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The poor guy has obviously been working up the nerve to talk to her all afternoon, lingering behind with one of his buddies long after his teammates left. No sooner does he open his mouth than she rushes off into the kitchen. He hangs his head in defeat as his friend laughs at his obvious bumbling. I’d feel bad for him, but he’s obviously not man enough to deserve a woman like her anyway.
He seems to shrug off the failed attempt easily enough, smiling at the kitchen door. I doubt any of the other jocks left her more than a few bucks for her trouble, but he pulls a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and lays it on the table before picking up his receipt to pay at the front.
“Buying her off is not the way to go, man,” his friend mutters as they pass me.
“I’m not,” the guy responds, a bite in his tone. “She waited on all twenty senior players without making more than thirty bucks for her trouble. I’m team captain. The least I can do is…”
His voice trails off as they round the corner.
I blow out a breath. What a loser. If he really wanted to act like a leader, he would have kept his teammates in line a bit more while they were here. A hundred bucks for everything they put her through is a drop in the bucket.
She doesn’t agree, judging by the way she fingers the bill with a thoughtful expression on her face after she reemerges from the kitchen to find an empty dining room. Her gaze scans the wall of windows until she settles on the tall man getting into his car.
When a frown forms on her lips, I can’t resist any longer. “Does he trouble you often?”
She startles, not having noticed me approach. “No. Not anymore.”
“But he used to?”
“You could say that.”
“If you need me to teach him a lesson, just say the word. I promised I’d have your back.”
Her laughter dances into the hollow places in my chest. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, but I’m pretty sure he could take you.”
She isn’t wrong, but I’ll never admit that. “I’ve got a tire iron in my car that says otherwise.”
“That’s oddly sweet, but I don’t wish him harm.” She sighs then turns her gaze up to me. The way her blue eyes dance around my face, she must see something that she trusts enough to grace me with an unexpectedly intimate question. “Have you ever made such a catastrophic mistake, you would do anything to blot out the repercussions even if it meant losing years of good things, too?”
I nod, all too familiar with the idea.
“He’s one of those. I wish I’d never met him.”
Her broken tone shifts something inside me. “We can’t undo the past. What we can do is learn from our mistakes and try to be better going forward.”
“That sounds like very wise advice, Mister…” she trails off with a questioning lilt.
“Jackson.” I extend my hand. “Jackson Sinclair.”
A pulse of energy shoots up my arm when she grips my hand. “It’s been a pleasure serving you today, Mr. Sinclair. I’m only sorry it won’t happen again.”
Panic wraps around my chest at the prospect of never seeing this gorgeous face except in old photographs. “How do you know it won’t?”
“You mentioned getting back on the road, and I’ve never seen you around Ironville before. I assume you’re just passing through?” She withdraws her touch then sets to work wiping down the table.
I rock back on my heels as I watch her work. My heart pounds faster to keep up with the ideas rolling through my brain. It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything other than grief. Would it be so wrong to hold onto this little piece of joy a while longer? What if I stopped in this town, came into this diner, and met this woman for a reason? If God is trying to make amends for what he took from me, then I’d be a fool not to at least see where these coincidences might lead.
“I’m actually in the market for a fresh start in life. This town seems as good a place as any.”
“Really?” She glances over her shoulder at me as she stretches to reach the back of the table. “I can actually relate to that. I can’t wait to graduate this year and move on with the next phase of my life.”
I stifle the groan threatening to escape my chest as her tight ass takes center stage in my field of vision. The way she’s sprawled out has my body yearning for things it hasn’t even missed in over a year. The guilt I should probably feel refuses to materialize because she looks exactly like the woman I loved with everything I had to give. “So, you’re a senior this year. That makes you, what? Eighteen?”
“No, my birthday isn’t until May. What about you? How old are you? What do you do for a living? You look young enough to be a recent college graduate, maybe.” She straightens up and goes about clearing tables like our conversation is the easiest she’s had all day. Her comfort in my presence and eagerness to know more about me causes pride to swell my chest. I couldn’t stop death, but maybe I can do this young woman some good, the same way she makes me feel I can breathe for the first time in so long.
“I am a recent college graduate at the ripe old age of twenty-six. I got my Master’s in electrical engineering and computer science from MIT.”
“And what, exactly, does that qualify you to do?”
