by Jennie Marts
“Hey, Harper.” Bryn was wearing a blue down parka over her pink uniform, and her lips shone with a glossy pink shimmer as they curved into a smile. “Go ahead. I’ll watch your stuff.”
“Thanks. You can do yours while I’m gone.” She glanced at the jar of olives and the two industrial-sized cans in the other woman’s arms. One held peaches, and the other contained mayonnaise. “Although I’m a little nervous about what the heck kind of recipe you’re buying those ingredients for.”
Bryn laughed. “The owner of the diner is having a bad week and forgot to place an order for supplies. We were stocked up on most things, but she sent me to grab these.” She juggled the items as she placed them on the belt. “Except for the olives. I think those are for her closing-time martini.”
Harper smiled and loaded Mrs. Perry’s bags into her cart. After the day she’d had, she could use a martini right about now. If only she weren’t driving and martinis weren’t so disgusting. She’d tried one of her mom’s once, and it tasted like gasoline, with an olive. Whose idea was it to stick a weird, salty olive into a mixed drink anyway?
“I’ll be right back.” She gingerly held her hand out to let the dog sniff her before gripping the handle of the cart and following Mrs. Perry to her car.
She led Harper to a cherry-red Volkswagen Beetle convertible and opened the passenger door. “Just put them on the floor there. Romeo likes to ride in the front seat.”
Harper assumed Romeo was the dog. Either that or Mrs. Perry was picking up her boyfriend on her way home. With this one, Harper couldn’t be sure. “Fun car,” she said, lifting the bags from the cart.
“I think so. I always wanted a convertible. But my husband thought they were too dangerous. So when he died, I went out and bought myself one. What do I have to be scared of?”
Harper shrugged and gingerly lifted the purse containing the dog and set it on the front seat.
“That was impressive back there,” the older woman said. “What’d you say your name was again?”
“Harper. Harper Evans.”
The elderly woman held out a wrinkled hand. “Nice to meet you, Harper Evans. I’m Etta Perry. You can call me Ms. Etta, or just Etta, or Mrs. Perry, or Mrs. Scary, if you want. I guess I prefer Etta, but I don’t really give a fig what you call me, as long as you don’t call me late for dinner.”
“Nice to meet you too, Ms. Etta.” Harper took her hand, and the other woman gave it an encouraging squeeze. The gesture and the woman’s thin, papery skin reminded Harper so much of her grandmother that she had to swallow as an ache of loneliness burned her throat. She missed Nana so much.
Etta studied her face before letting go of her hand. “So do you always offer to help out feeble old ladies?”
“No.” Harper peered around the parking lot. “Why? Do you see one around here who needs help?”
The woman’s mouth curved into a grin. “Ha. You’re a feisty one. I like that though. Too many women pander, and I’ve got no use for pandering. I’m too old for suck-ups.”
“Me too.” Harper finished loading the last bag and shut the door. “You’re all set.”
“Thank you, Harper.” Etta still held her coin purse, and she hoisted it in the air. “May I pay you for your trouble?”
Harper shook her head. “It wasn’t any trouble. I was glad to help. I recently lost my grandmother, and I think you two would have made great friends.” She didn’t know why she just told Ms. Etta that. Harper wasn’t usually much of a sharer—especially when it came to personal stuff in her life.
Etta let out a bark of laughter as she opened the driver’s door. “I doubt that. I don’t make a lot of friends.”
“Well, you made one today. See you, Ms. Etta.” Harper waved as she headed back into the store.
Bryn was unloading Harper’s cart, and the cashier was just finishing running her items. “We saw you through the window and figured we’d get your stuff rung up so you wouldn’t have to wait,” the cashier told her.
“Oh thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s the least I could do. I can’t thank you enough for helping me with old Mrs. Scary.” She clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh my-lanta. I did it again. It’s a bad habit. I live down the street from her, and the kids on our block have always called her that.”
Harper had a feeling more than just a few kids did. And Ms. Etta seemed to live up to, if not relish, the nickname. “It was no big deal. And she didn’t seem so bad. I thought she was funny.”
Bryn rubbed a hand across Harper’s back as she crossed behind her and started bagging the groceries. “You continually surprise me, Harper. From the outside, you seem tough, but every time I’ve been around you, I’ve witnessed you doing something nice for someone else. I think you might be a softie on the inside.”
Every time she’d been around her? She’d been in the waitress’s company exactly two times. Harper wasn’t sure that constituted much of an “every time” instance.
The cashier gave her the total, saving Harper from having to answer Bryn. Not that she knew what to say to her comment anyway. The waitress might have seen her do a couple of nice things, but they didn’t negate the truly terrible things Harper had done when she’d risked her freedom and abandoned her son. If Bryn knew what kind of person she really was, she’d run fast and far away from Harper.
But for now, the waitress was the only semifriend she had in this town. Well, besides her semifriendship with Logan and her recent acquaintance with a cantankerous widow. And as long as she was tallying, there was a feisty kitten back at the ranch who held her in pretty high regard. So, by her recent standards, she was actually doing all right in the semifriend department. It was the most semifriendships she’d had in a long time.
Harper paid the bill, and Bryn fell in step with her as they left the store. The lot was empty except for the blue pickup. “Where’s your car?”
“I walked over,” Bryn said, shifting her bags so she could pull a hot-pink stocking cap from her pocket.
“I’m heading to the diner now to meet Logan. I’ll give you a lift.”
“Thanks.” Bryn followed her to the truck. “Sweet ride.”
“It’s one of the ranch trucks. Logan loaned it to me so I could come into town and get some groceries.”
“Things must be going pretty well with him,” the waitress commented. “If you’re driving one of the farm trucks, he must not have fired you yet. And by the looks of this food, it seems like you’re feeding him pretty well. Thank goodness you really can cook. Otherwise, we both would have been in hot water.”
“So far, so good,” Harper said, loading the bags onto the seat. “Thanks again for recommending me for the job. I think it’s really working out.”
“I’m glad. For both of you. Logan’s a good guy, and he needs a hand right now. You haven’t been tempted to get up to any housekeeping hanky-panky, have you?”
Housekeeping hanky-panky? Did Bryn think she was up to no good with the housekeeping job? Did she think she would steal from Logan? She turned to gape at the waitress.
But Bryn was wearing a playful smile, and she waggled her eyebrows. “He is pretty dang cute. It’s easy to imagine playing house with him.”
Oh. That kind of hanky-panky.
Harper’s cheeks warmed. “Is he cute? I hadn’t noticed.” She tried to keep a straight face, but her lips tugged up in a grin. “Just get in the truck.”
Chapter 9
The two women were still laughing and joking around when they walked into the diner five minutes later. Harper liked the waitress and had even agreed to get together for coffee with her later in the week. It had been ages since anyone had invited her out for a coffee, and the invitation somehow made her feel like a real person again, not just a number in the county system or the empty husk she’d been feeling like since Nana died.
She kept a pr
etty hard shell around herself, but Bryn was breaking through the cracks, and it felt good to have another woman to talk to. Not that she had told her any of her real problems. Or about Floyd. She didn’t trust her that much yet. She didn’t trust anyone that much.
The waitress might be sweet and fun, but Harper knew when it came down to it, the only one she could truly rely on was herself. But it did feel good to laugh.
Her laughter caught in her throat as she glimpsed Logan sitting at the counter. His hat sat on the stool next to him, and his chestnut hair was mussed. He was looking out the window, a pensive expression on his face as he pushed the remaining crumbs around on his plate.
“Hey, Logan,” Bryn called out as they walked toward him. “Look who I found at the market.”
Harper had no choice but to follow in the waitress’s wake. She’d carried in the giant can of peaches and held it awkwardly against her stomach. Logan turned his head toward them, and his lips curved into a grin as his gaze bobbed from Bryn to her.
She swallowed. Holy hot hunk of cowboy. What a grin that man had. Her stomach dropped like an elevator whose cable had just snapped.
Her tongue was tied in all kinds of knots, and her mouth was suddenly so dry, she wasn’t sure she could speak. “Hi,” she finally managed.
“Hey,” he answered, glancing down at the industrial-size can in her hands. “Nice peaches.”
Her eyes widened, and he let out a chuckle. “I guess you weren’t kidding about that peach cobbler. But how much are you planning to make?”
She smiled, her face heating. Geez. What was happening to her? She wasn’t normally affected by a man just because he was good-looking. But something about Logan had her body heating and her skin flushing every time she was around him. “This isn’t for us. It’s for the diner. I was just helping Bryn,” she answered, her words coming too fast.
He grinned. “I figured. But I couldn’t pass up a chance to tease a woman carrying a giant can of peaches. It was too easy.”
Bryn moved behind the counter, setting down her bags and taking off her hat and jacket. She smoothed her hair as she approached Logan. “So, it sounds like everything is going great out at the Gulch. I told you my girl was a good bet.”
Harper swallowed again, but this time for a different reason. Bryn’s words touched her. She hadn’t considered herself anyone’s idea of a good bet in a very long time. Now both Bryn and Logan had taken a chance on her, and she didn’t want to let either of them down.
Logan tilted his head, narrowing his eyes and appraising Harper as if she were a prized calf. “I gotta give you it to you, Bryn. You were right about this one. She’s doing a great job. In fact, I was hoping I’d see you today so I could tell you thanks. I owe you one.”
Bryn chuckled. “You owe me several. But who’s counting, right?”
“Apparently you are.”
Harper smiled with them, but she hated the twinge of jealousy that snaked through her at their easy camaraderie. Of course they could tease and joke. Bryn had said they’d known each other since high school. Harper pushed down the yucky feelings and tried to get in on the joke. “Hello. You know I’m standing right here. And still holding a colossally heavy can of peaches.”
“Oh shoot. Sorry.” Logan jumped up and took the can from her, then set it on the counter.
It hadn’t really been that heavy, but the chivalrous way he’d leapt to his feet to take it from her had her stomach doing those crazy flips again. Now that she didn’t have the can, she had nothing to hold, and she suddenly couldn’t figure out what to do with her hands. “Well, we should probably go. Since we’ve got groceries in the truck and all.”
“Good point.” He picked up his hat and gave Bryn a wink. “Thanks again. I really do owe you one.”
“Don’t worry. I know where to find you when it’s time to collect.” Bryn waved as they headed toward the door. “Catch you all later. And Harper, don’t forget about getting that coffee.”
Harper smiled and waved, but couldn’t seem to breathe because Logan had opened the door for her, then put his hand on her back to guide her around a family with five kids hustling in from the cold. She knew he was just being nice and the gesture meant nothing to him, but the heat of his hand seemed to burn through her thin jacket.
“I want mac and cheese,” one of the younger kids yelled as he jostled past his brother and shoved into her legs.
If her brain hadn’t been so muddled from dealing with Logan’s touch, she might have been steadier on her feet when the kid ran into her. Instead, she stumbled backward and right into Logan’s chest. His hands must have automatically come up to catch her, but all she felt was her back against his muscled chest and her body wrapped in his strong arms. She was just the right height so the underside of her breasts rested in the crooks of his elbows, and her nipples tightened with unexpected arousal. Her breasts hadn’t been touched on any side in so long that she wasn’t sure they still worked. But apparently they did, because they were standing at attention and begging for more.
Down, girls. This wasn’t sexual. She wasn’t falling for him. She just fell into him. Yeah, right, they seemed to answer. Oh geez, she was really losing it when her boobs started talking to her.
Logan held on to her until the rowdy bunch had passed, and then she put her hands on top of his to push herself away. All the other touching had been through their clothes, but touching his hand, his skin was different. It all happened so fast, really just a few seconds, but every moment of contact was ingrained on her mind, seared into her body.
She sucked in a breath as they stepped outside, the cold air filling her lungs. The temperature seemed to have dropped ten degrees since they’d gone into the diner. Either that, or the air just seemed colder because her body had heated to furnace level.
“You okay?” Logan asked, his hand still on her back.
“Yeah, of course,” she said, striding toward the truck. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to fall all over you.” Oh geez, why did she say that? She needed to shut her trap. She pressed her lips together and reached for the door handle of the truck.
But Logan beat her to it, his hand already there as he pulled open the door and held it for her to climb in. Thank goodness the groceries were partially in the way and gave her something to focus on as she rearranged them to give her more space to sit.
“Looks like you got some good stuff,” Logan said as he got in and started the truck.
Thank goodness he was ignoring her stupid comment and moving on. “Yeah, I picked up some essentials you were out of and should have enough meals planned to get through the end of the week.”
“Great.” He surveyed the shopping bags before pulling out onto the road. “Did you have enough money?”
The warm fuzzy feelings of being pressed to his chest dissipated like steam in the air. Why did he go right to asking about the money? Was he still thinking about her falling against him, or was he not affected by that at all? Was his question innocent, or did he see the number of bags and suspect she took some of the cash?
“Yes, I had plenty, but I owe you a dollar because I had to buy an envelope and a stamp,” she answered as she held out the remaining cash. “Here’s the rest of your change.”
He shrugged. “Keep it.”
“What? No. It’s yours.”
“It’s yours now. You earned it.”
“By doing what? A run to the grocery store?” She surveyed the cash in her hand. “I don’t think picking up some hamburger and a tube of toothpaste constitutes this much of a tip.”
“How much is left?”
“Twenty-six bucks and some change.”
Logan slowed the truck and pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store. He nodded to the door as he parked. “How about this? Why don’t you take the leftover money and go inside and buy a card or whatever you do to add more minutes to th
at silly phone.”
Her heart leapt at the thought, but she still felt awkward taking his money. “I couldn’t.”
“Sure you can. Look, I’m your employer, and there may be times I need to get ahold of you. Like if we have another domestic emergency.”
“Like if you run out of shampoo?”
“Possibly. I take personal hygiene pretty seriously.” He offered her a teasing grin, but butterflies careened through her stomach as she imagined him soaping up his muscular pecs in the shower. She was also reminded of the fact that her hair was going on its third day without being washed. She needed to figure out a way to take a shower.
She looked down at the money in her hand, then back at him, deliberating if it was worth it to keep arguing. His features were set, and really, her losing this argument would still end up as a win because she’d have more minutes on her phone. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
* * *
Logan inhaled a deep breath as he watched Harper through the window of the convenience store. Damn, but the woman was beautiful.
And the heck of it was that she didn’t seem to realize it or use it to her advantage. She hadn’t flirted with him or used her feminine wiles to get anything out of him. In fact, he practically had to twist her arm to get her to take even the smallest things from him, like borrowing his truck or accepting money for her phone.
He liked the way they got along, and it surprised him how comfortable he already felt around her. They talked easily, and she had been a little playful, but as soon as things turned flirty, she seemed to shut it down, keeping them on the friend level.
If that’s all she was offering, he’d take it. Hell, he could use a friend right about now.
And it wasn’t like there was any point in starting anything up with her. She’d already said she wasn’t staying. She was just trying to earn enough money to leave. Which was how things went in his life. Don’t know why he was expecting anything different this time.