He came around the counter and wrapped his arms around her. His badge caught a button on her blouse, and she shifted against it.
“I missed you, Jo. I really did.”
He held her close, and she let him, because his arms were warm and familiar, and she was tired of being angry.
“What do you want, Blue?”
“I want us to go back to the way we were,” he said, nuzzling against her neck. “I know I ruined our vacation. You were looking forward to Yosemite, and I should have come home sooner. I’ll make it up to you.”
“When? You have no more vacation days.”
“I’ll figure it out. I promise.”
Jo stood in his arms, warming to him. His heart thumped against her cheek pressed to his chest, and she detected a trace of the bergamot and cedarwood cologne she’d given him.
As good as he felt, hollow promises weren’t what she wanted. Going back to what they’d had was the problem. She’d been treading water in this relationship for too long.
“I need to think, Blue.”
He pulled back and looked at her. “About what?”
“What I want for my future.”
She saw a flash of concern in his eyes. “We’re good together, Jo.”
Why wasn’t he understanding? He wasn’t dense. He knew what she was getting at. She’d thought he might propose on their trip to Yosemite.
Instead, she said, “Go home. You need your beauty rest, Mr. TV star.”
“See, I knew you’d be upset.”
“Not about that. But I have a lot on my mind right now. The diner, the coffee project, everything.”
Blue nodded slowly and pulled away. He picked up his keys from the counter and walked to the door, where he paused.
She wanted to call him back, but she couldn’t.
After the door closed, Jo stood in the kitchen surrounded by vintage family dishes and the lingering smells of enchiladas and cologne.
Something wasn’t right about that Chicago trip. She could feel it the way she could feel a shift in the weather before a storm gathered.
If Blue wasn’t going to tell her, maybe there wasn’t anything. Or maybe he’d come out with it later, the way he usually did, when the pressure built up enough to break through the wall he’d constructed around the problem.
For now, she had other things to think about. Her coffee project was sitting in a folder on her kitchen table. If Blue could take two weeks to sort out his life in Chicago, she could take a few days to sort out her own.
3
“Hey, Jo.” A retired man at the end of the counter called out to her above the music. “Can I put an order in?”
“Just a minute. I’ll be right with you, Hank.” Tonight was crazy busy, but she loved it. The Friday night jam sessions were always packed with locals and tourists.
Sailor’s father, Adrian, who owned Regal Bikes and played guitar here on weekends, had invited two extra musicians tonight who had followings. Every booth was packed, and there was a line at the door waiting to come in.
It was so busy, she’d hardly thought about Blue all evening.
Two young women in cute beach cover-up dresses motioned to her. “Are our shakes coming up soon?”
She smiled brightly. “Right now.” She turned to the shake maker, poured in the ingredients, and punched a button.
