Chapter Two
S loan’s shoulders ached, and she was reasonably sure that her feet had signed off over an hour ago.
Her most comfortable shoes couldn’t hold up to an eight-hour shift at the diner.
She’d thought she’d been prepared, ready to face anything Marge and her customers could throw at her. She’d been wrong.
The very thought made her want to cry.
She stared at herself in the mirror of the tiny employee bathroom.
One hour left. One hour and you can limp home and curl up with a blanket and cry yourself to sleep .
Millions of people held down jobs like this one— harder than this one.
She should have been able to manage this without bringing herself to the brink.
Reality was nowhere near as positive. In reality, everything hurt and she was constantly terrified that she’d make a mistake that would have Marge showing her the door.
Splashing a little water on her face didn’t do a single thing to center her.
But there was no hope for it. She had an hour left in her shift, and for a diner in a tiny town, this place saw an overwhelming amount of business.
Apparently hiring the new girl in town was part of Marge’s business strategy because the entire population must have stopped by at one time or another.
Most of them openly gawked at her, making her feel like a freak show.
Not too far from the truth .
She made an effort to keep her spine straight as she walked out of the bathroom and headed for the kitchen. A couple of fisherman had ordered fish and chips, and their meals should be ready by now.
Luke smiled when he saw her coming. It took her half the day to realize he was Marge’s husband and that they owned this place together.
He was as tall as his wife, but built leaner, more like a blade than a blunt object.
He was kinder, too, always offering an easy smile or an uplifting word.
God help her, but Sloan couldn’t help waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Kindness for the sake of kindness wasn’t something in her realm of experience.
Luke plated the fish and chips and scooted the food toward her. “You’re doing great for your first day.”
“Thank you.” She caught herself hunching her shoulders and stopped. “I’ll just get these out.”
“Sloan.”
She froze in the middle of picking up the two plates, and turned to face Marge. Excuses bubbled up— I’m doing the best I can! —but she didn’t let them past her lips. She cleared her throat. “Yes?”
Marge surveyed her, the big woman’s hands on her hips. “Take the rest of your shift off. I can handle it from here.”
No. Oh God, don’t fire me . She kept her death grip on the plates. Show no fear . “Ma’am, I haven’t complained, haven’t dropped anything, and I haven’t messed up a single order.”
Marge raised her eyebrows. “I’m not blind, girl.
I know. You did good today—you even helped me haul in those massive bags of flour without whining.
But if you stand for another minute longer, you’re going to keel over and then you’re no good to anyone.
Take the rest of the day off and be back at seven tomorrow. ”
She blinked, hardly daring to believe it. “I did…good?”
“Don’t make me say it again. Git.” Marge took the plates out of her hands and strode through the doorway into the main dining area.
Luke chuckled. “That’s my girl—as subtle as a two-by-four to the side of the head. Don’t let her scare you. She’s got a soft spot a mile wide.”
“Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.” Sloan rubbed a hand over her face, exhaustion weighing her down. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Luke.”
“Hey.” He waited for her to look at him before continuing.
“Soak your feet and do some walking or something or your muscles will tighten up and you’ll be a mess tomorrow.
There’s a yoga class one of the local girls, Jessica, runs out on the beach every morning at sunrise.
” There was no mistaking the concern in his eyes. “Might be something you could use.”
Apparently for all her training at hiding what she was feeling, she’d done a poor job of it in this new setting.
Sloan opened her mouth to beg off, but reconsidered.
She couldn’t spend the rest of her life hiding in a borrowed beach house in between shifts and wandering the coast alone.
At some point she’d have to actually meet the people she served food to.
And I could use some of the peace yoga is supposed to bring .
She managed a smile. “I’ll try it out.”
“Good.” He held up a container with another smile. “Now do as Marge says and git.”
Judging from the heavenly smells wafting from the container, it was some of the very same fish and chips she’d just been about to deliver. Sloan took it, the feeling of being at a loss only getting worse. “Is food a perk of the job Marge neglected to mention?”
Luke gave her a strange look. “I’m not sure where you came from, but we take care of our own in Callaway Rock.
You worked hard and don’t think I missed the fact you haven’t eaten since you started your shift.
You need to keep up your energy.” He started to pat her on the shoulder, but stopped the motion when she flinched.
“Get some rest. We’ll see you in the morning. ”
Sloan walked out of the diner feeling more confused than ever. She’d known this little town in Oregon wasn’t anything like back home, but right now it didn’t seem like it was on the same planet.
She kicked off her shoes as soon as she hit the stairs leading down to the beach, and couldn’t stop a tiny moan of relief.
She walked over the sand toward her house, which was fast becoming a home, and slowed to watch the people around her.
The beach wasn’t crowded by any means, but there was a group of teenagers lounging in the meager Oregon sunlight, the girls in bikinis and the boys throwing a Frisbee.
They all looked so carefree, it actually made her heart ache.
She’d never been like that as a teenager.
No, ever since she could remember, she was aware of the fate awaiting her because of the family she’d been born into.
The O’Malley sons might grow up to take their place within the family business, both legal and illicit, but there was only one role Seamus O’Malley had for his daughters—marriage to the man most likely to accumulate power for the family.
Her sister Carrigan had bucked that rule and been exiled as a result. Sloan shook her head and resumed walking. Exiled . Here in Callaway Rock, it seemed impossible that such a thing even existed anymore, let alone in the US.
If we’d been born a fisherman’s family instead of a mob boss’s, Devlin would still be alive .
The pain in her chest that never quite went away grew at the thought, made worse by a young family playing in the surf.
The mother sat with a baby beneath an umbrella, and the father chased his toddler through the shallow water.
Sloan could hear the little girl’s giggles from where she stood, but the sound only made her melancholy worse.
Stop it. You left it all behind by choice. Any children you decide to have won’t grow up to be pawns in a game they want no part of .
Children.
The very idea was ludicrous. She could barely take care of herself right now, let alone herself and a tiny human who depended solely on her for survival. Frankly, she didn’t like the theoretical child’s chances.
When she’d left the diner, all she’d wanted was to go home and close a door between her and the rest of the world, but as soon as she’d showered and picked at the meal Luke packed for her, a restlessness had her pacing through the small house.
She looked at the fireplace, considered building a fire, but then realized she had no idea how to go about doing that other than throwing some wood and paper in the fireplace and lighting it. Maybe that’s all it takes?
Frustrated with yet another thing she didn’t know without resorting to Google, she walked out the back door and onto the porch.
Sloan tilted her head back and inhaled deeply, muscles she hadn’t even been aware were tense relaxing one by one from the combination of briny air and the soft crash of the waves.
“This. This is why I came here.”
Freedom .
If it came with costs, well, what thing worth having didn’t?
A throat cleared near her and she opened her eyes to find Jude on his porch as well, a beer dangling from his big hand.
Everything about the man was massive. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall, and even with several yards between them, he dwarfed her.
Today, his long hair was down in careless waves that her fingers were itching to dig into.
Sloan clenched her hands. What was wrong with her? Not only had she just met this man, he’d been nothing short of hostile in the single interaction they’d had. She should not be eyeing the slice of his chest revealed through his unbuttoned shirt—did the man ever dress himself properly?—and yet…
And yet.
You said you were going to start living. He could be another step in the right direction .
She’d never had a fling. Sloan wasn’t the type of girl who was interested in that sort of thing, and the knowledge of what her father planned for her had kept her from allowing anyone too close for fear that it would end in heartbreak.
That and the single time a boy had asked her out, all four of her brothers had cornered him and scared the ever-loving daylights out of him.
Word had gotten around after that, and there had been no second offers.
Neither of her sisters seemed to let that stand in their way, but Sloan was different.
She was the one who kept her head down. The dutiful daughter, the quiet sister, the one who never stepped a foot outside of what was good and proper.
Until now.
She bolstered what little courage she had and made her way off her porch to the stairs leading up to Jude’s. “Good evening.”