Still The One - Carrie Elks Page 0,7
fitting beneath the peeling table. He was wearing a thin grey sweater, his hair freshly washed after his evening run, though he hadn’t bothered to shave.
This had been his favorite booth as a kid. His and Van’s. Murphy’s had been one of their favorite places to hide out, accompanied by a milkshake and fries, as they laughed like crazy at each others’ jokes.
Murphy’s Diner had been a local institution for as long as he could remember. With its shiny chrome décor and red faux leather seats, it was the center of Hartson Creek life. It overlooked the town square, complete with a painted white bandstand and colorful flower beds, the verdant grass dotted with benches where the townfolk loved to sit and talk.
Along with the bakery, Laura’s Dress shop, and Fairfax Realty, it faced the large white building opposite – The First Baptist Church of Hartson’s Creek, the other focal point of small town life.
He and Van had introduced Becca to the diner and their favorite booth when she was old enough to appreciate it. She’d been maybe nine or ten years old. He’d regretted it later, when she’d beg him every day to let her come with him to meet Van. But it was still her favorite place to sit. For some reason, that warmed him.
He looked down at the tattered bench seat. The stuffing was coming out at the corner, looking like fluffy white clouds against the scarlet seat. “I don’t think they’ve updated this place since I lived here.” To be fair, it wasn’t a big surprise. He would have been more shocked if they had updated.
Becca widened her hazel eyes, pretending to be affronted. “Stop your moaning, Tanner Hartson. I hope all that money and living in New York hasn’t changed you. There was a time when this was your favorite place.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Wasn’t bitching. Just observing.”
She leaned forward, grinning. “You think you’re too good for this place now that you’re rich?” she asked him. “Maybe I should tell Murphy you don’t like the décor.”
“You do that.”
“Ha. Look at you pretending you’re not scared of Murphy.” Becca shook her head. “Everybody’s scared of Murphy. Even Murphy.”
“I’m not scared of him,” a sweet voice said. Tanner turned to see Cora Jean Masters standing there, a pad in her hand. Like the décor, she’d been part of the diner for as long as he could remember.
“Hey, Cora,” he said, standing up to kiss her cheek. “I swear you keep getting better looking.”
“Now stop that.” She swatted his arm and bit down a smile. “What can I get you?”
Becca looked up from her menu. “I’ll start with a chocolate shake please. With extra whipped cream.”
“And I’ll take a coffee,” Tanner said, then under his breath he added, “Because I’m not five.”
Becca kicked his shin. “I heard that.”
“So another Hartson boy is back in town,” Cora Jean said. “You here for a while?”
“I’m not sure how long I’m home for,” Tanner told her. “It depends how much Becca annoys me.”
This time her kick hurt. He winced, the pain shooting through his leg.
“Serves you right,” Becca told him, sticking her tongue out. “Now be nice.”
Cora Jean shook her head at their antics. “No wonder your aunt had her hair cut short. Stopped her from pulling it out.”
Tanner laughed. “She’s crazy about us.”
“You have no idea how true that statement is,” Becca told him. “You drive her crazy.”
“You want to order your food now, or shall I come back?” Cora Jean asked them.
“I know what I want.” Becca looked at Tanner. “How about you.”
“Go ahead.” He gestured at her.
Becca smiled up at Cora Jean. “I’d like a half pound hamburger with the works. And extra onions. Large fries and onion rings, too. Please.”
“Have you considered eating vegetables?” Tanner teased.
Becca shrugged. “I’m hungry. I’ve been working all day. Unlike some.”
“I’ll take the BLT and a green salad,” Tanner said, handing the menu to Cora Jean.
“You want fries with that?”
“Yeah he does,” Becca answered for him. When he gave her a questioning look she shook her head. “You can’t eat in here without having fries. Murphy would kill you.”
The bell above the diner door dinged, though from where they were sitting neither Becca nor Tanner could see who it was.
“You folks want anything else?” Cora asked.
“Nope. We’re good. Thanks, Cora.” Becca handed her own menu over. As she walked away, Tanner leaned down to rub his shin, wincing at the bruise Becca’s pointed shoes had caused.
“You’re a baby,” she told him.
“You want