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Tuesday morning, Carly was back at work. She loved the morning shift. Layla was an early riser which meant they had a bit of time together before she clocked in at seven. She was off at three, just as her daughter finished quiet time at the sitter’s. For Carly, it was an almost perfect schedule. She only worked part-time, Mondays to Thursdays, with Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off every week. It was a great balance of work and home life and left plenty of time for volunteer accounting and cookie baking.
With Tanya on her honeymoon for the next two weeks, they were down one waitress and she’d be picking up extra shifts. It would be busy. Hank’s Diner was the breakfast hot spot in Elk Valley. Lunch would be busy, but not as bad as breakfast, because there were two other great lunch spots, and a sub shop.
Her boss was unlocking the door when she arrived. She stepped inside, happy to be out of the morning chill. It might be late spring, but mornings were still pretty frigid. Happiness flooded her soul. She loved this place with its gleaming white floors, and black tables and chairs. Neon green accents made the diner sunny and bright. The colors shouldn’t work together, but somehow, they did. Aside from being with Layla, this was her happy place. She tried hard not to think about how much pleasure she found in Birch’s company.
She breathed deeply, loving the smell of fresh coffee, bacon, and cinnamon buns.
The first words out of Hank’s mouth were, “I didn’t see you at the wedding.”
“There was a mix-up and I ended up as chief babysitter.” She didn’t really want to get into it with him so she added, “Anything to make my bestie’s wedding perfect. It was an honor to help out.” She explained what happened.
Hank, a crusty sixty-five-year-old, laughed. “Oh, honey. Your soft heart let you get taken advantage of.” He patted her on the back. “You’re a good person, Carly. Sometimes too good, and I’m blessed to have you working for me.” He paused. “I hate to be another person taking advantage of you, but Cookie’s out sick today. You’ll have to run the register, if that’s okay. If not, I’ll call in the Mrs.” Hank’s wife walked with a cane. A day on her feet would be agony. She’d come gladly, but Carly knew they’d manage fine without her.
“No worries, boss. I’ve got your back.” They all took turns at the register, but this potentially busy day got worse because if Hank was cooking, she’d be taking on his tasks. “I’ll just warn everyone that you’re cooking, and they’ll all leave.”
It was a running joke that Hank couldn’t cook. The truth was, he was an amazing cook, he just preferred to talk to the customers. Cookie on the other hand was a stellar cook who disliked dealing with people. After an epic motorcycle crash, the thirty-nine-year-old tattooed veteran retired from service. Cookie was a true introvert, the exact opposite of Hank. Their roles suited them. Hank in the front, Cookie in the back. Hank occasionally worked in the back, but Cookie never worked out front.
“Mind your sass, or I’ll fire you.” Laughing at his own joke, he headed for the kitchen.
She hung her jacket in the staff closet beside Hank’s tiny office and slipped her wallet and keys in the staff lockbox under the register. She barely had a fresh pot of coffee ready when the door chimed, heralding a customer. Pot in hand, she spun around to greet them with a smile.
Her smile dropped off her face when she saw Birch standing hesitantly in the doorway. Nothing like piling it on. Thanks for nothing, Universe. I’m not ready for this. Snug jeans cradled his thighs like a lover. His black leather jacket was as sexy as hell. His dark brown cowboy hat was pulled low, concealing his eyes. He carried something slung over his shoulder. He looked incredible. And sad.
Her heart wept because she’d put that gloom there.
“Good morning, Birch. Did you want a menu?” She forced herself to smile and judging by the look on his, he wasn’t fooled for a second.
“Yes, please. Is it okay if I sit over there?” He gestured to a table near the back.
“Wherever you like, as always.” The diner wasn’t a wait to be seated type of place. She didn’t understand why he asked, unless it was his subtle way of asking if it was okay to be there.
Since the other server didn’t come in until seven-thirty, she had no choice but to wait on him. Filled with hope and trepidation, she snatched up their laminated, single page, breakfast menu and headed his way. Mentally, she braced herself to apologize.
He hung his jacket on the rack attached to the bench. “I’m sorry,” she said as she reached the table just steps behind him. He apologized at the same time. They shared a wry laugh. Her next smile was genuine.
He held out a dry-cleaning bag. Her sparkling heels were looped over the hangar. “I had your dress cleaned. They got the juice and glue out.”
She traded the menu for the bag. “Oh, thank you so much. I was worried it was ruined.”
“You’re welcome.” His cheeks pinkened. He slid into the booth and looked up at her as he removed his hat and set it on the bench.
She took a deep breath. “Look. You startled me on Sunday. I honestly had no idea you liked me ... that way. None. I kind of freaked. It’s just weird hearing that a man has been going to great effort to be near me, to get my attention. It’s...” she paused to find the right word.
“Stalkerish?” he said with a wince.
“Maybe a bit.” But that’s not what I meant.” Her heart lightened knowing he was willing to make amends.
“I’ll give you that much,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t make my feelings more obvious. I was waiting for you to notice me. Not my most brilliant dating strategy.”
“Oh, I noticed you all right.” She laughed at her own behavior. “Being nervous around you, even when I liked being near you, worried me. I could barely talk to you even when I wanted to. I didn’t know how to deal with the conflicting emotions. I could handle casual, but not personal. So, I kept my distance. Maybe that was a mistake. Because I wanted, I do want, more than friendship.”
She swallowed away a lump of emotion. “I’m a grown woman. I should have had the courage to approach you. I tried. But I was afraid of rejection.”
An uncomfortable laugh broke from his lips. “You and me both. I asked Tanya to partner you with me at the wedding,” he said. “I was mad, I still am, that she bumped you.”
Heat rose in her face. “Ya, me too. I wanted to dance with you.” She resisted the urge to rip the menu out of his hands and fan her overheated face with it. Instead, she poured him a coffee, hoping he didn’t notice her trembling hands. “I’ll let you look at the menu and be back in a moment.”
She walked away, wishing she had the courage to sit with him until it got busy. Of course, why would today be any different? She always wished that. Filled with sudden resolve, she turned back. “Mind if I join you?”
His eyes widened and he smiled from ear to ear. “I’d like that.” There was a pit-a-pat in her heart that felt suspiciously like a giggle.
She draped her dress over the adjacent bench and slid into the seat across from him and stared at the coffee pot she’d set on the table. Neither said anything until the silence grew too long.
“I got a text from Tanya. It was a picture of them at the Eiffel Tower the night they arrived,” he blurted.
“I got one too. Maybe the same one. The moon in the background was lovely. I’d like to Paris, but I’d rather go to a beach vacation someday.” That was civil and friendly, right? Not too silly?
“I think England and Wales would be a nice trip. I haven’t been since I was fifteen and I love the old stonework. But a beach would be okay too,” he agreed.
She looked up and him and the discomfort of their blow up faded away. “I could do that. Of course, I have a daughter now, so travel becomes harder.”
“We could take her along. I mean, you could take her.”
“I never thought of that. Or I could get Mom and Dad to visit and watch her.” She shrugged. “Dreaming in color now, I guess. It could be a while before I travel.” Did his slip of the tongue mean he was interested in traveling with Carly and Layla? A happy shiver danced over her skin at the thought. Being with him, actually talking, brought her whole body to life.
“Me too, this month is going to be crazy. I’ve got a showing every day, and a couple of show races every weekend. It’s putting a damper on my style, because there’s this girl I want to ask out. She works at the diner.” He grinned at her.
“Oh? And is she interested?” She asked because it was foremost on her mind, even if she didn’t know what show races were.
“I hope she’s interested, but I think she’s shy around me for some unknown reason. I mean, it’s not like we haven’t known each other for years.”
“Could you take her to your races? Show her what your work is about?” She threw it out there, hoping they were on the same page about a prospective date.
“Do you think she’d be interested?” His smile had a nervous edge that tickled her heart and left her breathless. A thousand butterflies of hope danced in her tummy.
“Why don’t you ask her?”
A customer came in and without looking, she called out, “Please take a seat, I’ll be right with you.” She needed to get to work, but she didn’t want this awkwardly sweet moment to pass without securing her date.
“Carly, will you go out with me?”
The sudden acceleration of her heart startled her into a gasp. “Yes, Birch Brighton, I will go out with you. I’ll need some notice as I have a child and will need to find a sitter.” She pretended this was their first meeting hoping he’d catch the idea that this date was a reset to their awkward relationship.
“Depending on where we go, I’d love to have Layla with us. For some of our dates. I’ll message you a couple of date ideas, if that’s okay.”
Dates? He wanted more than one? Woot!
“You know what, Birch? That would be amazing.” Feeling bold she added, “About time you asked.”
“Don’t I know it.” They laughed together. She smiled at him, hoping he’d see her eagerness to be with him, and forget about her earlier shyness and her idiotic accusation of stalking.
“You better go.” He nodded toward the customer. “I’m pretty sure that’s the health inspector.”
“Yikes.” She leaped up without taking his order and rushed to the inspector’s table. “Hi. I’m sorry that took so long. Would you like coffee?” After she served him, she gathered her dress and hung it out of harm’s way.
From that moment on, the morning was a zoo. She didn’t get any time to sit, let alone talk to Birch. Knowing he’d understand, she literally took his order and ran, then dropped his food in front of him with barely a word. He left a big tip and a note that said, I’ll call you tonight. The note alone made the day worthwhile. She tucked it into her wallet for safekeeping. The diner got a clean bill of health, as always, and tips were crazy good. Even so, when she picked Layla up from the sitter’s, all she wanted to do was put her feet up.
Doing the work of two people was exhausting. Throw in manning the coffee machine and register meant she’d given every ounce of energy she had. A giddy sense of feeling useful kept her smiling all day. She had a helper’s heart and loved pitching in to make someone else’s day better.
She was sitting on the floor playing blocks with Layla when the doorbell rang. She struggled to her feet, mentally cursing whoever was interrupting their together time. She was done. Every ounce of her energy was gone. She didn’t have the mental headspace to deal with a guest.
She went to the door, trying not to be angry with the caller for disturbing their peace and quiet. She looked through the peephole. Birch. Every molecule of her body celebrated. She whipped open the door.
“Hi.” Birch grinned. “I thought you might need supper.” He held up a bag. “I grabbed Chinese. I was going to get Italian, but I remembered how much Layla loves rice.” He looked deliciously nervous and awkward. His smile was sweet and breathtaking. Her heart did a giddy dance. Her energy level soared like she’d been jumpstarted.
“Oh, you’re a life saver. I was just thinking about dinner, and I have zero energy to cook. Come in.” Her heart swelled with gratitude.
“It’s okay. I don’t want to disturb your evening.” He pushed the heavy bag into her arms and backed away.
“The weight of this bag tells me there’s enough food in here for six people, maybe more. Join us for dinner?” She almost wanted to beg him to stay but settled on giving him a warm smile instead.
“Are you sure? This was a neighborly gesture, not an attempt at a date. I swear.” He used his index finger to make an X over his heart, like a kid making a promise.
“Come in, Birch. You haven’t seen Layla since the dinner.” There was no reason to specify which dinner. That horrid engagement dinner was burned into both their brains.
He wasn’t moving away, but still looked like he might decline, so, knowing she was playing dirty, she called out, “Layla, Uncle Birch is here.” Her daughter screamed excitedly and raced into the small entry.
“Uncle Birch!” She cried and flung herself at his legs. He was one of her favorite people.
“That’s dirty pool.” Birch laughed. “Give me a second sweetie.” He toed off his boots and set them to the left of the door. His hat went on the closet shelf. “Are you hungry, munchkin?” he asked, swinging her up into his arms and kissing her cheek.
“Starved.”
Birch’s laugh was deep and joyful. “Starved?”
“Yes. That means so hungry it feels like a bear ate your tummy.” Layla jumped down and raced toward the kitchen.
“I’m continually astounded by her vocabulary. She’s the only three-year-old I know who says starved and knows what it means. You’re an awesome mother.”
“Thank you. I’ve never been one for baby talk. I’ve always talked to her like an adult. I think that’s why she knows so many words. Well, that and an hour of reading to her every night.” His honest praise made her heart happy. “Come in. Let’s eat. I’m starved too.” They laughed together.
Dinner was a light, easy affair. It reminded her of the old days when she was married and Birch wasn’t yet on her radar, or rather she wasn’t interested in him beyond as a friend. A handsome friend. Now a shimmer of shared arousal ran between them and sparked every time their hands accidentally touched. At least she hoped he felt it too.
♥♥♥
HER KITCHEN TABLE WAS so small, it barely sat three people. With eight take-out boxes, it was extra crowded. Layla climbed into her booster seat leaving Birch and Carly sitting side by side. Birch stifled a grin the first time their knees brushed, and she nearly jumped out of her seat.
“Sorry. There’s not much room here.”
“It’s okay.” Her smile was shy, and to him, glorious. There had never been a time when her smile hadn’t muddled his insides. Her face turned a delightful pink.
Their fingers brushed while passing the deep-fried wontons and she glanced at him, as if wondering if it was deliberate. He shrugged and smiled. After watching her from a close distance for so long, their proximity was as much heaven as it was torture. He was loving every minute of being near her.
This felt like family. His family. He wasn’t ready to tell Carly that he loved her again and loved Layla like a daughter. Obviously, that would be too much information at this point in their fragile new relationship. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his feelings quiet for long.
By the time they finished eating, Layla was nearly dozing in her chair.
“Why don’t you go tuck her in? I’ll put the leftovers away for you.” Her grateful smile was more than thanks enough.
“Will you take the extras home? Or can I pay for dinner?”
“Go, get her to bed before she falls out of her chair.” He rose and carried two plates to the sink. She was crazy if she thought he would let her pay for dinner.
“I’ll only be a minute.” She slid Layla’s chair out and brushed all the stray rice off her clothing before picking her up. “Say goodnight to Birch.”
“Night,” she mumbled as they passed him.
He ruffled her hair. “Good night, my favorite munchkin.” She waved sleepily as they left the kitchen, and he began bundling up the food. He had no intention of taking it home, they could eat it later. Carly would probably still be tired tomorrow. The diner would be short staffed until Tanya got back from her honeymoon. He was used to working hard and coming home to cook. He’d have energy to cook, but Carly might not. She had the added burden of caring for Layla. He’d leave the food for them.
He was on the floor wiping up spilled rice when she returned. “How did I not know how sticky this stuff is?” He laughed.
“Honestly, some nights, I leave it until it dries, and sweep it up before Layla gets out of bed.”
“I can’t decide if that’s disgusting or brilliant. You need a dog.” He rinsed the cloth he’d found in a bucket under the sink and hung it over the edge to dry.
“Just so you know,” he said, “this isn’t our date.” Now, all he had to do was figure out what to do on that much anticipated date.
