toward the back corner booth that Mom and I used to sit in. I have something with me, and as the waitress walks up, I set it on the booth beside me.
“What can I get ya?”
I look at the nametag on her shirt. Brittany. “Are you from around here?” I ask.
Her face brightens. “I am.”
“Do you know Juliette Pearson?”
Her shoulders stiffen. “I do. If you’ve got a beef with Juliette, you need to take it elsewhere.”
I hold up my hands. “No, it’s nothing like that. She’s meeting me here, and I was just going to ask if you know what she likes to order. I was going to surprise her, that’s all.”
Brittany’s face relaxes. “Oh, in that case, hell yes, I’m from here, and I’ll help you out. She likes a cookies and cream shake and a basket of fries.”
“Perfect. Get me that, as well as a chocolate shake.”
“Coming right up.” Brittany turns to leave and then whirls back around and gets all up in my face. “We all love Juliette. She’s been through a lot in her life and deserves some stability. She also deserves a little fun. So if you can’t give her those things, you need to back off.”
“I’m not going to hurt her, and I happen to like having fun.”
She lifts two fingers and points from her eyes to mine and back to hers. “Good. I’m watching you.”
I blow out a breath when she walks away, and then I freeze when the door to the diner opens.
Juliette walks in and pauses. Her hair hangs loose over her shoulders, brushing against the tops of her breasts. She’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans, sandals, and a black blouse that hangs off of one shoulder. She looks absolutely stunning.
I stand from the booth. “I was hoping you would show up.”
She gives me a saucy grin and moves toward me. “You didn’t give me a choice.”
“Missed me that much, huh?”
Juliette shakes her head. “You have my book.”
“Ahhh, that.” I reach toward the booth where I set her book when I walked in. I pick it up, but I don’t give it to her. Not yet. “When I realized Louise grabbed it with my stuff, I thought maybe you’d come back for it.”
“I thought about it.” She reaches for the book and then laughs when I hold it out of her reach.
“But—”
“But I wasn’t in the mood to read.”
I frown and lower my hand. “Why not?”
“Because something else—or should I say someone else—was occupying all the space in my brain,” she says, snatching the book from my hand. “Couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to.”
I motion toward the booth. “Want to sit down and talk about it?”
“Nah, not yet,” she says, looking around the empty diner. She shifts on her feet before wiping her hands on her pants.
She’s nervous. Good. So am I. “You know, if you couldn’t stop thinking about me, you could’ve ended the torture and come to me sooner.”
“I could’ve.”
“But you were still convinced I wouldn’t make it two weeks in a small town?”
She lifts a shoulder and lets it fall. It’s clear Juliette has been hurt in her life, and I refuse to add to that.
“Do you want to know what I did to pass the time?” I ask her.
“What?”
“I read your book.”
Her jaw drops. “You read my book that you stole?”
“Technically, I didn’t steal it. Louise did. But don’t worry, your bookmark is still on the page where you left it.”
“‘One more step would mean certain death’,” she says, mimicking the last words she read—the words I interrupted.
“You really should finish the book. It’s an amazing story.”
Juliette looks flabbergasted.
“Go out with me,” I say.
“You don’t even know me.”
That’s where she’s wrong. “I know your best friend Colin—who you’ve known since kindergarten—owns a coffee shop and feeds your addiction for caramel macchiatos. I know you love to read. I know every single person in this town admires you and loves you. I also know you’ve had your heart broken, and you’re terrified to open yourself back up again—”
“Mason.” Juliette lowers her head.
I lift her chin until she’s looking at me. “And I’m selfish enough to ask you to give me a chance.”
“A chance to what?”
“To prove to you that not all men are like your ex. There are some of us out there who are good, responsible, and trustworthy. I won’t hurt you. I’m better than that.”
Jules laughs and wipes away the wetness around her eyes. “You’re really full of yourself, aren’t you?”