by Lee Kilraine
“By Monday we were going steady. We were high school sweethearts.”
Tynan waited for the rest of the story, but Lu had stopped talking and started demolishing the last section of drywall in the library’s lobby area. Huh. Talking about kissing got her quiet. Good to know. Tynan flipped the radio back on and kept working.
After ten minutes of tearing and throwing drywall around, Lu turned back to him. “So, why did you get out of the military?”
“Never said I was in it.”
“I heard some of the guys talking about it at lunch yesterday. And I saw your tattoo.”
“Yeah, I served.” He shrugged. “Next topic?”
Lu narrowed her eyes over at him before turning back to her work. She didn’t seem like the type to give up that easy, so he waited for her to—
She sang out loud, drowning out Jimi Hendrix. “’Scuse me while I kiss this guy.”
“‘Kiss the sky.’ It’s ‘kiss the sky.’” Tynan ran a hand over his face and huffed out a breath of air. “Fine. Pick something else to talk about and I’ll talk your damn ear off.”
“Tell me one real thing about you right now. Name one thing most people don’t know about you.”
“And then you’ll stop pulling my chain or singing?”
“Yes.” Lu turned and raised her right hand next to her head, palm facing out. “I swear, or may I never eat a piece of dark chocolate cake again.”
“There’s an old, rundown cabin over in Pine Bluff Woods. Our family used to rent it for a week every summer for vacation. We’d hike and fish. Set up a campfire and cook over it. Dad even let us sleep outside in sleeping bags out under the stars while he and Ma slept in the cabin.” He stopped pulling nails out of the piece of trim in his hands to appreciate the memories. “No TV. No indoor plumbing. I loved that week. I looked forward to it all year long. It was the only week each year when I wasn’t getting yelled at or getting in trouble.”
He glanced over at Lu where she stood with her head cocked and her eyes narrowed on him. Yeah, this was why he kept a few parts of himself locked down tight. He was normally an outgoing and wide-open guy, except for his no-go zones. Hell, he hadn’t even talked to his brothers about this. Most people couldn’t understand what it was like to be in trouble all the time. It wasn’t like he tried to get in trouble. Well, not the first few years of school. He couldn’t help it. And a label like ADHD hadn’t helped him.
By the time he was in middle school he’d served more detention and written more essays that started “I will not . . .” than probably his whole school combined. Eventually, he’d embraced the bad boy image and rode it for every attention-getting and laugh-inducing minute he could. He shook his head at the memories and refocused on his task of removing leftover nails from the trim. Six months ago the seed of an idea had planted itself in his mind and had grown into a burning desire. He wanted to buy the cabin and turn it into a small summer camp for active kids. Boys and girls who couldn’t sit still if you paid them. A place they could relax and not get yelled at for one week a year.
But no way was he telling Lu about all that. That was a little too personal to share with anyone right now. He pried the next nail out of the dentil molding.
“And . . . ?”
“And what?” He could feel her eyes boring into his back.
“And what about the cabin?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s been for sale for a couple of years now and I’ve put an offer in on the place.” Tynan didn’t see any point in keeping the offer a secret. Hell, it was probably flying around the Grapevine already. “The owner’s some guy from out of town. I hear he was hoping to flip it, but then the market dropped out. So we’re negotiating on a fair price. He’s holding out, hoping to make his investment back, but it isn’t worth what he wants. Especially because in the five years he’s owned it he hasn’t maintained it.”
“You’re going to fix it up?”
“Absolutely. I’ve come up with a few ideas to improve it.” He had a long itemized list of improvements he’d been saving up his money for. But the lower he could negotiate the price on the cabin, the more work he could do.
“Like indoor plumbing?”
“Please, no. What’s the fun of camping if you have indoor plumbing?”
“Spoken like a guy. Try being a woman and peeing in the woods for a whole week. It’s a pain in the butt. You have to lean against a tree and get that ninety-degree angle thing going with your knees so you don’t pee on your jeans. Just managing it once is a miracle, let alone multiple times a day for a week of camping.”
He turned around to look at her, surprised to hear the pixie had even tried camping. She just looked too . . . cute . . . and sexy. “Sounds like someone hates camping.”
“Hate it? I love it. Being out in the woods, in nature. The fresh air. The quiet. Being with people you—” Her eyes went distant and she frowned and turned away. “I used to like it. Haven’t been in years. The whole roughing-it thing lost its charm, I guess. Anyway, I totally vote you consider indoor plumbing. Unless you’re trying to keep women from renting your cabin.”
“Instead of a man cave, a man cabin? Not a bad idea.” Except she was right. And girls got diagnosed with ADHD and behavior issues, too, maybe just not as often. He added indoor plumbing to his mental list of renovations for the cabin. It would be tricky, but maybe a pump and a septic system if the ground perked. If not, then a low-tech composting toilet and rainwater collection system could work. Definitely something to look into and research while he was negotiating the price with the owner.
“Hello?” She waved her hand through his line of sight. “You checked out of the conversation for a second. Would you say you’re happy? I mean, are you happy with your life right now?”
“What’s not to be happy about?”
“You tell me.” Her big brown eyes batted up at him before gliding away.
He narrowed his gaze on her. “Good try, Tink. But I need to climb up this ladder and finish taking down the crown molding, so excuse me. Finish tossing that pile of drywall scraps out into the trash bin outside. Juan said he left the wheelbarrow out front.”
“You know, if some of you men talked about your feelings more often, you’d lower your stress and probably die of fewer heart attacks. Just sayin’.” She grumbled all the way out the door to fetch the wheelbarrow and was still bitching as she wheeled it back through the double front doors and over to the pile of discarded drywall. “Fine. Don’t talk, then. I’ll just check out your butt while I work to pass the time.”
“Fine with me. As long as you’re working and I don’t have to examine my soul, look away.”
Chapter Four
At the end of the day, Lu dragged herself into the diner across from her hotel and fell into a booth in relief. Good gravy, she was sore. Thank goodness it was Friday and she had the weekend to recover. Sure, some days her back and neck hurt after baking or standing bent over a cake for hours, but now every cell in her body was throbbing in excruciating pain.
Her arms and shoulders hurt from swinging the hammer and using a saw. Her legs and butt ached from all the lifting and carrying. Even her abdominal muscles were sore. Probably from the twisting motion of turning to toss the pieces of drywall into the pile of rubble behind her. She had splinters, small cuts, and blisters on both hands and even a bruise on her jawline where she’d smacked herself with a rubber mallet.
She was so sore that just the thought of reaching out to pick up the menu hurt. Not like she needed to look at the menu because she’d eaten here every night this week. She’d learned the hard way that a burger was the only way to go for dinner at the diner. Lu would admit, as a cook and baker herself, she had pretty high standards, but even the burgers could use a little work.
The thing was, Dave’s biscuits were so fluffy and buttery, his homemade blackberry jam the perfect combination of sweet and tart, and together with a sweet pat of melting butter they were pure pleasure. They were worth every case of heartburn the rest of his cookin
g brought on. If she lived in this town, she would offer to cook everything else so Dave could focus all his idiot-savant talent on that miracle on a plate.
“Oh, sugar, what is that man doing to you? Monday night you were fresh and pert as a newly bloomed daisy.” Renee, her waitress all week, scowled down at her. “Tonight you look like you’ve been mowed over and stomped on.”
“I feel like it too. My fault, though. I kind of stopped working out a few years ago.” Lu rolled her shoulders slowly, trying not to wince. “What man are you talking about?”
“Tynan Cates. You’re working for him, aren’t you?” Renee stuck her pencil behind her ear and cocked her hip, settling in for a conversation. “You’re new in town, but just F.Y.I, we’ve got a Grapevine faster than the Emergency Broadcast System.”
Lu nodded, not surprised at all. They had one of those in her own small town just a few hours west of here. “Yeah, I’m working for him, until he fires me next week.”
“Why would he fire you? Can’t pull your weight?”
She shouldn’t have opened her mouth. She knew she shouldn’t have. But she was tired and hungry and sore down to the tips of her eyelashes. It had been a long, exasperating week of Tynan grunting at her as his way of holding up his end of a conversation. The frustrating man was making it impossible to get the information she needed to move on with her life. It was like talking to Frankenstein’s monster. “Because I’m short. And flat-chested. And a woman.”
Renee burst out laughing. “Oh, honey, are we talking about the same man?”
Lu’s eyes narrowed, wondering if they were. “Big guy? All rock-hard muscle cut like a granite statue and oozing danger from his pores? Two different-colored eyes, one blue, the other one half green and half brown, and when they lock in on you, you’d swear he was hypnotizing you?”
“That’s the one.” A dreamy smile floated on her face. “How’d you get on his bad side?”
“Breathed. Was he born with a stick up his butt or is it just me he dislikes?”
The smile fell clean off Renee’s face. She gave a small shake of her head and pulled her pad from her apron. “No. He was born a rascal, that boy.”
A rascal? That boy was grumpy and maddening and working her to death. Her eyes narrowed, wondering if working her to the bone was to, one: keep her so busy she couldn’t talk, or two: try to exhaust her until she quit, or ding, ding, ding, three: all of the above.
“What can I get you, hon? A cheeseburger?” She pulled the pencil from her hair. “With fries on the side?”
She didn’t think she could face another bland burger. “Renee, please, please, please, could you ask Dave pretty, pretty please, if he’d make me an order of his homemade biscuits and blackberry jam? I know they’re only on the breakfast menu, but I’m so sore I may die tonight and I want one of Dave’s biscuits to be the last thing I eat.”
“Oh, lord, you do set yourself up to fall, don’t you? Honey, Dave has never made his biscuits for dinner. Ever.”
“Could you ask Dave to come out here, please?”
Renee’s eyebrows raised so high they disappeared into her up-do. “Dave!”
Dave came out from the kitchen with a frown on his face. Lu swallowed, unable to recall many other chefs who’d looked like a hard-edged, tatted-up motorcycle gang leader. He stood next to her booth, his arms crossed over his wide chest, not saying a word. Lu’s gaze snagged on the snake tattoo on his left arm. The fangs extended onto the knuckles of his hand while the rest of the scaly reptile twisted around his forearm, up around his bulging biceps, until it disappeared under his black T-shirt. Beautiful and intimidating.
“Hello.” Lu nodded and took a breath. “Here’s the thing, Dave. I’ve been thinking about your biscuits and jam all day. All week. Your biscuits are what got me through working with the grumpiest man in town.
“All week I remembered their perfection. The smooth top with a tender, perfectly browned crust. The exact degree of lightness secured with the perfect marriage of buttermilk and cream. The moment I broke it open, exposing the creamy white inside so fluffy and moist, is enshrined in my memory. And the flavor . . . ? Simple, yet so complex it’s sublime. Subtle with the buttermilk stroking my palate, until a drift of honey slips in, distracting me in the best way, sweet with just the right amount of salt to create a rich, full flavor that embraces all my senses. The food of angels.”
Renee squeaked. “Sorry. I think I just had an orgasm.”
“So, Dave, I’m begging you, as a woman who appreciates food on every level, please, would you make me a biscuit and jam for supper? It’s not a whim. I need your biscuit.” She stared at him. She’d been told her deep brown, almost black eyes could suck a person in. Man, she gave it everything she had. Tears welled up in her eyes; that’s how sore she was and how much she needed Dave’s biscuits.
“’Kay.”
She could hear Renee suck in a shocked breath beside her.
“God bless you. I’d jump up and hug you, but I can’t move.”
“I don’t do hugs. You know, I could use some help in the kitchen if you’re interested.”
Renee pulled in another shocked breath and then she clapped and gave a whoop. “Well, it’s about damn time, Dave Yolen. Although, how do you know she knows anything about cooking?”
“After that description of my biscuits?” Dave’s gaze held Lu’s. They were kindred souls of the worst kind: foodies. “Oh, she knows.”
“I’m not really looking for other work right now, but I appreciate the offer.” Lu didn’t imagine she’d be staying in Climax more than another week. Tynan might be closed up tighter than a quahog clam, but she planned to pry him open just the same. Once she had the magic answer to how Tynan had moved forward with his life, she planned to move on with hers.
“If you change your mind, the offer’s there. I’ll just get those biscuits going.” Dave headed back to the kitchen tucked behind the center counter.
“How much would it cost to get you to take that job?” Renee leaned in with a smile, the energy poured off her. “Would the key to the town help sway you?”
Lu had eaten more than a few meals at the diner during the week, so she understood the desperate tone to Renee’s voice. Dave worked hard, but the food left a lot to be desired. Like being edible. She wished she could help, but she had to stay focused on helping herself. After three years of being stuck, she was afraid if she didn’t fix herself now, it would never happen. There was no way she wanted to stay an anchor in the lives of her family and friends.
“I’m sorry, Renee, but I couldn’t quit and leave Tynan short-handed. He needs me.”
Someone coughed behind her. She turned her head to find her boss had entered from the side door behind her, all silent like a stalking puma.
“Tynan, tell Lu you don’t need her.” Renee tucked her round serving tray under her arm and clasped her hands together. “I’m begging you.”
“I don’t need you, Lu. Feel free to take Dave up on his offer. Seriously. You’d probably be awarded the key to the town and a ticker-tape parade.”
She narrowed her eyes at the man and crossed her arms on the table in front of her. “Construction is my true calling. I couldn’t abandon my gift or leave Tynan’s crew in the lurch.”
“We’d figure out a way to struggle on without you.” Tynan coughed again, then went to sit on one of the swiveling stools lined up along the center counter. “Renee, I’ll have my usual when you get a chance.”
“Dave! Double bacon cheeseburger, hold the bacon and the cheese!” Renee called through to the kitchen before turning back toward Lu, pointing her pencil at her. “Just say you’ll think about it. Even if it’s a lie, it’ll give me something to dream about.”
“Sure.” She slumped back in her booth as Renee practically skipped away. Lu’s gaze settled on Tynan’s wide shoulders. Those big, wide shoulders that distracted her in the library. No slumping from him. No, he still sat like a soldier, ramrod straight like a drill sergeant had ju
st called attention. His dark brown hair would have passed inspection too. Not a buzz cut by any means, but cropped pretty short. He had a white strip at his nape, though, as if he’d only just gotten a haircut after weeks in the sun.
He said something to Renee that had her snort laughing. When she caught her breath she flicked him with a dish towel and told him to behave. Huh. That sure wasn’t the Tynan she’d been working with all week, but that was the Tynan she needed. The one who laughed and could tell her how he did it. How he had moved past the pain and emptiness of losing someone. Obviously it was going to take more time than she’d thought.
Which was fine, really. Lord knew her family and friends could use a break from worrying about her. The effort to police their conversations, trying to avoid all mentions of Joe, fishing, hiking, camping, engagements, weddings, babies—heck, just thinking of the list of taboo topics was exhausting. And her friends had been doing that for three years now. So the longer it took her to crack the tough nut that was Tynan, the longer the respite for the people she loved back home.
“Order up!” Dave tapped the bell sitting on the stainless-steel window ledge between the kitchen and the waitress station behind the counter.
Like Pavlov’s dog, Lu’s mouth started watering looking at her plate of fluffy biscuits. Renee moved over and grabbed two orders, pausing to slide Tynan’s burger in front of him before heading her way. Lu watched Tynan’s head swivel, following Renee’s every move.
“Hey! Hello. I’d like biscuits and jam too.” Tynan rotated on his stool, keeping his gaze zeroed in on the plate in Renee’s hand.
“Sorry. These are for Lu.”
“What? Dude, seriously?” He turned toward the kitchen to catch Dave’s gaze before clapping his envious gaze back on the biscuits.
When the plate got close enough for the lovely, yeasty perfume to tickle her nose, she shut everything else out. Taking the plate from Renee with the reverence it deserved, she brought it up toward her face and inhaled. She didn’t bother to hold back the ecstatic sigh that slid from between her lips. She forked a biscuit open, watching the steam rise up. Next went a pat of the sweetest, creamiest butter. When it melted just enough, she spread it around and followed it up with a dollop of the jam, thick with sweet blobs of crushed blackberries. She pinched off a bite and popped it into her mouth.