If for Any Reason (Nantucket Love Story #1) - Courtney Walsh Page 0,141
of water in front of him.
If he had to guess, he’d say tourist season was over and this place was filled with locals. He didn’t even catch the name of the diner when he walked in, but when Wild Hair handed him the menu, he read Hazel’s Kitchen: Harbor Pointe, Michigan on the cover and figured that’s where he was.
Where he definitely should not be.
So much for staying under the radar.
“Did you see the sign on your way in? It had all the specials written on it.” Wild Hair wore a name tag that read Betsy. Now that he looked at her, she was cute, in a small-town, innocent sort of way. Not like the girls he was used to dating. They were anything but innocent.
“I didn’t.” He opened the menu and kept his head down, but the whispers started despite his best efforts to disappear. Apparently Harbor Pointe had noticed him.
“Can I just get a cheeseburger with everything, fries, and a chocolate milk shake?”
Betsy’s eyes went wide. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
He glanced up at her, and she quickly swiped the menu out of his hand.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“What do you think I should eat?” he asked.
She looked away, visibly ruffled. “Grilled chicken with a big plate of roasted vegetables and a glass of water?” There was a question in her voice.
He pretended to think it over for a few seconds but shook his head. “I’ll stick with the cheeseburger.”
She scribbled something on her notepad, then scurried away like a mouse. Grady sat for a few long minutes, feeling too big for the chair she’d put him in. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened Twitter.
Grady Benson needs to learn the art of knowing when to quit.
Benson chokes again. Time to hang up the skis, buddy.
Kiss the Olympics good-bye, GB. You’ll be lucky to land a job training little kids with a run like that. #crashandburn
He clicked the screen off and flicked it on the table with a clunk.
The race in Vermont would follow him all the way to Colorado with Twitter comments echoing in his head. He should’ve just gotten on a plane like everyone else. A solo road trip to clear his head suddenly seemed like a ridiculous idea.
Betsy returned with his milk shake, half of it in a tall glass with whipped cream and a cherry on top, the other half still in the metal mixing container. He ate healthy most of the time—it was one of the few rules he actually followed—but he didn’t feel like making wise choices right now.
He wanted to do whatever he wanted to do.
Grady glanced up as the door opened and a pretty blonde woman walked in. She wore ripped jeans rolled at the ankles, slouchy and a little too big for her, along with a gray T-shirt underneath an Army-green jacket that cinched in at the waist. Like him, she looked out of place, like she didn’t belong here, but judging by the welcome she received when she walked in the door, she absolutely did.
He couldn’t tell, but it seemed the crowd at the front of the diner was congratulating her about something. Not his business. He went back to his milk shake, and a few seconds later his food arrived.
Betsy stood beside the table for an awkward beat. “Need anything else?” she finally asked.
“I’m good, I think,” he said. “Thanks.”
She nodded, then skittered away, leaving him to eat in peace. He took a bite of his burger and washed it down with a swig of the shake. While so many of the people around him still seemed on high alert that he was sitting there, several had gone back to their own meals, their own food, their own company.
“Hey, aren’t you Grady Benson?”
Grady turned in the direction of the voice and found a booth of three guys, early twenties, off to his left. He swallowed his bite and gave them a nod.
“I remember watching you at the last Olympics, man,” one of the guys said. “Tough loss.”
“He didn’t lose, you idiot; he came in fourth,” another guy said.
He didn’t need the reminder. The first guy was right. He’d lost. Fourth place had never been good enough, not when he was favored to win the gold. Not when he only had himself to blame.
“Don’t beat yourself up, man. Hard to come back after something like that.”