Page 9

When I’d arrived twenty minutes ago, I slipped in unnoticed and took the same table as last Tuesday. I was earlier than before, but it was still busy. The waitress who seated me was cheery, but not the face I wanted to see. Quickly, I ordered coffee while I scoured the diner looking for the woman who’d had me twisted up without even knowing it.

My coffee arrived, but there was still no sign of her. I quietly sipped my drink and kept my head down. The baseball cap was probably overkill, but I didn’t want to risk it. So far no one in Wattle Creek had figured out who I was, not beyond the grumpy recluse who hid away in the mountains. Or if they had, they hadn’t said anything.

The waitress appeared at my table, notepad in hand, pencil poised and ready to take my order.

“What’d you feel like today, honey?” she asked in a voice as sweet as her smile.

She was a gorgeous girl. Bright blue eyes, freckles across the bridge of her nose, and a long blonde ponytail swishing as she walked. The buttons on her blouse strained across her tits, which I had no doubt were more than a handful. But she wasn’t who I was looking for.

“I’ll take the buttermilk pancakes, please,” I ordered, handing her the menu.

“Anything else?”

“Just the pancakes,” I confirmed.

“No worries. I’ll get those right out to you,” she told me, flashing the most genuine smile I’d seen in a while.

I slouched in my chair as disappointment settled over me. All week I’d been looking forward to coming back, and it wasn’t the food that had me counting the days either.

What felt like barely a moment later, my plate arrived stacked high with pancakes and a small silver jug filled with warm, sticky syrup.

I eyed the syrup twice.

It was another thing I hadn’t had in years. I’d stuck to the sugar-free bullshit, which was a poor substitute.

I took a breath and emptied the jug over the stack. Sticky syrup splashed everywhere, drowning my pancakes and making my stomach grumble. I cut off a chunk and stabbed it with my fork. The moment they hit my tongue, my eyes rolled back in my head, and I would’ve sworn I died and went to heaven. They were everything I wanted and more. Fluffy and delicious.

Five minutes later, I forced myself to slow down and appreciate them. I ignored the voice in the back of my head, mentally trying to calculate how far I’d have to run and how many crunches I needed to smash out to work them off. Not that it mattered. They were worth it.

I was seconds away from licking the pool of syrup off the plate when she appeared, looking exhausted and disheveled.

Her hair was hastily balled up on top of her head, and even from here I could see the dark rings under her eyes.

The bubbly waitress appeared beside me.

“How was it?” she asked, cleaning up my plate.

“Perfect.”

“Just what we like to hear. Need more coffee?” she offered, waving the jug in her hand.

Her question registered at the same moment I saw coffee spill all over Rosie. The one I’d been hoping to see. I was out of my chair and rushing toward her without thinking.

I made it to her side, and my chest tightened. She might look like she had a rough night, but even over the scent of coffee and bacon, I could smell her shampoo. It was something sweet. Something simple. Something that would haunt my dreams. “Stop. Let me take a look,” I instructed as I reached for her wrist.

She tried to tell me she was fine, but the angry red burn on her skin told another story.

When she finally looked up at me and our eyes locked, everything stopped around us. That was the moment I knew I was well and truly fucked. I’d give every dollar I had to make this woman smile, and it would be my damn honor.

I cradled her wrist in my hands as I led her into the kitchen. The guy in the apron flipping bacon on the grill looked twice at me but turned back without a word.

“I’ll be fine,” she tried to tell me, but she didn’t pull away from my hold.

“I know you will be,” I promised her, knowing it was my life’s mission.

We arrived at the sink, and I flipped on the faucet, checking the temperature before I tugged her hand and held it under the stream.

It wasn’t until the water was running over her skin that her shoulders dropped and she took a breath.