“Right?” Franks laughs. “You go get ’im, Annie Bird. Get your flirt on.”
“I’m not flirtin’ with him.” I pull my shoulders back, grappling for a little dignity, but it seems to have gone into hiding, because a high-pitched giggle pops out of me. I bite my bottom lip to stop it, my cheeks catching on fire.
Franks laughs again and pats my butt. “Go on now. He needs some cute waitress to show him to a table.”
Another one of those ridiculous giggles pops out of me before I can catch it. Billy rolls his eyes, helping me back down to earth. I clear my throat and turn toward Mr. Drool-Worthy, trying to think casual as I make my way over to him.
“More flirt!” Franks calls behind me. “Work those hips, girl!”
I whip around and mouth for her to shut up. Billy starts laughing and nibbles her cheek, which distracts her long enough for me to approach the guy without getting unhelpfully cheered on by my best friend.
“Hey.” The word comes out as a whisper and I clear my throat, wishing I could slap myself up the side of my head.
Pull it together, Annie!
“Table for one?”
“Yes, please.” His voice is soft, his gentle, deep-set gaze making me smile.
“Right this way.”
I lead him to the end booth, figuring it’s better than eating alone in the middle of the diner. He slides into it, the right side of his face jerking like the movement hurts.
“Are you o—”
“I’m great. Thank you.” His full lips pull into a closed-mouth smile that makes my knees want to fold.
What the hell is wrong with me?
He’s a human being, Annie. That’s all. He might be a freaking gorgeous one, but that doesn’t make him better than anybody else.
The reminder pops a few of the giddy crush bubbles rising in my stomach, but not all of them.
My voice still pitches funny when I hand him the menu. “Here you go. I’ll be back in just a minute to take your order.”
And then I scoot.
Making a beeline for the kitchen, I slap down Franks and Billy’s order before heading out to clear the Yateses’ table. My eyes, of course, dart to the guy in the end booth, my insides stirring with something insane.
Geez Louise, this is crazy. I don’t know one thing about the man… except the fact that he’s hotter than the sun.
Aw, man, this is gonna be the longest night in history.
8
A Sweet Rose
The menu feels heavy in my slick hands.
My head feels like a boulder on my shoestring neck.
Man, I hope some food and drink will give me a second wind. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to make it through the night. I could always sleep in the car. It’s well hidden. But gaining ground through the night is only going to help me. I need to get as far from Sloan as I can.
My mind darts to the backpack. I hid it, plus the Audi’s car key, behind the garage at the back of the diner. It’s a scrappy, barn-shaped building that looks like it could use some care. There were no security lights around the back, which was perfect. The shadows hid me as I tucked the bag behind a pile of wood and covered it up with a few loose logs. It should stay safe until I leave this place.
The property dips down to a rusted fence. I leaned against it as I shuffled past a skinny creek, keeping my eye on the field beyond. All was quiet, and I managed to sneak through a loose part of the fence. It brought me out to the back of the garage, and I quickly got the impression that I was walking in a place that didn’t get used very often. It was perfect. I wasn’t about to stumble down Main Street, catching a bunch of unwanted attention.
I could hear the music from the bar wafting back to me, and it was easy to orient myself after that. I snuck around the side of the garage to find a small parking lot. Enough spaces for maybe five cars. They were all filled. Staying against the wall, I assessed my surroundings, measuring the distance to the diner’s back door, memorizing where the dark patches were. I could dodge the feeble security lights and escape quickly into the darkness if I needed to.
The way I’m feeling, I hope I can just stay seated in this booth until closing. Then I’ll quietly slip out and fade into the black night. A few people may wonder who that guy was sitting in the back booth, but from what I can tell, most people are too busy eating and talking to each other to even notice me.
They must get the odd traveler passing through town, wanting to take the back roads to wherever they’re going.
That’s what I should probably do.
But where will I go?
Montana.
The word makes me blink, memories both good and bad flooding me.
I don’t want to go there. I can’t.
My throat swells, a thick buzz starting in the back of my brain.
“So, you had a chance to decide what you want?” The waitress is back. The pretty blonde one with the adorable smile and flushed cheeks.
I glance away from her, staring at the glossy pictures. The black words are blurring in front of me and I blink, trying to bring them into focus.
“I’m Annie, by the way. I’ll be looking after you tonight. Can I start you off with a drink?”
“Black coffee,” I rasp, then clear my throat.
She doesn’t seem to notice the fact that I sound like a chain smoker.
Do I look as disgusting as I feel?
Her bright blue eyes smile down at me. “I can do that. No trouble at all.”
I let myself gaze at her for a minute. She’s like a yellow rose. Bright and beautiful. Her skin is milky white, her petite face framed by wisps of pale blonde hair. It looks like fine silk. I bet it feels like it too.
The pads of my fingers start to tickle, and I grip the menu a little tighter.
“Be right back.” She swivels away from me, and my eyes trail down her figure. She’s lean, her blue dress stopping an inch above her knees. I watch her calf muscles flex as she walks, and the way her narrow hips move as she weaves around the tables.
Her short ponytail brushes against the nape of her neck as she grabs a mug and the pot of coffee.
Forcing my eyes back to the menu, I try not to look like I’m checking her out as she walks back. My peripherals do the work for me, and I enjoy the flush of her cheeks as she passes the booth a few down from me.
I don’t know what the patron said, but it made Annie’s petite nose wrinkle on the left side and pulled those small lips into a grin.
Slipping my hand into Johnny’s jacket, I grip the lighter in my fist and watch Annie approach.
“And what can I get you to eat?”
I still haven’t brought the menu into focus and try to hide this fact by asking, “Is there anything you can recommend?”
“Well…” She leans down, a playful smile on her lips when she whispers, “To be honest, the chef we’ve got working tonight…” She makes a face that tells me I’m probably better to stick with coffee alone.
I snicker.
“I don’t usually tell people that, but you seem nice, so I’ll let you in on a secret. The only thing not cooked by that man are the pies we get delivered from the bakery every morning. With a scoop of ice cream, they’re a real treat. So if you’re the type who don’t mind eating sweet for your supper, I’d recommend a slice of cherry. Or the apple’s real good too.”