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She appreciated the inn and the diner more than words could possibly say. But it was time she admitted it to herself. They weren’t what she wanted forever. She enjoyed working at the vet clinic far more. She spent less than fifteen hours a week at the Masterson Vet Clinic. But she just felt more likeherthere.
It made her disloyal to even think it. That was probably why she felt so unsettled.
The vet clinic.
Matt had offered her more hours that morning—and had offered to pay for classes if she wanted to take the next step up to be his full-time assistant. All she had to do was take the offer. She wanted to do that. More than anything. Sheloved, loved, lovedworking with the animals at the clinic.
How to make itworkaround her family responsibilities, though—that was something she hadn’t figured out yet. Not without ending up working double the hours she already did now.
She didn’t want to let her family down.
She was still contemplating what to do about Matt’s offer when a pair of men in severe suits came in. They settled in her station. She didn’t like the way they looked at all, but it was either Dusty took them, or Meyra, who was filling in for a few hours after their latest hire had quit.
It was the suits that decided for her.
Meyra had a bit of an unreasonable anxiety where men in those particular kinds of suits were concerned. Leftovers from a nasty incident in Spain when her cousin had been three or so. Right before Meyra and Marin’s mother had died.
No one had ever been able to fix that anxiety for Meyra. They just worked around it.
Dusty grabbed silverware rolls and two mugs. She stuck two menus under her arm, and did what she had to do.
The younger of the two men looked up, right at her. His gaze shifted to her name tag then back to her face. Lingered. Men had looked at her that way before, but tonight? Tonight, it feltwrong.Gave a woman the shivers in all the wrong ways. He was in his late thirties, well-groomed, but cold. Very, very cold. His friend was about fifteen to twenty years older. A little shabbier. He was sweating. And they just looked odd. Especially in Masterson County.
“Hello, I’m Dusty. How can I help you today? Can I get you started with some coffee?” She said the words instinctively. She’d been working this diner since the age of fourteen. This was like breathing to her. She’d deal with them now, and they’d be on their way soon. It was just the coming snowstorm making her feel chilled. She wasn’t like Marin—Dusty believed in what she could see, touch. Not phantom feelings. “You two new in town or just passing through?”
Her first thought was that they were bigwigs for Hunter’s production studio. Hunter was working hard on getting the studio itself built now, instead of traveling back and forth to L.A. like he had been. But the younger guy just shook his head. Watching her.
“Just coffee, to start,” the older one said. He studied her face for a long moment. “Dusty. An unusual name for such a beautiful young woman.”
She’d heard a variant of that since she’d been able to remember. “It’s one of those annoying family nicknames from a younger sister that stuck. The special today is a Reuben on homemade rye, with homestyle french fries. I can guarantee they are unforgettable. There are also Salisbury steak or meat loaf, fried chicken, plus your choice of two sides, and our regular menu items.”
“Just coffee,” the older man reiterated. “We are taking a break from driving now.”
“I’ll take some pie, though. Ifyoubring it to me.” The younger one was more intense, definitely. And his eyes were cold. The words were flirtatious—also something she was used to in the diner—but the man was like ice. Like he was just saying the words. Testing her or something. He didn’t mean it at all. She fought a shiver.
When the doors opened and a familiar figure stepped in, she almost breathed a sigh of relief. Usually, she wanted to roll her eyes in annoyance whenever she sawhimlately—he’d been doing things to deliberately push her buttons over the last year or so—but tonight, this was exactly the kind of person she wanted in the diner tonight.
Ben Tyler stood there. Her best friend Nikki’s older brother.
4
His first instinctwas to always check a room when he entered. For a threat.
Ben Tyler had lived that way since his army days. He had no intention of stopping. Even at the diner. Especially with recent events that had damned near taken his older brother and the woman his brother loved. And far too many other people Ben loved.
Since everything that had happened to his sister a little over eight months ago, Ben had made a point of keeping an eye on things—especially around the diner. Nikki still hung around the diner almost every day, at some point or another. Sometimes her movie star husband was with her; sometimes Hunter wasn’t.
Hunter was a tough SOB—he could protect Nikki just fine, but old habits were hard for Ben to kill. Looking out for Nikki, and her friends because they weretherewith his sister, had become almost as natural as breathing.
They made a man feel needed. Ben was the kind of man whoneededto feel needed. He was good with that.
His eyes met startling green.
It was Dusty working tonight. That meant it had to be a Tuesday. She worked the inn of the evening on Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.
Sometimes he lost track of the days when in the throes of writing the next book. He studied her for a moment. He’d spent a lot of time over the last year analyzing—and watching—his kid sister’s bestest pal, Dusty.
Ben liked trying to figure her out. She was a puzzling woman, that one.
