He saw the hesitation in her expression, probably trying to come up with a good excuse for him to stay put here with Brent. She nibbled her bottom lip and something triggered deep within him. Oh hell!
“I have to grab a few things and we’ll be on our way. Pops, you have a coat he can borrow?”
Brent looked Storm over from head to toe. “I might be able to dig up something.”
She nodded and left the kitchen with Storm watching the sway of her hips. Hearing the clearing of Brent’s throat, Storm jerked his head up. He placed his cup in the sink next to Charlie’s and hooked his thumbs into his front pockets. “I don’t think she wants me along today.”
Brent waved a wrinkled hand through the air. “She won’t mind. You’ll keep her company.” He popped another piece of bacon into his mouth, chewing slowly as if savoring the goodness. Storm lifted a brow in accusation. “Don’t tell her,” Brent whispered.
“Not my place, but I have a feeling she already knows.”
****
Upstairs, Charlie leaned against the bathroom sink and stared at her reflection in the mirror. What was wrong with her father? Why would he put her on the spot like that? She didn’t need anyone, especially Storm, shadowing her today. What would he know about helping in a restaurant?
She knew exactly who Storm Rich was. He was the country star extraordinaire. When she couldn’t sleep last night, and her mind was bombarded with feeling like she knew Storm from somewhere, she’d scrolled through some of her father’s old country-western magazines, and just as she’d thought…she had seen Storm before. So why didn’t she mention it to him this morning that she knew what he did for a living? Probably for the same reason he didn’t mention it to her what he did for a living.
She wondered if her father had any clue?
No, not possible. The only musicians he listened to were Meryl and Elvis. If it wasn’t for her the same music would play on a loop at the diner. She wasn’t much into country music, but something told her she would have more of an inclination to give it a try now.
She cringed.
Darn weather. Why did it have to come in so fast and carry a six-foot, brawny cowboy with it? And why did she care? She’d helped many people over the years. But none looked like Storm and made her dizzy.
She lived a less than glamorous life here in Palms. A man like Storm must be used to finer digs and everyone catering to his needs. Well, he certainly wouldn’t be treated like a star by her. If he gave her that smile again, the one he was famous for, she might slap him into yesterday. If he thought for a second that honeyed charm could influence her, he was mistaken. She didn’t want him to think she was one of those women who swooned over his dimpled smile, or the sparkle in his eye. Even the huskiness of his voice that bled over into his music, as described by the magazine, wouldn’t get past her barrier.
She grabbed her toothbrush and put a dollop of paste on the bristles, humming along to an upbeat tune. She almost dropped her brush. Why the hell couldn’t she get Storm Rich’s latest song out of her head? She knew she should have never watched his videos that morning on YouTube. Who could blame her? She was curious…that was all. She had the Storm Rich under her roof and just wanted to see what he looked like in his videos. He looked better in person, if she said so herself, not that he was her type of man. It’d take all day to explore his coiled muscles. Who had that much time on their hands?
Giggling, she finished her teeth and went downstairs, finding him waiting for her by the door. He was wearing a thick coat and the sleeves were about three inches too short. The material barely buttoned across his wide chest. “I’m glad Pops found something for you.”
“It’s a little tight.” He straightened his arms and a seam ripped. “Oops.”
She bit back a smile. “At least you won’t freeze.”
“My wrists might. I’m not complaining. Only saying.” He sighed.
“Sure sounded like complaining to me.” She didn’t even dare look at him. Why was she a bear this morning? She knew exactly why. The waves of desire crashing through her were hard to handle. If she didn’t hold them tight she might very well expose the fact that she wanted to kiss him. Charlie Lindon kissing Storm Rich? Ha! She wasn’t his type any more than he was hers. She’d done a little research that morning. Google told her everything she needed to know. Although he was single at the moment, the beautiful actress, Gabriella Tate, had been seen on his arm lately.
Charlie suddenly became very aware of her misbehaving hair, her ruddy complexion, and her breasts that were firm, but nowhere near Gabriella’s double D’s.
Charlie had never cared before. She certainly wouldn’t start now.
Once she had on her own coat, boots, and hat, she led the way through the snow covered path that would take them to the restaurant.
“Must be nice having work just a hop and a skip from your house,” he said. Puffs of clouds filtered around his head as he spoke.
“It’s certainly not a bad thing.” She tightened her coat against the blustery cold.
“I want to say thank you again for your help. I wouldn’t have lasted all night in the truck.”
“You weren’t doing much thinking, were you?”
“What do you mean?”
She kept her gaze steady ahead. “You should never drive in this weather. It’s dangerous. No coat. No proper clothing.”
“Ah, come on. I took your words last night to heart. I’ve learned my lesson and will never drive in bad weather again.”
“I have a feeling you haven’t learned a thing.” She was glad when the restaurant finally came into view.
“Did I say something last night that has made you angry?”
She flipped a glance over her shoulder. “I’m not angry.”
“Really? Then why have you been eyeing me like you could skewer me for the last ten minutes?”
Get control of yourself, girl. “I think I have a slight hangover. I’m not much of a drinker.” They approached the door and she took the keys out of her pocket.
“I slept like a baby. I don’t remember ever sleeping that good.”
“Lucky you.” She’d managed a good two hours of sleep. Pushing through the glass door, she stomped the snow off her feet and switched on the lights. Crossing around to the back of the counter, she placed her coat and hat underneath, noticing that he was still standing by the door. “You can come in.”
His cheeks were pink and his lips a pale blue. “I don’t know. You have all kinds of sharp tools at your disposal. You might decide to use one on me.”
“You must think I don’t like you.”
“At least you’re smiling now. That’s making me feel better.”
She didn’t realize she was smiling. “Okay. First, I’m not angry with you. Second, thank you for coming to help. I’m sure it’s out of your element.”
“Sort of.”
She grabbed her clean white apron from a hook on the wall, pulled it on and tied the back. “Here’s you one too.” She grabbed the other and tossed it to him. He caught it against his chest.
He removed the too-tight coat and slid into the apron. She had an urge to take a picture. He was cute no matter what he wore. “You’re serious about making me work.” He chuckled.
“Never pass up free labor.” She winked.
“Can I use the phone first?”
“Suit yourself,” she took the cordless from under the counter and handed it to him. “but don’t get your hopes up.” She spun on her heel and walked into the kitchen. A second later, she heard Storm’s growled curse and she smiled. She peeked through the window into the dining area. “Still not working?”
“Nope.”
“You okay?” she asked.
“I’ll live.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“That wasn’t convincing. How about I grab you a slice of heaven?”
One brow snapped up. “I would question your ability to give me a piece of heaven, but after last night with the pr
esent, I think it’s best I don’t question your capabilities.”
“I see you’re still wearing it.”
He held up his wrist. “Of course. So what’s this heaven you’re tempting me with?”
“It’s only a slice of our famous brownie pie. I promise, if anything bad is happening in our lives, a piece of that sin in a crust is an instant pain reliever. I’ll even throw in a scoop of our homemade vanilla bean ice cream.”
“Dessert at eight in the morning. I like the way you think.” He rubbed his hands together and sat at the bar.
She had a strong urge to comfort him. Obviously, he needed to get to where he was going, but he hadn’t yet confessed where that was. That didn’t bother her, not entirely. There was something else—something far more dangerous—that needled at her.
Last night, while she bandaged him up and while they were sitting at the table, she’d felt something strong, overwhelming—a reminder of the things she missed. For three years she’d only allowed people so close before she pulled away. Even with her father. She hadn’t allowed herself to entertain any thought about relationships, or simply going to a movie with a man, having a nice dinner. But last night, after shed finally fallen asleep, she’d had dreams of Storm—a complete stranger with sexy eyes and a spectacular smile. Yeah, she’d noticed, even this morning when she’d come downstairs and saw him leaning against the counter, her counter in her kitchen, with his black T-shirt fitting him like a second skin. The cotton clung to every coiled muscle, every masculine dip. The worn jeans did wonders for his long legs. She thought she’d done an excellent job of pretending she didn’t notice how good he looked or smelled, but it wasn’t every day she had a man, besides her father, in her home.
Placing a piece of pie on a plate, she scooped ice cream on top, grabbed a fork and took it out to him. He was rubbing his thumb and forefinger along his chin—the layer of crisp, dark hair. His hat was gone and his hair was finger combed into silken waves. She’d never seen sexy come so effortlessly. “Here you are. Enjoy!” she said a little too fast.
“Where’s yours?” he asked.
“I’ll just watch you—I mean—I won’t stare…I’ll just stand over here and make the coffee.” Oh brother.
She could barely get her shaking fingers to function as she scooped coffee granules into the filter and filled the canister with water. She stabbed the power button and steam sifted from the sides—much like her internal circus.
CHAPTER FIVE
Storm finished his pie. It was the best he’d ever had.
He watched Charlie stacking cups and his gaze naturally fell over the indentation of her slender waist and the firm curve of her rounded bottom. His fingers ached and he placed them flat on the cool counter.
He finished off his coffee when she leaned against the counter, watching him with her expressive eyes. Could she see into his thoughts? Damn he sure hoped not. That could be treacherous. She licked her lips and heat slammed into his chest. What he wouldn’t give to have those lips and tongue on him. He blew out a long breath.
“How was it?”
He wrapped his brain around her question, having a hard time concentrating. He’d been focused on the slight pink in her cheeks and the delicious curve of her bottom lip. All natural and lovely. “Enjoyable.” There was a slight choked sound to his voice.
“Another coffee?” she offered.
“Better not. One more and I might be down on the floor washing it.”
She grinned, showing off a twinkle in her eye, then cleared her throat and her smile dissolved. “I have a confession to make.”
“A confession? We’ve only known each other twelve hours.” He sat back on the stool, hooking his thumbs in his front pockets. “That must be a record breaker.”
“I know who you are.”
He held his breath, then forced air into his lungs. “You do?”
“We do have cable TV and newspapers here under this rock. Although, I didn’t recognize you immediately. I hope that doesn’t deflate your ego.”
He knew this was bound to happen. “I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret. I just thought it was refreshing that you didn’t,” he admitted. A sinking feeling rose in his chest. He didn’t need to say anything more. What could he say? Facts were facts.
“It’s okay. I don’t blame you for not introducing yourself as Storm Rich the famous country singer. I’m sure being careful comes with the business.”
“You know who I am and haven’t asked for my autograph or a song dedicated to you. I’m not sure if I should be flattered or disappointed.” He leaned in on his elbows.
“You get that a lot? People walking up asking for your autograph? Maybe that’s a silly question.”
“More times than I can count. Just last month a woman approached me in the airport asking if I would sign her, uhh, chest.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “Wow. That would take a lot of guts.”
“Asking or me signing?”
“Both.” She laughed. “Do you oblige those awkward requests?”
“I—”
The bell above the door dinged, cutting off any chance for him to finish his answer. Best he didn’t.
Charlie tossed the towel onto the sink. “Harvey? What are you doing out in this weather? Please tell me you didn’t walk.”
The elderly man slowly made his way to the counter. He hung his walker over a bar stool. “You know I wouldn’t miss my eggs and toast made by my special girl.” He gave her a wink. “You and the fresh air are what keeps this old heart ticking.” He then looked at Storm. “We have a visitor?”
“Harvey Peterson, this is Storm. He’s only passing through. He ran his truck into a ditch last night.”
“Oh, I thought you would finally tell me you’ve gone and met someone.” Harvey slid on the stool next to Storm. “Understand, I’m not too old to fight for a pretty girl if I have to. But it’s nice to meet you, young man.”
“Harvey, you know I’m saving my heart for you. You don’t talk Storm’s ear off too much while I’m making your eggs, you hear?” Charlie teased as she poured a cup of coffee and placed it in front of Harvey.
“Me? Why would I ever do that? I don’t like to talk,” Harvey said with a sniff then a mischievous grin.
Once Charlie had disappeared inside the kitchen, the older man leaned in close to Storm and whispered, “She’s a catch, if you get my drift. You’d be one lucky man to grab onto her.”
“I’m sure she is, but like she said, I’m only passing through. I’ll be gone by tomorrow.” A pain swept through his gut. He didn’t care for the conflicting emotion flying through him. Storm heard the clattering of pans in the kitchen.
“I’ve lived here in this town all my life. Charlie’s father was my best friend in school, still is. The family has suffered too much tragedy.” Harvey reached for the pink packages of sugar. His hands were gnarled and curved, and he slowly and carefully ripped the packets open, dumping the contents into the cup.
Storm glanced toward the window into the kitchen where he caught a glimpse of Charlie moving about. He doubted she could hear them talking. “What do you mean?”
Harvey stirred his coffee and tapped the spoon against the rim of the cup. “First, it was Brent’s wife. They were as happy as a baby snug in a blanket, I tell you. When he lost her I thought he’d never recover, but he had his daughter and Sunny that pulled him through.”
“Was Sunny her husband?” Storm asked, nodding toward the kitchen.
“No. Her daughter.” Harvey’s eyes filled with sadness. “They lost her too.”
A heaviness spread over Storm’s chest, feeling like he’d been kicked by a horse. He forced air into his lungs and exhaled slowly. “Her daughter?”
Harvey nodded. “She was the spitting image of her mom, just turned five.” He shrugged as if to push off the sorrow.
Storm rubbed his forehead. An ache started at his temples and oozed down his neck. He didn’t know Charlie well, but his protective side grew b
y leaps and bounds. How does one lose a child and recover? He realized how strong she must be and his respect grew for her.
Yet, now he understood what ghosts she was referring to last night.
****
Charlie heard the bell above the door ring. She looked up from wiping down the counter. “Hel—” The greeting fizzled on her lips and her stomach tightened. Why today of all days did Billy have to show up? Had he gotten wind that a stranger was in town? She doubted his visit had anything to do with him being hungry.
He strolled in, smiling arrogantly, and took a seat at the corner booth. She didn’t hurry over. Usually her father took his order so she wouldn’t have to face Billy—or have to go anywhere close to him. Did he think she’d ever forget? That it was possible? Did he think she’d ever take him back? He’d told her several times lately, over the phone, that he wanted a family again, with her, but he didn’t understand that their family disintegrated.
Truth was, she didn’t even miss him. They’d split up when Sunny was two and, although he had been a halfway decent father to her for the first few years of her life, after he left he’d practically forgotten that either of them still existed. She never even really thought about Billy, not anymore. Not unless he happened into the diner or made a midnight phone call. Usually, she brushed off his appearance, but today it irritated her even more because he had a motive outside of getting her back. She knew him too well.
Bumping off the counter, she made her way to the booth, passing the table where Storm sat filling the sugar containers. By his expression, he’d rather be pulling teeth. She approached Billy and he winked. “Hi, sweetheart.”
She cringed. “I’m not your sweetheart.” His smile grew. He was a nice looking man, charming when he wanted to be. That’s why she’d crushed on him back in high school. They’d seen each other off and on through college, but nothing serious. However, when she’d gotten pregnant and told him the news, he’d wanted her to get an abortion, but she refused. He’d eventually called, wanting to see their daughter, assuring her he had every intention of being a good father. “What can I get for you?”
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