17. Willa
Chapter 17
Willa
M Y FIRST THOUGHT upon waking is how sore I am, followed immediately by wondering if I’d been drugged. I slept like a rock. Easily the best sleep in years.
Is this how I sleep after having orgasms? If so, I clearly need more of them in my life.
I stretch and extend my arm, fully expecting it to land on a deliciously hard chest. One that’s connected to a set of abs I’d like to lick. Instead, I find a cold mattress.
Oh.
Fighting the urge to make myself small, I pull the covers over me and sit up, looking around like I’m going to find him, even though I can tell by the sound of the house that he’s gone. The sensation of knowing I’m here, alone, is gutting.
This was a mistake.
I make quick work of getting dressed, and even though I know no one is here, I still tiptoe out. The battle to stand tall and strong is lost, and I’m as tiny and insignificant as the little black kitten I find curled up on her bed in the living room, asleep .
He left Midnight. Maybe this is his way of telling me that I need to forget this ever happened. Which, fair, but I can’t promise that future men won’t have a heck of a high bar to meet in the bedroom.
I peek out the back door, scouting far and wide for any signs of Reid, Agatha, or anyone else. The coast is clear. I sprint across his backyard and onto the driveway that leads to my little cottage. It’s only when I’m inside, my heart bruised and unsure, that I realize how much I wanted to see Reid out there waiting, fresh takeout coffee from the coffee shop in hand, smiling and popping those glorious dimples of his as he wished me good morning.
Guess not.
I inhale deeply, shake my whole body like it’s going to get rid of the feel of him, and take a shower. It doesn’t work. With every minute that goes by, another ghost of his touch passes over my skin. Memories of last night slam into me, one after the other, until I’m a pathetic mess.
It’s absolutely slammed at work. It’s too busy for me to be distracted, but distracted I am. On top of that, everyone else is just as off-kilter as me. I mess up orders and put us behind, but all he does is grunt and keep going. Even Tom and Jerry aren’t here.
The whole thing feels odd.
A couple hours into opening, JJ comes in. My ears perk up when Mom asks him why he looks so disheveled.
“There was a massive wreck just outside of town,” he answers, pulling the steaming cup of coffee toward him like it’s going to save his life.
“Willa,” Dad says. “Hash browns.”
I wave him off, my attention riveted on JJ. “You flip ‘em. Not like you weren’t cooking by yourself for years before I got here.”
He harrumphs but doesn’t argue, and I refocus back on the counter .
“Too early to tell what really happened, but it’s a four-car wreck. No fatalities?—”
“Amen,” the full counter offers.
“Amen,” JJ answers. “But at least two went to the hospital. Every officer in a twenty-five-mile radius got called to the scene to help out.”
So that’s where Reid is. But knowing it doesn’t make me feel any better; it does the opposite. I’m absolutely certain I’m being a brat about the situation, but I welcome it. Anything to protect myself.
“Willa.” Dad’s voice is stern. “There are knives and fifty ways to Sunday to get yourself burned back here. Either do your job or get out of my kitchen.”
Ouch. But he’s right. Same as Reid is apparently doing his. I turn back to the griddle, throwing a serving of hash browns on, then cracking eggs for a bird’s nest over easy. I plate the browns, then grab four slices of white bread, running them over the butter mill before plopping them down on the far right of the griddle.
“Drop four waffles, two Bennies, and pull four links,” comes Goldie’s voice from behind me. Then, “What is this? Willa, I needed them scrambled, not...whatever this is.”
I turn to grab the offending plate without missing a beat. “Gimme sixty,” I say, then hustle to scramble the eggs and drop them onto the griddle. Flip the toast, pull off the hash browns, scoop the bird’s nest, and plate the eggs to hand back to Goldie. “Hang on, and I’ll give you table ten.”
She raises an eyebrow, but stays in place. In moments, the other meals are plated, and she’s off.
I grab another ticket, but I can’t stop the niggling worry at the back of my head. He’s a cop.
A very hot cop with out-of-this-world-talent, but a cop nonetheless. The job is inherently dangerous, even in a tiny town like ours .
And he’s leaving. I have to remember that. Two more months, and he’s gone. I can’t let myself fall for this guy, King of Orgasms or not.
“Focus, Willa,” I mutter, then stride to the walk-in to grab another bin of sausages. Disappearing in the middle of the night might be standard for a police officer. Is that something I’m prepared to deal with?
It doesn’t matter. Two months. That’s it.
The shift is seventy-billion years long. I check my phone like the loser I am, hoping for a text from Reid, but there’s nothing. I pull off my apron and toss it into the bin with a sigh.
“Okay, what is with you?” Goldie asks, sidling up to me from nowhere and pinning me with those gold-flecked eyes of hers. “Something’s happened, but we were too busy for me to ask.”
“I—” I start, then clamp my mouth shut.
“Come on,” Goldie wheedles, poking at my side to get me to smile. “This isn’t like you. Tell your little sis Goldie and let her fix it.”
I can’t help the small laugh that escapes me. “I’m not ready to talk about it, O Great One,” I say, forcing a grin to ease the sting. “Can I get back to you?”
Her face falls. “Oh. Okay. Sure.”
Something tells me I should probably talk to her, but all I want to do is go home and bury myself under my blankets. After a shower.
Reid’s truck is in his driveway when I get home. I can’t remember if it was there this morning or not, but it doesn’t matter. I make a point of staring straight ahead when I walk down the driveway and into my house. And sure, I should probably be a good kitten parent and go ask for Midnight, but I just…I can’t. I don’t want to know if he’s in his house being all sexy and broody, or if he’s sitting outside doing the same, strumming on his guitar like a long-lost country singer .
For the record, I don’t much like country music, unless it’s coming out of Reid MacKinnon’s mouth.
The door snicks shut behind me without so much as a peep from next door. Probably for the best.
I put my phone on mute and leave it charging in the kitchen. Then I head for the shower.