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Middle-aged and happily so, Sal Jr. was the picture of enjoying life. He had a mountain of smile lines that made him more approachable than I could ever hope to be. The T-shirt stretched across his beer belly was one of the original ones his father had designed and was so faded it was nearly translucent in places. His apron was one of about a dozen I’d gifted to him over the years. Each one with his father’s photo printed on a patch sewn above his heart, so Sal would always have him close.
“That good, huh?” Sal grinned, propping himself against the wall closest to Aislynn, who looked seconds away from curling up on the bench seat.
“Perfect, as usual,” I assured him. Cameron’s eyes narrowed on the short distance between them, and I knew I’d picked the right choice for Ash. He was already looking at her like his future wife. Protective asshole.
Sal snorted, dropping a brown paper bag on the table before stepping back. This time, he kept more space between himself and Ash. Cameron settled, and Sal rolled his eyes, making me laugh. I dragged the bag farther, and my mouth watered, despite my already being stuffed.
Homemade enchiladas, another order of poutine, and sweet-and-sour pork nachos. Dominic’s, Greyson’s, and my favorites. I didn’t ask how he knew Dominic was back in town; Sal had ears everywhere.
“You’re spoiling us,” I told him.
“Good. Someone should. You work too hard.”
“I have to if I want to keep this place running,” I joked. “Truly, you’re a saint. Now I won’t have to hear them whine about missing out.”
“Bring them next time.”
The thought of a little three-way date was exciting, but it was the thought of an actual three-way after that made my skin flush. “Sure. Everything okay on your end?”
Little Sal’s was a Marcosa institution, so it had my protection. Its sentimental value meant I was willing to do nearly anything to keep it and its owner alive.
“We’re good. Rumblings of that new gang, but no sign of them over here.”
I wasn’t surprised, but I hated to think how far the Aces had spread. “Let me know if that changes. Otherwise, I might think about shutting down and going on a long vacation.”
Sal laughed and slipped an arm around me when I stood from the table. “Nah, I think we’ll stay. Never know when the princess needs her poutine, you know?”
I patted his belly, remembering all the times I’d hugged his dad the same way. “You’re always the first stop when I get the craving.”
“I better be the only one.”
Grinning, I slipped out of his hold to help Aislynn out of the sunken booth and watched my cousin rush in front of us to hold the door. With the bag in one arm and Ash close by, we headed out.
Waiting until we were nearly outside, I called back to my old friend. “Send me the tab, and we’ll sort it out.”
Big Sal had sent our tab to my father at the end of every month. Sal Jr. refused to let me pay a cent since I didn’t make him pay protection. Fair’s fair was what he always said. I figured I could eventually get him to take my money, but for now, I kept a tally of what I owed.
Sal’s bark of laughter followed me out the door. “Not on your life or mine. Be safe.”
Outside Little Sal’s, the sun was shining despite a chilly breeze from the water whipping our hair around.
Ash wrung her hands as we made our way to where Geneva had the SUV idling. “So, what happens now?”
“I’ll call Sean for a meeting and give him the new terms. Either he accepts and we move on or…”
“Or you go to war.”
I made a noise of disagreement. “Not necessarily. Your father’s not a moron, Ash. He won’t want another war on top of the one we’re already looking at. It’ll affect his bottom line too much. He’ll make the right call.”
“You say that like he makes good decisions all the time.”
“Fair enough.” Chuckling under my breath, I moved past her. “Whatever happens, you know I’ve got your back.”
“I know.” She took a breath that looked a lot like it was releasing something then reached for my hand. “I’m sorry he went after Grey. I can’t imagine that was easy for you.”
“It wasn’t, but it’s also not your fault. Sean thought he could manipulate my feelings to get the upper hand while I was grieving. He’s about to learn just how wrong he was.” Tipping my head toward the car, I urged her in. “Come on. We’ll drop you off at home. I don’t want you taking a car.”
She didn’t argue, so I stepped back and let her climb in with my cousin’s help. Those two would make a good pair, whether they knew it or not. When she was settled, I reached for the handle myself, only to stop at the last minute.
