by Nikkie Locke
As he switched to counting the bricks of his walls, he felt the smile that split his narrow face. He finally had the means to accomplish his goals, and he couldn’t wait to put it to use. The sound of his laughter — rusty even to himself — echoed in the room.
Chapter Three
Payten bit back a yawn. Leaning against the counter in the diner, she felt dead on her feet. Because of the New Year’s Celebration the night before, bedtime hadn’t come for her until after three. Her parents had bailed right after the fireworks for their annual anniversary trip, leaving her to open the diner at seven.
She stayed at her spot behind the counter as she watched sleepy looking people trickle into the diner. It would be another half an hour before she started serving breakfast, but already the crowd was better than she’d expected after last night.
The New Year’s Celebration had been a huge success. Despite the freezing temperatures, the estimated turnout for the fireworks was well over five hundred people. In a town with a population of less than four hundred, it was impressive.
Vendors had sold everything from handmade scarves and hats to cocoa mix in pretty jars to homemade candles. Hartsville’s Volunteer Fire Department had served the food for the event. The volunteers struggled to keep up with orders of hot chocolate, coffee, cinnamon rolls, and potato soup until the fireworks began at midnight.
Thinking about it, she reminded herself she needed to send a note to Wade, the fire department’s chief, thanking him for volunteering to set off the fireworks. She would also need to thank the other volunteers who had helped Wade. She decided to stop by their meeting Tuesday night with a couple of pies. The firemen had a weakness for her apple pie.
She would also need to send cards to each of the vendors who had rented a booth and each of the volunteers who had helped set up the booths. She would need to visit the high school’s FFA Club to thank them for handling the event’s parking. The local Boy Scout and Girl Scout troops would need to be thanked for cleaning up the park after the celebration. She could probably get away with brownies for the little monsters.
She would have to visit the police department, as well. Despite the usual New Year’s Eve madness, Chief Whitley had managed to keep two officers at the park throughout the night. Of course, Dean had been one of them. That was just her luck.
Payten wanted to throw something at Bridgett. Something big. Ever since their conversation about him, she hadn’t been able to stop noticing him. On mornings he was at the diner, she found herself sitting at the round table amongst him and the crowd on her breaks instead of doing something useful in the kitchen. She had even gone out of her way several days ago to sit beside him by directing Ms. Clarke to a different seat.
And, Lord knows, she’ll have something to say about that. Nosy old biddy.
Yesterday, Dean caught her rolling her eyes over some tidbit of gossip shared at the table. He’d winked at her. She could have sworn she felt her stomach hit the floor.
She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of that thought. One wink from an attractive man was not enough to catch her attention, she told herself. After all, she wasn’t some inexperienced ninny. She knew how good-looking men spent their weekends. Hell, she was best friends with Kalvin the Manwhore.
She told herself that twenty-two-year-old women did not have crushes. It wasn’t rational. She was not going to turn into a simpering idiot just because he winked at her.
She sighed. If that were true, you wouldn’t be standing here watching for him to come in.
“I need more coffee, Patty.”
Payten glared at the old man calling to her. Fletcher Morris was the bane of her existence.
A little dramatic? She thought about it. Probably, but I’m tired and dramatic is allowed.
At the very least, Fletcher was a pain in the ass, one she was in no mood to deal with. She had not had enough sleep to cope with his demands.
She glanced around the diner. The round table was full, and every booth had people sitting in it. She wanted to cry. She wanted to crawl under the counter and take a nap.
“Patty!”
“Got it,” someone announced.
Dean stepped up behind Fletcher, coffee pot in hand. He clapped a hand on the older man’s shoulder and poured the coffee with the other.
Christ, the man was her hero. And, a damn good looking one at that. She had been told Dean’s great-grandfather had married an Indian woman. The woman had certainly left her stamp on the Whitley family.
Dean’s black hair fell over the collar of his flannel shirt. The copper tan of his skin made her, a red-haired, freckle-faced girl, jealous. The deep brown of his eyes seemed almost black. With high cheekbones, the square line of his jaw helped to balance the angles of his face. Several inches taller than her own five foot nine inches, he was lean without leaning more toward lanky.
Studying him across the diner, she felt like she was looking at him for the first time. She was attracted to Dean. Genuinely attracted. When had that happened? It wasn’t like his looks had changed overnight. Was it because what Bridgett had said had opened her eyes? How had she missed it? She’d known Dean all her life.
“How you doing, Mr. Morris?” Dean asked the elderly man.
“I’d be better if I could get a cup of coffee,” Fletcher grumbled.
Dean gave his shoulder a light shake. “You know where the pot is. Same place it’s been for the last forty-odd years.”
“Are you sassing me, Doug?” Fletcher snarled.
“No, sir.” Dean turned away, hiding a grin from Fletcher. He put the pot back on its burner. “How about those fireworks last night?”
That got the conversation rolling again at the round table. Unnoticed, Dean sat down on a stool at the counter in front of Payten.
“Where’s Cooper?” he asked.
She turned to look back at the kitchen as if that would make Cooper suddenly appear. “Running late,” she answered. “Mary Beth was having a come-apart.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “The woman is eight and a half months pregnant. She’s allowed to come apart.”
“Poor Mary Beth is more like nine and a half months pregnant.”
“Dean!” She reached across the counter to smack his shoulder.
“Awful, I know.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Me? I thought we were still talking about Mary Beth.”
“Dean!”
He chuckled and held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll behave now.”
“You better,” she warned, “or I’ll put you to work since I seem to be a cook short.”
“Do you need any help until Coop shows up?” he asked. “I’m not doing anything.”
Payten checked the clock. Seven-fifty. “I don’t want to intrude on your day.”
“What’s a couple hours?” he offered. “Besides, I don’t have anything better to do.”
“Oh, thanks. You sound real excited there,” she teased.
He managed to look a little ashamed. “Sorry. Do you need me to help?”
“Well…” She hated to ask, but she knew she couldn’t cook and serve. Not with the number of people there were waiting and not with as little sleep as she’d had. “If you could — ”
She heard the back door slam as Cooper came in. “Brrr! It’s cold out there.”
Payten turned slightly so she could see him as he came into view. Cooper was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt very similar to Dean. She didn’t want to take Cooper out of his, though. Thank God.
Cooper’s blond hair stuck out wildly from under his stocking cap. There was snow on his boots and the bottoms of his jeans were wet from the snow.
“Didn’t think you needed a jacket?” Dean asked.
“I was in a hurry. As soon as Mary Beth’s mother showed up, I was out the door,” he told them. “She was on the warpath this morning.”
He grabbed a clean apron out of the pantry and disappeared back into the part of the k
itchen not visible from the dining room.
She turned back to Dean. “Guess I should go take orders.”
• • •
Dean watched Payten as she started for the dining room. He thought she was moving slowly. Thinking about last night’s celebration, it didn’t surprise him. Payten had moved people through their paces without them even realizing they were being lead. Vendors, volunteers, and visitors all fell in line and jumped to do anything she asked.
He had been at the celebration covering as an officer for his father. He hated playing officer. Maybe the job wouldn’t have been so bad if he had a gun. The idea of shooting someone usually cheered him up when he was conned into working.
Unfortunately, they never gave a gun. Something about him being a liability without the proper firearms training or some such nonsense. His father was the police chief in Hartsville, though. So, training or not, he always wound up filling in when the department ran short on help.
Last night when the crowd for the celebration had cleared out of the park and he had gone home, Payten had been directing her Boy Scout minions in cleaning up the park. That had been around two A.M.
“Payten,” he called. She turned around and came back to stand in front of him. “How much sleep have you had?”
She shrugged. “A couple hours.”
“You can’t — ”
When Payten straightened and glared at him, he knew he was in trouble.
“I can’t what?”
He held up his hands. “Not trying to pick a fight here. I just don’t know how long a person can run on their feet with no sleep. Is your mama coming in later?”
“Nope,” she answered. “Her and Pop are on vacation. Besides, I got three hours.”
“I could come in later and help out,” he offered.
“Are you serious?”
“I fill in for Teddy and Coop, don’t I?”
She shook her head. “That’s different. You work in the kitchen. You don’t wait tables.”
“Let me help,” he said. “I can figure it out.”
She started to shake her head again, but stopped when Fletcher called her.
“Patty! It’s time for breakfast.”
She grit her teeth. “Coming.”
He watched her as she moved around the round table taking orders. She was sluggish at first, but after the first few orders, she moved flawlessly. She came back to the kitchen to drop the orders for Cooper, then returned to the table with a pot of coffee to refill cups. The booths came next. She dropped orders in the kitchen, returned to refill glasses, and moved to the next booth.
Quick, efficient, and friendly, she was a pleasure to watch. Mile-long legs encased in dark denim carried her gracefully from the kitchen to the floor and back again. Plain in style, her grey long-sleeve shirt hugged the curves of her chest and flowed to her hips. Her fiery red curls were ruthlessly tied back in their usual braid and already fighting their way free. She loved what she did. Her bright smile remained genuine, and her dark blue eyes lit up when she laughed.
Dean flinched when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, much like his had landed on Fletcher’s. He shook off the hand even as he hoped he hadn’t been spotted watching Payten. Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted his cousin and knew he was caught.
“Jack.”
“Dean,” Jack replied.
“What are you doing here?”
Jack sat down on a stool at the counter beside him. “Hoping to get some breakfast.”
He was suspicious. “Shouldn’t you be at the shop?”
“You win,” Jack answered. “Jonah sent me to come find you. We could use another hand today.”
“And you came here because?”
Jack smirked. “You eat here almost every day. With a waitress as pretty as Payten, why not?”
Dean thought about decking him, but decided it wasn’t worth the scene. “You’re getting on my nerves already.”
“I’m your cousin,” Jack replied. “It’s my duty. And since your favorite little cousin — ”
“There’s a reason Maddie’s my favorite,” he muttered.
“Since she’s home, I figure I should pick on you twice as much to make up for the babying she’ll do to you,” Jack continued.
He didn’t comment. Maddie did baby him. “What’s going on at the shop?”
“Odd jobs,” Jack said. “Kalvin volunteered us to shovel the sidewalks at the old folks’ apartments Wednesday. Jonah says the phone has been ringing off the hook since then.”
Dean turned on his stool to look at Jack straight on. “You expect me to leave this warm diner to go out there in that slop and shovel snow with you? How much are you paying?”
“I realize I’m not as good looking as Payten, but I’m your buddy.” Jack glanced over his shoulder at her and wrinkled his nose. “She’s just a girl,” he whispered conspiratorially.
Dean leaned close to him. “So is Kayla.”
The playfulness died. “Fuck you,” Jack grumbled.
Payten came around the counter and leaned against it at the spot in front of them. She grinned broadly at Jack.
“Good morning, Jack.”
“Morning.”
“Hungry?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Just looking for Dean.”
“Do me a favor?” she asked. “Talk to your cousin and make him quit making my cousin cry.”
Jack sat blank faced. Dean took mercy on him. After all, even in a town as small as Hartsville, there were too many Whitley cousins to keep track of.
“Garrett,” Dean told him.
“Of course,” Jack groaned. “What did he do now?”
“If he doesn’t quit making Vicki cry, my uncle is going to kill him,” she warned. “Apparently, your darling cousin doesn’t believe in the One-Woman-Whitley-Curse and enjoys seeing several girls at a time.”
Jack winced. “How do you know?”
She shook her head tiredly. “You find these things out when a teenage girl bursts into tears over the Christmas ham.”
Jack laughed. “I wouldn’t know anything about that. I haven’t had a girl cry all over me since Billy Weaver dumped Maddie in the eighth grade.”
She eyed him carefully. “What happened to Billy?”
“I beat the shit out of him,” Jack told her cheerfully. “Dean helped.”
Dean felt himself squirm under her stern look. “She’s my favorite cousin.”
She laughed. “Of course.” Something over his shoulder caught her eye. She waved. “Duty calls.”
Dean turned to watch her progress across the room. A man about his age sat at the back booth. Dean didn’t recognize him and figured him to be a tourist. It was the wrong season for them, but it happened sometimes.
“When are you going to ask her out?” Jack pestered in a low voice, pulling his attention away from Payten.
Dean sighed. Always the same thing with Jack.
“Seriously, if you don’t get a move on, some guy is going to come along and snatch her up. Where will you be then?”
“Not interested,” Dean told him.
“Liar.”
Dean tried ignoring him.
“It isn’t that hard. Ask her out. One date. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. No big,” Jack coaxed.
Dean didn’t answer.
“You heard Maddie at Christmas,” he whined. “She says that Payten thinks you’re good looking.”
Dean smirked. “Maddie said ‘sexy.’”
“Exactly!” Jack exclaimed. “You know she’s interested!”
You fed the bears, Dean thought. Shouldn’t have said anything.
“Jack, this isn’t high school. I’m not basing my dating decisions on something that someone says someone else said.” He stopped to consider that mouthful for a moment. He’d said it right.
“No, Dean. This is real life.” Dean watched Jack look down at his coffee cup, then back up at him. “She will find someone else and she will marry him instead. I woul
d know.” He stood up and grasped Dean’s shoulder. “If you could stop by the shop, we’d really appreciate it,” he said before he turned to go.
Well, doesn’t that just make you feel like shit? “I’ll be there,” Dean called to him.
Jack raised a hand and kept moving.
“Where’s Jack headed?” Payten asked, coming around the counter.
“To shovel snow,” he answered. “I’m headed out to help him after I stop at the police station.”
She moved to the back counter and grabbed two of the plates with steaming food on them. She turned back and smiled at him. “I guess that explains why he was here.”
“What can I say? I’m a sucker for a sad face.”
She laughed. “You sure are.”
“I’ll be back in a while, but call me if you decide to take me up on that offer to help out.”
Payten nodded. “I’ll call the shop if we need you.”
“Maybe you could call Vicki or something to help hold you over,” he suggested.
“Do you remember what hysterical teenage girls are like?”
“Because it’s been so long since we were teenagers,” he teased. “I’ll be back.”
He forced himself to leave the diner. He didn’t want to leave Payten there alone, but he knew she would need time to warm up to the idea of him helping her. He walked through the snow to the police station.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Kalvin called when Dean stepped inside.
Dean paused in the doorway to wipe his boots. He spotted Kalvin leaning against the edge of Burke’s desk. Burke was buried behind the desk in a sea of paperwork.
“What are you doing here?” he asked Kalvin, moving toward them.
“Pestering me,” Burke answered without looking up.
Kalvin rolled his eyes. “He’s being pissy. I took time out of my busy schedule to come see him, but is he happy to see me?”
“No,” Burke muttered.
Kalvin ignored him. “No, he isn’t. He’s pissy.”
“They offer to let you come shovel snow, too?” Dean asked Burke.
Burke finally looked up. “Yeah, he did. Ain’t he sweet? I’m buried in paperwork up to my ass and I’m supposed to be excited at the offer of shoveling snow? Well, I’m not. So you might as well get lost, Kalvin.”