by Tracy Ewens
This was ridiculous. Her feet hurt already and even though blind Date Number One seemed like a decent guy online, she wasn’t sure he was worth all this. Rolling her shoulders back, Kenna followed the hostess to a tall, handsome man in jeans and a checkered button-up. She still felt overdressed, but when she got closer, he stood and for the first time since she’d created the stupid dating profile, she didn’t feel ridiculous. Maybe this would work, maybe she just needed to put herself out there and be friendly. Kenna stopped talking to herself and smiled as Date Number One, aka Clayton, took her hand.
“Makenna, so nice to meet you. Wow, you look great.”
“Thank you. You do too.”
He laughed—good laugh. Makenna took the seat across from him and set the absurdly tiny purse Sage had lent her on the table. She let out a breath, noticing the pseudo picnic tables placed around the half-in/half-out patio. The evening air calmed her nerves and she was feeling downright optimistic.
“Do you like wine?” He gestured to menu on the table.
“I do. This is a great place. Do you come here a lot?”
“I have to confess that I do. It’s sort of a local haunt for me. Oh, where are my manners, I almost forgot. Up.” Clayton patted the seat next to him, and an enormous, beautiful dog hopped into the seat.
She tried not to look shocked, but Date Number One introduced her to Sadie as if she was another person who had just joined them on the date. Strange. It wasn’t quite the “lock the door and call the cops” moment of a horror movie, but it felt like “look out the front blinds and maybe lock the door” time.
“Sadie, can you say ‘hello’ to the lovely Makenna?” As if she spoke English, Sadie lifted her paw and let out a quiet ruff.
Makenna grinned because it was impressive. She’d never seen a dog so well behaved, and Sadie was beautiful. So the man liked his dog. So he brought her on the date. Maybe she was being picky. This was fine. The waitress poured their wine, a merlot Clayton chose.
“Do you want to have your chicken or a burger tonight?”
Kenna looked up from her menu to say that she was actually looking at the fish tacos when she realized Date Number One wasn’t talking to her. Sadie tapped her paw on his menu twice.
“Burger it is, but no cheese this time.” He stroked the top of the dog’s head.
Okay, maybe that was weird.
“This is great. I’m surprised they let you have Sadie in the restaurant. I mean we are almost on the patio, but it’s still really great that they allow dogs, right?”
Makenna smiled. Clayton met her eyes and went from happy to crazy in seconds.
“Why does that surprise you?” he asked with a chill that told Kenna there was no right answer.
“I, well, usually restaurants don’t allow—”
“Do you have a problem with dogs, Makenna?” He glanced over at Sadie as if he wanted to cover her ears in case the big bad dog hater said something mean.
Makenna shook her head. This was past ridiculous, but she didn’t want to be known as Cruella de Vil. “I love dogs. I was just saying it was nice.”
Clayton huffed, glanced at his menu one more time, and set it aside. He then poured some of the water from the glass bottle on the table into a white bowl in front of Sadie. She was still sitting eerily human-like at the table.
“I’m sorry I was a bit abrupt, but sometimes the discrimination gets to me. I’m not saying you were discriminating, I’m just really sensitive to the human privilege that’s rampant in this country.”
Kenna was in the middle of sipping her own water. Managing not to spit it across the table, she swallowed and took a deep breath. She had no idea what to say. Dog discrimination—he was serious. She truly did love dogs and cats, even rabbits and goats. Hell, she was a farm girl; she loved all animals, but when she thought of discrimination, privilege of any kind, animals never really entered her mind. Her head already hurt and just when it seemed like the waitress had forgotten them, she arrived.
“Hi, guys. What’s it going to be tonight?”
Clayton straightened up like a Boy Scout. “Hi Liz, we’re going to start with the chips and guacamole. Not too spicy, please. Yesterday, it was a little much for our tummies.”
“Oh, sure thing. And how about for entrées?”
“I think we’ll split the spinach salad and then she’s going to have the burger, no cheese, no bun, and I’ll have the roasted chicken.”
The waitress finished writing and Makenna was certain her jaw was on the table. That really just happened, her mind attempted to process. She never even had a chance to decide if she was going to be pleasant before things escalated to “bar the door, change your number, and call the cops because the boogie man is in the house” kind of crazy. She stood up and put her napkin on the table while the waitress watched in confusion. Clayton looked up, not bothering to stand. Kenna had a feeling he’d been to this part of a date before. She picked up her purse and extended her hand to Sadie first, who put her sweet paw in the center of Kenna’s palm for a shake. Turning to Clayton, she really wasn’t sure if she should bother with a lie because it probably didn’t matter.
“Well, I’m going to go. This has been interesting and it was a pleasure meeting both of you, but I need to leave.”
“Do you want to order and take a doggie bag to go?” Clayton asked, wide-eyed.
Makenna couldn’t hold it back for one more minute. Laughter spilled from her and she simply turned and walked out.
They’d been slammed all night. Travis sent an order out to the floor and went into the bar to refill his water when he noticed the brunette. Corner bar table and shoes off, dangling from one finger, while her other hand was rubbing her foot. She had on black slacks and a silk blouse that was some sort of blue and cut low to show off whatever that French word was for the skin at the end of a woman’s neck down and between her breasts. Travis knew what it was because that and the lower back were his two favorite parts of most women, but he always forgot the proper name. Whatever it was called, the woman sitting at the bar had a beautiful one. Her hair was dark, but the light of the bar tables picked up bits of red, making him want to run his fingers through it.
She crossed her legs and moved to the other foot. Her movements were fluid and he knew it was weird, but she looked like she smelled delicious. It was strange because other than her décolletage—that was the word, he knew it would come to him—there wasn’t much skin showing, and yet he found himself staring. He wanted to run over there and see if he could help her rub her feet, but he didn’t really do the sophisticated A-list girls these days. They were too much work and usually a letdown.
He needed to get back to work, but he allowed himself one more look, really wanting to see her face. His eyes traveled from her painted toes, up her legs, and as she uncrossed her legs, her long dark waves shifted from one shoulder to the other. Travis still couldn’t see her face, but he recognized the bracelet. It was one of Paige’s friendship bracelets, like the one on his own wrist, but hers was purple instead of green. Just as he was trying to figure out why he’d never met or noticed any of Makenna’s friends, the woman flipped her hair out of her face in frustration. She beamed at Logan, who approached the table, and Travis dropped his water glass. It shattered and most of the bar barely noticed, but she did. She looked over and Travis couldn’t breathe. Her hair was long and silky, lips moist, and whatever makeup was around her already gorgeous eyes made her look different, dangerous. Travis dropped his head and walked into the back room. He needed a minute because holy crap, Makenna got him going lately with mud on her boots, but this Makenna was several degrees past comfortable. Not in just a cocktail party, nice-to-meet-you way; the woman out there rubbing her feet was a take-me-home-and-spend-the-weekend-in-my-bed beautiful. Travis held onto the counter and closed his eyes. He needed to get a damn grip. He was tired, sleep deprived. That had to be it. He quickly opened his eyes because his mind filled with images of sliding her blouse open and kissing her sk
in until she was purring—
“You making a mess, man?”
“What?” Travis spun around to face Logan.
“You broke the glass out there. I was . . . are you all right?”
Travis let out a slow, steadying breath. “Me? Yeah, I’m great. I don’t know what happened out there. Just slipped.”
“I’ll take over for a while. You should probably eat something. It looks like we’re going to be like this until closing. Why don’t you go sit in the bar? Kenna’s out there. Bad date, so maybe you can console her.” Logan laughed.
“What?”
“You consoling Makenna, that’s what.”
“I can, I mean, I’m a consoler. Sure, no big deal at all.” Shut up, idiot!
Logan stopped laughing. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Why was it a bad date?”
“I’m sure she’ll fill you in. Let’s just say the guy brought his dog.”
“Sadie? Oh man, she went out with Clayton?”
Logan looked confused. “You know her date?”
“Yeah, well, not really, but I saw him on Kenna’s computer. Shit, I told her Clayton was a bad idea.”
“So you’re a dating counselor now, or just for women you secretly want to date yourself?”
“Don’t start. We’ve been over this. Not going to happen.”
“So you keep saying.”
“I’m taking a break.”
“Good idea.”
Travis grabbed a pizza and a piece of chocolate cake and asked Sage for two Cokes.
“I’ll add some rum to hers.” Sage slid the drinks to him.
“Hey.” Travis put everything on the table and took a seat across from the beautiful woman sitting alone at a bar table.
“Hey.” She looked up at him, smiled a half smile, and Travis felt his heart jump. She was the same Kenna: tiny scar over her left eye, full lips, and a bulb to her chin that usually called on him to grab it like she was his kid sister. The kid sister part was gone. He felt the urge to grab her, but there was nothing familial about it.
“Bad date?”
“I’m not even sure we should call it that. It was honestly unbelievable. Can we share this? I’m starving.”
“Sure.” He handed her a plate and a rolled napkin. He knew he didn’t have to say a word; she was raring to vent and he was hoping he didn’t have “Damn, you’re gorgeous!” plastered all over his stupid face.
“I honestly don’t know where to begin. Remember Sadie from the profile?”
Travis chewed and nodded.
“She’s not his dog, oh no, she’s his wife. His canine wife, and don’t you dare say a word because that would be canine discrimination.” She laughed, took a bite of his pizza, and followed it with a large sip of rum and Coke.
Travis listened as Kenna shared the hilarious story of her first online date complete with flailing arms and the occasional snort of laughter. He’d never seen this version of her before: she was free of her details and defenses. It was almost as if the total disaster of her date had liberated her, torn away something unknown. He had always thought his best friend’s sister was pretty, smart-ass, and bossy, but when she leaned on her elbows with the sleeves of her silk blouse rolled up and dark hair dancing around her face, Travis was gone. The dim light of the bar, the glint in her green eyes—for a moment it felt as if they were on a date and those eyes were dancing for him.
After much laughter and a little consoling, he had to get back to work. Back to reality.
“So, what now?” he asked, stacking their plates on the empty pizza tray.
Makenna puckered her perfect lips in thought and shook her head. “I guess I just have to keep trying. You know, just because I had one ‘ruff’ date, doesn’t mean I give up, right?” She grinned, pure mischief, and he got the pun.
“True, but you might want to . . . ‘paws’ a minute before heading out there.” They both laughed and as Travis turned to leave, he could tell she was trying to think of another pun. Just as he was pushing through the kitchen door, he heard her gravelly, sexy, touch-of-rum voice say, “I know, I know, but the whole thing really ticks me off, get it? Ticks?” He looked back, shook his head, and watched her nearly fall off the stool in laughter. Catching his gaze, she stopped and mouthed, “Thank you.” He nodded quickly, because that was all he was capable of at that moment, and went back to work.
Chapter Eleven
Since the day they opened, The Yard had needed a bigger dry-storage pantry. Once they expanded the menu, space was even tighter. Logan wanted things organized, and the new space was finally finished.
Makenna walked in Saturday morning ready to “help stock and take inventory,” she said. Travis agreed to help since Logan had texted that he was running late—big surprise. He didn’t mind. His friend was happy and Travis wondered if there would ever come a day that he wouldn’t be anxious to get away from the woman in his bed. He looked at Makenna, hair now pulled back, black long-sleeve T-shirt clinging to all the right places. She had a hole in her jeans at the knee, and his eyes fixed on that patch of skin.
“Cleaner and inventory queen at your service.” Kenna reached into the bags she brought in and held up rags and wood polish.
Travis managed to pull his eyes away from her knee, dismissed his stupidity, and went back to thinking about the voicemail his mother had left him last night saying that everyone would be in town for the USC game next week. John and Avery were coming too, and “it would be great if the whole family could get together.” He’d deleted the message. He would call her back, just not today.
“Where’s Logan?” Kenna asked.
“Where’s Paige?”
“You go first.” She took a sip from the plastic cup she’d brought with her.
“He’s late; slept in.” Travis wiggled his eyebrows.
“Wow, thanks for that visual.”
“Your turn, where’s Paige?”
“Grandparents.”
Travis tripped a little at the term. He kept forgetting Makenna had in-laws. That she’d been married before.
“Do you like them?”
“Adam’s parents? Yes, they’re good people.”
Adam, another word, another name he didn’t often hear. Paige’s father, Makenna’s husband. She loved him, Travis could tell, even though the twisted pain of what she had lost had all but faded from her eyes.
“Is it weird?” fell out of his mouth before he had a chance to think about being sensitive. “Sorry, that was a stupid question. You don’t need to answer that.”
“Is what weird?”
“Being around his parents without him.”
Tilting her head in thought, she set down the dust cloths and polish. “I don’t know that weird is the right word. They take Paige twice a year and have since Adam died, so I’m used to it now. But it’s always a little . . . sore. His father looks like him so that can be a bit . . . weird. Yeah, I guess it is weird.” Kenna looked down and opened her laptop.
“Does Paige look like him?” What’s with the twenty questions, genius?
Kenna seemed to jump at little at the question, but then beamed at the mention of her daughter. “She does. Haven’t you ever seen a picture of Adam?”
Travis shook his head and wondered why he was suddenly so curious. They’d finally made their way back to normal. All he needed now was to ask the wrong questions and make her uncomfortable again.
Makenna took out her phone, tapped the screen a few times, and her face softened into an odd mix of light and sadness. She was so beautiful in all her complications. She turned the phone to him and there he was—Adam. Tall, tan, and sporting longer blond hair. He sort of looked like a surfer—like Mr. California. He was holding a bundle in a pink blanket and smiling for the camera. Travis felt a punch to his chest and found himself staring at the man’s eyes, the look on his face as he held a daughter he only knew for five weeks. It struck Travis that he knew more about that pink bundle, about the man�
�s daughter, than he ever would. Life was so screwed up sometimes. He was glued to the picture.
Makenna cleared her throat and Travis forced himself to look at her, completely surprised to see her smiling, the sadness gone. “So, that’s Adam. Mystery uncovered. That was a few days before he was gone. Strange, huh?”
“You have no idea. I mean, I guess you do. It’s . . . you’ve been through more than most, Kenna.”
“I know.” She glanced at the picture one last time and put the phone back into the pocket of her jeans.
She looked up at him and their eyes held. Travis reached out and touched the side of her face. He needed to touch her; it was almost as if his heart was confirming that she was real and not part of the picture she’d just put away. She was. Her cheek was soft and he felt her tense at his touch.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For what happened.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“I know, but sometimes when we are teasing or I’m giving you a hard time, I forget.”
“I like it that way, thank you. I’m not sure I could bear it if you treated me like I’m some kind of—”
He touched her face again, this time moving his hand past her jaw and just onto her neck. Her chest pulled in a quick breath.
“Soft, so soft. You wouldn’t want me to treat you like you were soft?”
“Right.” She stepped back from him.
Travis could have laughed and shrugged the awkward intimacy of the moment off, but he honestly couldn’t move. He found himself wanting her in a way that felt so foreign because it had absolutely nothing to do with getting her naked. He wanted to pull her into him, touch her, and make her laugh.
Makenna cleared her throat again and Travis finally snapped out of it.
“Damn, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“How’s the dating going?” Great transition, idiot. He could see her physically recoil at the abrupt change.