Forrest’s cheeks flushed and he smiled back at her. “Yup.”
“Haven’t seen you around, sugar,” she said. “New in town?”
“Yes,” I offered. “I mean…not exactly.”
I didn’t have to tell her anything; we were only here for breakfast.
But for some reason, I decided the only possible route was radical honesty.
“I live in town, just never really been um…in town?”
Marlena’s eyes darted to Forrest, then back to me. She took a step closer, lowering her voice so only I could hear.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Willa,” I said softly.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “Forrest is a good boy, but if you’re in any trouble?—”
I reached out to grasp her hand. “I’m okay,” I said. “I’m…I’m from the Daley homestead?”
Marlena’s eyes slid to Forrest, brows up. “Ah,” she said. Then—to me again: “You know your people have been askin’ around town for you. No one’s said a word, but…I’ll give you the heads-up if I see ‘em.”
I blinked quickly, resisting the urge to cry.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
She patted my hand.
“And breakfast is on me today,” she said, then gestured at the two of us. “Come on, kids. I’ll get you all set up.”
She sat us in a perfect booth—window seat behind enough trees to provide shade and privacy—and brought coffee without asking. A pitcher of cream came next, then some sugar. I ordered a stack of pancakes and a side of bacon; I’d been smelling the syrup since we walked in and I couldn’t resist.
Marlena suggested adding strawberries.
I naturally accepted.
Forrest leaned back in the booth with his coffee, the hint of a smile on his lips.
I cocked my head. “What are you smiling about?”
“You look happy,” he said.
“So do you.”
“I am.”
It was strange to hear him say it so plainly; I’d watched him, gotten to know him over the past weeks…and he’d always had this little bit of sadness to him. Right now, though, he really did look like he was actually happy.
I bit my lip. “So last night…made you happy?”
“Spending time with you makes me happy.”
I blushed. “Can we do it again tonight?”
He reached across the table. “I’ll give you anything you want, Willa.”
Heat moved through me at that, and I looked down at the table—mostly because if I kept looking at him I was going to do something embarrassing in public.
