True to You

by Jennifer Ryan

  “Let me guess, first time in jail?”

  “First time I got caught.”

  The snappy comeback didn’t ring true. He didn’t strike her as a career criminal, or even a guy who’d been running in that crowd for whatever reason made it seem like a good idea to break the law.

  “Well, if it’s not the last and you think you can use this place and a job here to make it look good for your parole officer, you can walk right out the door.”

  Flash sighed, looked around at the bystanders in the shop drinking their coffee but more interested in the two of them, and sucked it up. “Look, I did some stupid shit and got caught. I lost everything when I went to jail. I don’t have a place to stay and barely a dime to my name thanks to my bloodsucking lawyer. I need a job. I’d appreciate it if you gave me a shot. I won’t let you down.”

  Cara appreciated the sincerity. But one thing she knew for sure: people always let you down eventually.

  Tim touched her shoulder. “Come on, Cara. If nothing else, my dad won’t come in trying to drag me out with him here.”

  Cara rolled her eyes. “You don’t need a bodyguard. You need to say no and mean it. When he texts you, don’t answer. You sneak out of work again, I won’t take you back.”

  Tim’s head fell forward. He shuffled his feet and spoke to them. “I’m sorry.”

  “When you apologize, you look the person in the eye and mean it, or don’t bother saying it.”

  Tim’s head snapped up. He finally met her gaze. His eyes filled with the regret and sincerity he put into his words. “I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted. Now go wash the dishes.” She pointed to the mountain of plates and mugs stacked on the counter and filling the sink she’d spent an hour unclogging.

  Tim’s eyes went wide at the amount of work ahead of him, but he walked over and got to it.

  “As for you . . .” She stared down Flash, trying to figure out why a man who looked like him and seemed smarter than the average guy wanted to work in a coffee shop bussing tables, taking orders, and baking cakes and muffins. She didn’t think he’d last long. Not enough challenge. Not enough money to make it worth his while.

  But she desperately needed help. She, Tim, Ray, and Tandy couldn’t handle the breakfast and lunch crowd.

  Tandy scurried from one table to the next refilling coffee mugs as several plates sat on the counter ready to be served. Three people stood at the register waiting to pay or place their orders.

  “You need help. I’m more than capable.”

  “That’s what bothers me. You don’t fit, which means you’ll be out of here first chance you get. A better job. Something more appealing.”

  He looked her dead in the eye, then his eyes roamed down her body and back up. “This place has a lot of appeal.”

  The words and so do you filled her mind, but she dismissed them. As much as she enjoyed the warm feeling radiating in her body from just being close to him, she didn’t get involved with ex-cons, drug dealers, or men just passing through. Flash filled all three of those categories. Plus, he’d just gotten out of jail and she wasn’t about to delude herself into thinking he wanted anything more from her than a means to scratch an itch.

  Tandy, on the other hand, would probably jump him the second he said hello by the way she kept staring at him.

  “Miss Potter, I really need this job. I’ll work hard, show up on time, and I won’t cause you any trouble.”

  “It’s just Cara. And I have rules.”

  “I’ll follow every one of them,” he swore.

  “No lying, cheating, or stealing. I catch you in possession of, selling, or doing drugs, not only are you fired, but I’ll call the cops on you myself. If you’re here to hook up with Iceman and his crew . . .”

  He shook his head and didn’t stop even though her words did. “I’m here to earn some money and fulfill the conditions of my parole. I have no desire to go backward in my life.”

  “Fine. But when they come in here, and they will—I can’t seem to stop them—you will do your job and not spend your time buddying up to them.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She ignored that. “You’ll start your shift at five with me.”

  “Five in the morning?”

  She cocked up one brow. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “Uh, no. I just didn’t know you started that early.”

  “The shop is open from six to three every day.”

  “You work every day?”

  Her eyebrow sure was getting a workout today. “Yes. We start early to make the donuts, cakes, and muffins. Ray’s here at six sharp to work the grill.”

  “I can do that on his days off.”

  “He doesn’t have any days off. But he does cut out at noon, so you can take over when he’s not here once you learn the ropes and the menu.”

  “The menu is simple enough.”

  She tilted her head.

  He answered her unspoken question. “I saw the boards above the kitchen when I came in.”

  Not only smart, but quick when it came to taking in details. He’d barely hesitated when he walked in the front door, but she’d seen the way his eyes roamed the room. Apparently that short appraisal was enough for him to get an idea of what they did here.

  Admittedly, this wasn’t rocket science. She kept the menu and everything else in her life simple. People flocked back to her place because they liked the consistency and familiarity of the place.

  “This place is like waking up in your grandmother’s kitchen, where there’s nothing that can’t be faced or overcome with a cup of coffee and a slice of pound cake or a homemade blueberry muffin.” Flash pressed his lips together and inhaled the sweet and rich scent of baked goods and coffee. “I bet the hot chocolate is made with whole milk and rich chocolate and topped with real whipped cream. The smell of cinnamon takes you back to every Thanksgiving and Christmas. This place smells like home.”

  “Not any home I ever lived in, but yes, that’s what I want people to feel when they come in. Good food, great coffee, and fast and friendly service.”

  “Which that lady is trying desperately to give on her own while we’re in here and you’re deciding if I’m worth the trouble.”

  “You cause me any trouble, you’ll be out the door faster than a hound after a bone.”

  He smiled and it transformed his stoic face and lit his eyes as they squinted, forming an array of lines at the corners. A dimple peeked out on his right cheek.

  Her stomach dropped.

  “Hey, handsome, help a girl out.” Tandy shoved the dish-laden tray into Flash’s hands, released it, then slid her hand up Flash’s bicep. “Thanks, sugar. Don’t mind Cara. She’s always prickly with newcomers. You’ll get used to her.” Tandy turned her gaze to Cara and the lust faded to her usual indignation. “We need the help. He wants the job. You’re still pissed at Tim for ditching work for Iceman. Don’t take it out on him.” She cocked her head toward Flash, then turned her dazzling smile on him. “I’m Tandy. Welcome aboard . . .”

  “Flash.”

  “Well, let’s hope you’re not fast at everything you do.” The purr in Tandy’s voice wasn’t lost on Flash, or the innuendo. Tandy didn’t know the art of subtlety.

  Flash didn’t respond to Tandy’s blatant flirtation or check out her rack on display in the deep V of her button-up plaid that barely contained her full breasts and showed off a hint of her black lace bra. To his credit, Flash gave them both a soft smile and took the tray over to the counter next to the sink where Tim worked diligently with his head down.

  “Hire him. Please. For me,” Tandy begged in a stage whisper that Flash had to overhear, but apparently ignored.

  Tim glanced over his shoulder at Cara, his eyes filled with a plea to hire Flash, too.

  Flash turned, leaned back against the counter, braced his hands on the edge, and stared at her with the question in his eyes.

  She had her reservations. Why? She didn’t really know. De
spite that strange thing she couldn’t put her finger on, she wanted to hire him. If for no other reason than to figure him out.

  Not for Tandy. She had a different boyfriend every few days, it seemed, and cared little for them as much as she enjoyed having fun.

  And maybe once Cara got to know him, he’d prove to be just like every other guy she’d ever known and the unwelcome tremble in her belly would cease. She’d been lured in by a handsome face and rock-hard body more than once. Hey, she liked men for the short-term. They just never lived up to her expectations. She hated liars and people who used others to get what they wanted. Inevitably, they showed their true colors.

  Flash would be no different.

  The thought disappointed her. For some reason she wanted him to be better than the others. Maybe because he stood up for Tim when he didn’t have to. She admired that. And him.

  “I suppose you need a place to stay to go with the job I’m giving you.”

  Flash nodded. “That’s next on my list.”

  “You can stay with Cara.” The excitement in Tandy’s voice raised it two octaves.

  This time, Flash cocked up one eyebrow.

  “You can have one of the rooms at my place.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Hey, Ray, you mind a roommate for a while?”

  Ray turned from the grill where he flipped an over-easy egg. “Fine by me, so long as I get to watch The Voice on Monday and Tuesday. I love that Blake Shelton. He cracks me up.”

  Cara turned back to Flash. “Okay by you?”

  “Looks like I’m on Team Blake.”

  “When’s the last time you ate?”

  “Couple of hours ago.”

  “Check out the menu and the baked goods case. Take what you want. You don’t have to eat it all, but try as much as you can, so you’ll know what we serve and can make recommendations to customers. They like that. If there’s something you don’t like, tell me what and why.”

  One side of Flash’s mouth pulled back in a half frown. “Uh, you want me to criticize your cooking on my first day of work?”

  She preferred the smile and mysterious dimple.

  “If you don’t like it, someone else might not for the same reason. I can’t fix what I don’t know is broken.”

  Tandy hooked her hand under Flash’s bicep and pulled. “Come on, sugar, I’ll set you up with something good.”

  Flash followed Tandy out of the kitchen and into the dining room. Every word out of her mouth about decadent brownies and sweet strawberry tarts was meant to seduce Flash.

  It irritated Cara. Especially coming from the flirty tart on Flash’s arm.

  Everyone liked Tandy. Men especially. Despite the tart crack, Cara liked her. Tandy shined with an inner happiness that Cara didn’t possess. Tandy didn’t care what anyone thought about her. She did what she liked.

  Cara wished to be that carefree.

  Instead, she had a new employee—another person depending on her for his livelihood—a teenage boy who wanted one life but couldn’t quite escape the one he’d been born into, a father wanted by the cops and still breaking the law, and a waitress hell-bent on seducing the one man who captured Cara’s attention and woke up the long-buried dreams of having a relationship that didn’t end with lies and deceit like all the others.

  Flash worked for her. She shouldn’t think about him in that way. But she did.

  So she changed her focus back to what needed to be done right now.

  She went to the office and found the burner cell she kept in her desk. Tim appeared in the office doorway.

  “Where are they going?”

  Tim stared at his shoes. “I didn’t get that far before Flash showed up. They’ve got a white Perkins Produce truck. My best guess, since we were out on Miner’s Way, they went south.”

  Cara shook her head, knowing exactly where they were headed.

  “Get back to work. You’ve got an extra hour to make up.”

  Tim bit the side of his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’d be real sorry if you got caught driving that truck and spent the next twenty plus years in prison, or got killed in some deal gone bad.”

  “Flash saved my ass.”

  “He and I won’t always be there to save you, Tim.”

  “I know. Once I go away to school, my dad won’t be able to get to me.”

  “Unless he thinks you’d make a great dealer on campus.” Cara hated to point out the obvious way his father could still use him. The way he had used him in the past. But Tim needed to know the only way out was to stand up for himself and refuse to play their dangerous game. “You keep taking one step into that world, then pulling back, they’ll suck you all the way in and you won’t get out, because the only way out is if you’re dead. Don’t let that happen.”

  Tim ducked his head again and walked back to the sink to finish the dishes.

  She dialed the familiar number and waited for the operator to answer.

  “DEA tip line. If this is an emergency, please hang up and dial 911.”

  Cara did a quick calculation in her head. “In about twenty minutes a white Perkins Produce truck is going to turn off the fire road that runs parallel to Miner’s Way and head south on Highway 287. You’ll find the back is loaded with cocaine.”

  If it was a moving van or other cargo truck, she’d assume they were hauling meth, but a produce truck packed with crates meant a large cocaine shipment. Even if she was wrong about what they were hauling, they’d still get whatever crap the DEA did find off the streets. She hoped her father was driving and he’d finally be arrested for all his misdeeds, but she didn’t expect he’d do the deed himself. That’s why he’d ordered Tim’s father to put Tim in the driver’s seat. A scapegoat if he got caught. Young, Tim would probably get off with a light sentence.

  The first time.

  She may be getting Tim’s father in trouble, but his lack of concern for his son made him deserve every bad thing coming his way. Still, she didn’t want to upset Tim.

  “Do you have any further information?”

  In answer, Cara hung up. She’d given them all she knew and enough that they could figure out the rest on their own.

  “Hey,” Flash called from the door.

  She spun around, feeling like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

  Flash studied her face, his intense gaze locked on her. “Did you seriously call the cops on Tim’s father?”

  “Stick to donuts and cupcakes and stay out of my business.”

  Flash shrugged. “Fair enough. Everything I tasted from the old-fashioned donuts to the raspberry swirl cheesecake is fantastic, and I’m not saying that because you’re my boss and I’ve had nothing but shit in jail for the last five months. I’m addicted to the bacon-egg-and-cheese biscuits. The biscuit is light, fluffy, and buttery, just the way my mom used to make them from scratch.”

  “Thank you. It’s an old recipe from my great-grandmother I found in a trunk when I cleaned out the attic.”

  “They’re amazing.” Flash held up the carrot cake and cream-cheese-frosting cupcake. “Carrot cake is another of my favorites, but these are kind of stingy on the nuts and a bit . . . dense.”

  “Tandy made those. She doesn’t like the nuts and tends to skimp. She also doesn’t measure the ingredients with any kind of precision.”

  Flash gave her a one-shoulder shrug. “They aren’t bad, they’re just not as great as the rest.”

  “I appreciate the feedback.” She went to the filing cabinet and pulled papers out of various folders. She handed them over to Flash. “Fill those out. We’ll make your employment official so you can notify your parole officer you are gainfully employed. How do you want to be paid? Check or direct deposit?”

  “Can you issue me a check and cash it here?”

  She did the same thing for Ray. He didn’t like banks and preferred to pay cash for everything and stay off the radar.

  Just like her eccentric uncle Otis.

  “Sure. I’l
l pay you fifteen dollars an hour, plus overtime. I’ll provide your meals. If you don’t want to eat here or like what I bring you at home, it’s on you to get whatever else you want.”

  “What do I owe you for the place to stay?”

  “It’s part of your job. I bring Ray dinner every night. I’ll do the same for you. Anything you’re allergic to?”

  “Starving.” This time the smile was genuine, the dimple adorable.

  Her stomach turned another somersault. “That won’t happen with me. I like to cook.”

  “I like to eat.” Flash tossed the barely eaten cupcake in the trash. “But I’m stuffed.” He held up the papers she’d given him. “Got a pen?”

  She handed one over and swept her hand out to indicate he take a seat at her desk. “When you’re done with that, I’ll take you home and show you your new place. Do you need time to pick up anything in town before we head out?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Whatever I need, I’ll pick up tomorrow or later this week.”

  She stepped past him and out the door to get back to work, but stopped when he called her.

  “Cara?”

  She turned back, her belly doing a flip when she met his steady gaze again. “Yeah?”

  “Thanks. The job. The food. The place to stay. It’s very generous.”

  “Don’t make me regret giving them to you.” It would be a huge regret if he disappointed her.

  Chapter Five

  Iceman parked behind his brother’s old beater truck, got out of his car, and stood in what passed for a driveway. He listened for any sound of another vehicle following him way out here in the backwoods Otis preferred.

  The cabin door flew open and Otis stepped out with a shotgun pointed right at him. At this distance, Iceman didn’t much worry about Otis hitting him, but the threat Otis posed didn’t lessen. His volatile brother could be provoked by the slightest thing. Which is why he ended up living way the hell out here and away from everything and everyone who could possibly annoy him. Though the isolation and distance didn’t always keep Otis out of trouble.

  In school, his brother had been the kid who confronted teachers and other kids when he thought something wasn’t right or fair. Most of the time, he just wanted others to do what Otis wanted, even when he was out of line. Otis’s behavior wore their parents down until it was simply easier to give up trying to distract and redirect Otis and they gave in to whatever he wanted or ignored what he was doing altogether. By high school, they hadn’t even balked when Otis dropped out of school and left home in favor of working with activist organizations that over the years became more radical than people trying to do good for others.