sighed. “Fine.” He disconnected the call and sat a moment, hands on the wheel, lips pursed in clear disappointment.
Headlights flared in the mirror, a car slowly pulling up behind them. It flashed its brights.
“Go,” Reese urged. A moment later, the horn honked.
Instead, Tenny turned toward him, slowly. Just as slowly, a grin broke across his still-smudged face. One that inspired a faint flutter in the pit of Reese’s stomach.
“If we can’t fight…” Tenny drawled, and laughed, darkly.
In the past few months, Reese had come to know exactly what that laugh meant.
Ten
Leah was surprised that Carter came back for that offered latte, and then accepted a ham and swiss bagel sandwich, too.
“When did you guys start doing savory food?” he asked around a mouthful, taking an appreciative glance at the sandwich in his hands, dripping spicy mustard and frilled with balsamic-dressed arugula.
“About a year ago, Dad said.” She had her laptop open again, filling out more job applications. It was less daunting when she had someone sitting across from her, keeping her distracted. “Customers were coming in for a coffee, and then going somewhere else for lunch, so they added some soup and sandwiches to the menu.”
He took another bite, nodding.
She leaned forward, whispering. “Do you think Maggie’s café is gonna be too much competition? You said Southern home cooking, right?”
“That’s what Ghost said. But he still hasn’t told her about the place yet.”
“Right. Ava said it was gonna be a Mother’s Day surprise.”
“That place will serve whatever Maggie wants it to.”
They shared a mutual snort of amusement.
She bit her lip, after, and glanced toward the counter, where her dad, and one of their young employees, Doug, were mixing complex coffees. “It’s not, though, is it?”
When she glanced back, she found his brow notched with concern. He set his half-eaten sandwich down. “Your folks are doing okay, right? The shop?”
“Yeah. I think so.” She thought of her mother earlier, that quick glimpse of her in the sunlight that had screamed something’s not right to her.
“What?” he prompted.
“I got the impression earlier that my mom was worried about something. But she didn’t want to talk about it.”
“You think they don’t want you to be worried?”
“If something’s wrong, then yeah. What with my whole” – she gestured – “situation.”
He looked like he wanted to ask for details, a spark of curiosity in his eyes. She didn’t blame him. It was only natural.
Which was why, when he picked his sandwich back up, and he’d left his questions unasked, she lobbed one of her own. “So, your nose.”
He froze, teeth sunk into bagel.
“Are you some kind of sex fiend or something?”
He choked.
Leah managed not to laugh – but it was a struggle. With what she thought of as admirable poise, she plucked a napkin from the dispenser on the table and offered it. He took it, pressed it to his mouth, and coughed for what seemed like a solid minute, red in the face, eyes tearing up. Finally, he drained off half his latte in one gulp and let out a deep breath. “Um.”
She lifted both hands, palms toward him. “Hey, I don’t know all the down and dirty. But I was in the office with Maggie that day. Something about someone named Jasmine, and someone named Chanel, and a Stephanie, too, I think.” She couldn’t hide her smile anymore, and his face flushed a deeper shade of red – not from choking, this time. “Holy shit,” she said on a laugh. “You’re a total player, aren’t you?”
“No.” Not one of Aidan’s dishonest refutations, accompanied by jeers and elbows from his brothers. But a true, emphatic denial.
It had her laughter dying away. “Okay. Sorry. It’s none of my business.”
He wiped his mouth again, head ducked, and looked up at her through his lashes, guilty now. It was easy to forget sometimes, when he wasn’t looking at you, how very blue his eyes were. If he was in a fact a player, it was all his pretty face’s fault.
“It’s…” He made a face. “It’s just kinda weird. I have – a girlfriend.” Lots of hesitation there; an uncertainty. “And she’s kinda wild. Free spirit, you know?”
She nodded. “Club life. I get it.”
“No, it’s not…” He chewed at his lip a moment. “I mean, wild stuff does go on. We’re not a bible study group.”
“Shocking.”
“Shut up,” he said, blushing again, but he sat back in his chair, less tense. “It’s like…okay. So. I can’t believe I’m talking about this.” He scrubbed at his face with both palms.