still running a duty night on Mondays was exhausting, but a good kind of exhaustion. Every night she fell into bed with the peace of knowing she’d done a respectable job.

Rock House flourished, and Olivia trusted Shay enough that she started spending some time over at the Jazz House. Construction had nearly come to a halt without either Aden or Olivia there. With Aden in rehab and making significant progress, Olivia resumed more of the behind-the-scenes role, leaving Shay in charge of the front.

For the first time in a long time, Shay knew contentment. She fit in somewhere.

Even Brenda had slithered off to parts unknown.

“Hellooo, dreamer.” Joanna came into the kitchen. “Hope you made enough. We have a full house.”

“Yeah, I think I have it covered. Here, taste.” She took a spoon and skimmed off some of the sauce. “What do you think?”

Joanna took the spoon and blew on the hot liquid. “If it tastes anything like the smells coming from this kitchen…” She hummed. “Seriously, this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Please, let’s put it in take-out containers and run away. No sharing with them. They don’t deserve it.”

“No way.” Mason came into the kitchen, pushing his way between the two women. “You’ve been torturing us for an hour with the smells. You will follow through and feed us.”

“Don’t worry, there’s enough to go around.” Shay laughed.

“Can I have a taste too?” Mason eyed first the spoon Joanna held, then Shay. He aimed for suave, but it came out smarmy, especially when followed by a wink.

Recently, Mason had become more than an annoyance. He edged into the problem zone and had taken to invading her space, like now. Shay took a step back. She hated confrontations, afraid it would cause a rift in the teams, but she needed to address his inappropriate attention.

“Mason, get out of here.” Joanna took him by the shoulders, turned him around, and propelled him across the kitchen. “Isn’t your girlfriend in the other room? Leave Shay alone. She’s not interested in you. God, you’re so disgusting.”

After he slunk away into the other room, Shay focused back on the risotto. “Thanks. He’s getting on my last nerve. He knows I despise cheaters. Besides, Lisa is a sweetheart and gorgeous.”

“Sometimes, guys don’t appreciate what’s right in front of them.” Joanna opened the silverware drawer and began counting out table settings.

Shay’s immature parents were a prime example of cheating. After abandoning her to Grandma Grace, Mom and Dad had faded from her life for the most part. Occasionally, her mother would call, almost always drunk, and then only to complain about her husband’s infidelity. Not something you wanted to talk to your mother about. She didn’t even want to think about Nick. She tapped the spoon against the pot a little harder than necessary. “You’re one of the lucky ones.”

“Yeah, I am. I trust Kyle.” Joanna stopped counting and gave Shay a sad smile. “Most men aren’t like the ones you’ve known. One day you’ll find someone.”

“I don’t know.” Shay began loading the serving dishes. “Maybe. I may just have bad luck. I’m afraid to even try again.”

She’d dated in college—an older man. By the time she found out he was married—too late. Shay’d let him into her heart. When they broke up, she shut down any interested men. Until Nick.

“I know—” Joanna grabbed plates and napkins. “—but don’t let fear keep you from happiness.”

“It’s not worth it.” Shay shook her head. “Besides, I don’t have time to date now.”

“But you should. You need to move on, my friend.” Joanna leaned against the doorjamb. “How about a handsome cop? Michael looks at you like you’re a tasty treat.”

“In case you didn’t get the full meaning—” She turned a withering gaze on her friend. “—I. Don’t. Date. Much less another cop.”

She had a full life, didn’t she? Work and running squad duty filled her time and need for other people. Didn’t it? Was Joanna right? Thoughts of growing old by herself caused the hollow feeling in her chest to expand. Geez, I don’t even have a cat. Enough. She pulled her mind from the gloomy thoughts and began listing all the things going right. By the time she had a good list in her head, the chicken was done. “Time to eat.”

Shouts of “about time,” mingled with huzzahs, put a smile back on her face.

****

Aden stared over his plate at Olivia, who held a forkful of Chinese food poised in midair. His sister was definitely somewhere else. “Olivia?” Then louder, “Liv!”

She jumped and spilled some sweet-and-sour sauce then griped at him while she wiped it from her blouse, “Jeez, Aden, what? You startled me.”

“I’m talking to you, and you keep spacing out.” He clamped down on his frustration. It wasn’t her fault. He’d been in rehab for a couple of weeks and was itching to get out. Fall was around the corner—his favorite time of year, and one of the busiest for the Grill. His recovery exceeded everyone’s expectations but his own. In his opinion, it still wasn’t fast enough, but that was no reason to take it out on his sister. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so sharp.”

Olivia rifled through her bag, pulled out a laundry stick and dabbed at the stain. “Don’t apologize.”

A knock on the door interrupted them. Dr. David Errapel stuck his head in.

The man had taken to visiting in the evening around the same time as Olivia.

Aden narrowed his eyes at the doctor. The two had become sort of friends in the past month. “You know I’m not paying you for house calls.”

“It’s quite all right. The pleasure of your company is worth every dollar I could be making elsewhere.” He shrugged and winked at Olivia.

“Right.”

David’s attention stayed on Aden’s sister. “Olivia, it’s a pleasure to see you.”

She stood and smoothed her skirt and blouse, a light blush appearing on her cheeks.

The man stepped up to her and extended his hand. When she placed her hand in his, the good doctor clasped it between his.

Olivia gave him a brilliant smile.

For the first time since Manny’s death, Aden saw her responding to a man. “You know that’s my sister you’re flirting with,” he muttered. David and Olivia, really?

“Aden!” Now her face was really pink.

“Did you tell him the news yet?” David’s face had taken on a reddish hue too.

She shook her head. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she smiled. “No, and if he continues to be rude, maybe I won’t.”

“I’m not rude. It’s called looking out for you.” He shook a finger at the doc. He really wasn’t upset. Maybe David would be good for her. “What news?”

“David told me earlier that he sees no reason you can’t go to the Grill for a few hours, as long as you use a wheelchair and don’t try to stand.”

Filing away the spark between his sister and the doctor to contemplate later, he grinned. “I’m getting out of here?”

“Not entirely. You still need intensive rehabilitation, but I see no reason you can’t attend to your business for a couple of hours each night.” David pointed back at him. “I know your first inclination will be to push yourself, but if you want a sustained and permanent recovery, you need to follow the rules.”

Blah, blah, blah was pretty much all Aden heard after that. He was getting out the next day and resuming his life after all those weeks. Yes, he trusted Olivia to run the business end of things. Eli was the best chef he knew. But Aden itched to get back to the Grill. Even with all the things Liv told him about Shay McDowell, and he was thankful for how she handled things, Rock House was his.

Plus, he had an angel to find. Aden hadn’t been able to shake free of those eyes or her voice. With all the worries and pain, pride in the restaurant and the memory of hazel eyes brought him peace enough to fall asleep, and the determination sufficient to wake up and face another day of torture with his therapy team.

Two surgeries later, he could now stand supported for a few minutes with his leg brace. He could even take a hesitant couple of steps. The whirlpools and massages were all right. Bending and stretching, to keep his muscles from atrophying, were what caused him to break out in a sweat and want to throw up.

“I’ll be by tomorrow evening to pick you up.” Olivia began packing up the remnants of the Chinese food, with David’s help.

“I can’t wait.” His body buzzed with excitement.

A few minutes later they said goodbyes, and Olivia and David left.

Outside the window, over the top of the rehab building’s roof, the sun hung low in the sky.

His spirits lifted. He was getting out, even though it was in a wheelchair. Suck it up, man. You’re alive, and the wheelchair won’t be permanent.