by Mandy Baggot
Brad’s was out of the question because of his whole asking her on a date moment and the fuss he had made about Leonora. Apart from a hotel, there was only one other place she could go.
She started the car.
The photo album had been on the top of his case. His mother must have slipped it in because he sure as Hell wouldn’t have packed it. Everything was still too raw. But he’d taken it out, he didn’t know why, and now it was on the coffee table. He put the bottle of beer to his mouth and took a swig of the liquid inside. Why was life so difficult? Or was it? Maybe it was just his life, or maybe not his life, maybe it was just him. The hockey team had made a judgment. Like his team at Gen-All, they had all stared and looked him up and down and made a decision about him. First impressions, taking things at face value, that’s what people did. And they all had such high expectations—impossibly high expectations. Well, he had to be good enough or else what was the point? If he didn’t matter, if he couldn’t achieve what he wanted to achieve, he may as well drink himself stupid and find a wall to drive into. He opened the drawer of the sideboard and threw the album inside.
“Look, I know this is really weird and you probably think I’m a crazy stalker or something, but I can’t stay at my aunt’s any more. The Devil children did something really crazy and it freaked me out. And if I have to look at them across the dining table one more time, I’ll want to grab them by the pigtails and string them up from the ceiling fan. See, you can tell I’ve really thought about it. And I can’t go to Sarah’s, her and Mickey are having a silent domestic. He’s a commitment phobe and her biological clock is ticking. And if I turn up at my dad’s, I think Nancy might just punch me out. I’ve phoned the two hotels in town, the posh one that’s apparently full because of a Jehovah’s Witnesses conference and the seedy one run by Psycho Mike-o and he only has his basic room left. I’ve seen those rooms and, believe me, if he calls his last available room basic, it means it probably doesn’t have its own bathroom and I’d be sharing with a family of cockroaches. So, I’m asking—no—I’m begging you to let me stay in one of those four bedrooms. Not the one with the best view or anything, well a lake view would be nice, but it isn’t a deal breaker. I just really need somewhere to stay. Please?” Robyn gabbled when Cole had opened the front door.
He looked at her in amusement, a smile on his lips.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I’ve begged haven’t I? My next plan of action is to ask for a duvet so I can get some sleep in Leonora,” Robyn said.
“Come in,” Cole invited, taking her case from her hands.
“I can stay? You don’t think I’m a stalker?” Robyn asked in relief.
“I don’t think you’re a stalker, you can stay. I got you the car to drive, not to live in,” Cole told her.
“I’ll pay rent or do the housework or something. I have money. Vacuuming. I can vacuum at least twice a week like your mom wanted,” Robyn suggested.
“We’ll work something out. Do you want a coffee?” Cole offered.
Robyn dropped her bag on the floor and pulled him toward her, kissing him hungrily on the mouth. She felt him kiss her back, more intently than he had at the airport. She backed him up against the wall. Her mouth didn’t leave his for a second. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to hold on to this feeling, this indescribable urge she had to get intimate with him every time they were together.
His lips were so smooth, yet the way he used them to kiss her was firm and suggestive. His hands touched her skin at the waistband of her jeans and it was like she’d been scorched. A warm, unrecognizable sensation shot up her spine, and she shivered.
Then he ended it. He pulled his mouth away from hers to take a breath. He looked at her, his dark eyes questioning. He didn’t know what was going on between them and neither did she.
“This isn’t a date,” Robyn said quickly, enjoying the way his arms felt circled around her waist.
“I know…you don’t do dates,” he answered, still looking deep into her eyes.
“Have you got any beer?” she asked.
Chapter Twelve
He ran his finger over his lips as he lay in bed. She’d kissed him again last night and he’d kissed her back. He’d held her close to him and he’d felt her quake. She was holding on to something, he could tell. She put on this brave front, talked her way out of situations, but inside she was vulnerable. Just like him. The job and his project was the only thing holding him together sometimes. What was holding Robyn together?
He’d given her the best room. She had a panoramic view of West Lake and all its natural Michigan beauty. When she’d woken up the next morning and drawn back the curtains, the scenery had stunned her. The sun was already up and the lake was still and calm. Like a mirror, it reflected every tree standing along the banks. The sky was a cornflower blue and there wasn’t a cloud in sight.
She was still suffering from the time difference, but this morning, opening her eyes to the fantastic garden, the boats moored around the edge of the water and the lake itself, everything seemed a little bit better. Today was a good weather day. The sun was shining and there was little wind, and in Portage, that meant getting intimate with the barbecue.
She was already outside on the deck, a pair of tongs in her hand, and the lid of the grill open, when Cole appeared.
“Morning! Bratwurst?” she greeted, waving a sausage in the air.
“Man, it’s not even seven yet. How long have you been up?” Cole asked, joining her at the barbecue.
“I don’t know, about five-thirty. The sun was up, I went for a walk around the lake, came back, put a load of washing on—it’s in the dryer now, by the way, if you’re looking for something—then I thought I’d cook breakfast. Well, I was going to do eggs, but you’re all out,” Robyn informed him, turning the sausages over.
“I’ll pick some up today,” he answered.
“Oh no, don’t worry, there’s some other stuff we need. I’ll go to Meijer’s later, use Pam’s discount. No point having family working at a store if you don’t take advantage of their discount card,” Robyn said.
“Listen, Robyn, you don’t have to do this. Doing my laundry and cooking me breakfast. I said you can stay, I don’t expect anything in return. And I mean anything in return,” Cole assured her.
“You’re talking about the kiss, aren’t you? That wasn’t a down payment on the room. What sort of girl do you think I am?” Robyn asked, trying to avoid looking at him.
Last night’s kiss had been even better than the kiss at the airport. She’d wanted more, she’d wanted him more. She’d wanted something to stop her thinking, just for a few moments. Something to wipe away the sick graffiti the twins had painted and what it meant. What better distraction than getting a little intimate with her crush?
“That wasn’t what I meant. I just…” Cole began.
“You need help with your grocery choices, that’s all. You don’t even have any crisps in the cupboard. I mean chips, you know, deep-fried sliced potatoes with salt. They come in large bags that are never quite big enough to share. Every house should always have chips in the cupboard, if only for emergencies. They’re a comfort food, a basic necessity. And there were no gherkins, you know, dill pickles,” Robyn told him.
“I’ve only been here two days and I didn’t know I was going to be having a house guest. I just bought the essentials…you know, bread and milk, pasta and fruit,” Cole said.
“That’s a staple diet for someone who always does what their mother tells them. You want two or three?” Robyn asked as she began putting sausages on a plate.
“No more than two! I can’t believe you’re barbecuing for breakfast,” Cole remarked.
“You need to get into the Michigan ways. It’s always time for a barbecue around here,” Robyn told him as she brought the plates over to the table.
“So it seems. So what are your plans for today? Still want to meet for lunch?” Cole asked.
“Delivery at eight at the r
oadhouse, visiting Dad, overseeing the decorating. Don’t you want to meet for lunch? I mean, I guess it might get too much seeing each other all the time if we’re living together…I mean, sharing a house. And people might get the wrong idea,” Robyn remarked, trying not to focus on his lips.
“We wouldn’t want them to think we were dating,” Cole said, looking up at her.
“No, we wouldn’t,” she agreed with a stiff nod.
“We could always skip lunch and go to the supermarket—do the shopping together,” Cole suggested.
“You really want to shop with me, don’t you! You’re worried I’m going to stock your ridiculously large, talking refrigerator with goodies,” Robyn said, laughing.
“Maybe a little,” Cole admitted, smiling back at her.
“Well, I promise it’s only my Aunt Pam who has a whole drawer dedicated to ice cream. But then again, she has taught me quite a lot. I can use a slow cooker, don’t you know.”
“Now you really are scaring me.”
Robyn picked a sausage up with her fingers and headed toward the backdoor.
“I’ve got to go. I told Milo he had to be in by seven-thirty to let the decorators in,” Robyn said, waving her hand at him.
“Hey! What time at the supermarket?” Cole called after her.
“I can tell you’re getting excited about this.”
“Just want to know what a girl like you likes to eat.”
“Anything and everything, with everything on it—usually with a dozen sides,” Robyn replied.
“Okay. Got that.”
“One, outside Meijer’s on Westnedge,” Robyn said, turning her back on him and retreating into the house.
“Fine.”
“But it’s not a date,” Robyn called back as she disappeared.
“Morning, Milo, you’re late. I’ll overlook it this once. Okay, here’s your uniform. Let’s put it on, see what it looks like,” Robyn said, throwing him a plastic wrapped parcel.
“What…now…here?” Milo exclaimed, looking like a terrified little boy.
“Are you kidding me? No, definitely not here! Out the back! Come and show me when you have it on and not before,” Robyn ordered.
“Sure thing,” Milo replied, taking the package and heading behind the bar.
There was a sudden banging and thumping on the door, and Robyn hurried to open it, excited about the start of the decorating. She had chosen cream for the top half of the walls and a deep plum for the bottom half with a chair rail separating the two. She wanted traditional, comfortable, and classic, something that wouldn’t date too much.
She opened the door expecting to see Martin from Decor with his painting equipment. Instead, she was face-to-face with Nancy.
Nancy was wearing a fluorescent pink, velour tracksuit. Her hair was piled high on her head and she had thick gold hooped earrings hanging from her ears. She was trailer trash personified.
“Oh,” Robyn stated, unable to hide her disappointment.
“An early riser, I see. What you doing?” Nancy asked, trying to look past Robyn into the bar.
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with. What d’you want?”
“This is for you,” Nancy said, thrusting a large box at her.
“What is it?”
“Old stuff of yours from the house. Haynes motor manuals for about a dozen cars your dad tells me he’s never owned, vintage boy’s toys, little dinky cars, a prom dress that’s seen better days and, surprisingly, no dolls. I need the space. I’ve got someone moving in to help with the bills. There’s invoices in there for this place—they need paying,” Nancy informed her.
“Who’s moving in?” Robyn wanted to know.
“That’s no concern of yours. Your dad knows all about it.”
“Does he?” Robyn asked, unconvinced.
“Yes, he does, ask him. Listen, you’ve taken this place, I’m not going to let you muscle your way into the house, too,” Nancy snarled.
“It’s Dad’s house, not yours,” Robyn stated.
“I’m his fiancée,” Nancy snapped back.
“We’ll see about that,” Robyn said, fixing Nancy with a stare.
“Whatever, sugar. Me and your dad, we have history,” Nancy answered.
“Funny enough, so do we—like twenty-five years.”
“Couple of flowery letters in there too, from Brad. Amused me all morning,” Nancy replied.
“Are we done?” Robyn asked.
“We’re done.”
Robyn dropped the box on the floor and slammed the door closed. She leaned against it and closed her eyes. Nancy was a hassle she could do without. She’d been away too long. She should have been around to make sure her dad didn’t do stupid things like hitch himself to a gold-digger.
When she opened her eyes, Milo stood in the middle of the room dressed in his black trousers and new burgundy t-shirt that read “Eddie’s Roadhouse” on the front.
“Ooo, you look cute! In a very masculine and cool way…that goes without saying. Turn around, turn around,” Robyn encouraged excitedly.
Milo turned his back to her, and Robyn clapped her hands together as she read “Eddie’s Roadhouse, Shaver Road, Portage, MI—Come here for beer and cheer.”
“I love it! Don’t you love it, Milo? It’s great!” Robyn said.
“I’m not sure about the color,” Milo replied stiffly.
“The color’s perfect. It’s the same color as the bottom half of the walls are going to be and the new sign,” Robyn told him.
“When are you planning to re-open?” Milo asked.
“Next Friday,” Robyn informed him.
“Next Friday!”
“Is that panic in your voice, Milo? I hope it isn’t panic, because I need all the help I can get, and what I don’t need is panic. In fact, panic is not even a word I want mentioned at all in this bar. I have a chef coming today, someone I’m trying to poach from another roadhouse. I have old Ada making new covers for the seats, interviews for staff, and I’ll have menus and flyers printed by the end of the week,” Robyn stated, writing things down on her list.
“What about plates and knives and forks and stuff?” Milo asked.
“Shit! Good, Milo, you’re right. We need something for people to eat with. See, this is why you’re my head bartender. Right, I need to source some plates and things. I wonder if we should have them personalized. What do you think?” Robyn asked him.
“I think I’m not sure burgundy’s really my color,” Milo replied, staring down at his t-shirt.
Chapter Thirteen
“Okay, don’t get up. I’m here with grapes. Hands up, who wants some?” Robyn announced as she entered Eddie’s hospital room and waved a bag of fruit in the air.
“Are they the ones dipped in chocolate?” Max asked, propping himself up and looking eager.
“What do you think?” Robyn asked, staring back at the wrinkled old man.
“Eddie! This can’t be your daughter. She’s bringing in healthy stuff,” Max called across the room.
Then he gasped and started having a bout of coughing. His whole body contorted, and it sounded as if he was about to heave up all of his internal organs.
“Morning, Dad,” Robyn greeted, grabbing a chair and pulling it up alongside Eddie’s bed.
He was wearing glasses and seemed to be studying the local paper. He didn’t move the paper or respond to her, he just carried on reading as if she wasn’t there. She poked him hard in the leg with her forefinger, and he didn’t even flinch.
“Nurse says you had oatmeal for breakfast,” Robyn commented.
Still no reply was forthcoming.
“Hey! Hello! I’m here! Come to see you! Brought grapes, which I think are the closest thing to sweets you can get. Put the paper down!” Robyn ordered, taking it from him.
“I hear you drive a Mustang these days and have a boyfriend already. Someone called Cole,” Eddie remarked, taking off his glasses and fixing her with a disapproving stare.
&n
bsp; “You’ve seen Brad this morning. How was he? Has he stopped behaving like a complete jerk?” Robyn asked, stuffing a handful of grapes into her mouth.
“Who is this guy you’re with? Brad thinks he’s shifty,” Eddie continued.
“Christ, Dad! I don’t have a guy. He’s a friend, that’s all. And Brad behaved like an ass last night, squaring up to people. Cole played for the Wolves, Dad, the Wolves! I have an ex-Wolves player playing for the Panthers. Isn’t that the best thing you’ve ever heard?” Robyn asked, hoping the namedropping would earn her some favor.
“Brad’s been with us a long time and he’s been good to me,” Eddie said gruffly.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I have to put up with him being an idiot?”
“He’s had things tough.”
“He’s not the only one,” Robyn stated under her breath.
“Why didn’t you want to go to dinner with him?” Eddie questioned.
“Jeez! Did he come in here and pour his heart out or something? What have you turned into, Dad? Some sort of agony aunt?” Robyn exclaimed, poking in more grapes.
“He likes you, Robyn, he’s always liked you. He’s a good guy,” Eddie stated.
“I am going to speak to the doctor about your medication. It’s changing you, turning you into someone else. We are not having a conversation like this. Next you’ll be wanting to talk about your feelings,” Robyn said.
“Nancy tells me you’ve taken over the roadhouse,” Eddie continued.
“Yes.”
“Good. She isn’t the most organized of women, but her heart’s in the right place. She’s got someone moving in to the house to help pay the bills.”
“What is it you see in that woman? I’ve seen more meat on a kebab and the attitude—well!”
“I thought you didn’t want to talk about feelings. Tell me about the team. How do they look?”
“A lot better now Cole’s playing. Henrik’s pretty amazing too,” Robyn said excitedly.