23. Willa
Chapter 23
Willa
I HAVEN’T WAITED tables in a good six weeks—not since I first met Reid, come to think of it—but I’m out front again today. Goldie’s out of town and it’s September, so things are on their way back toward off-season busy instead of insane summer busy. Happily, we’re never fully quiet here at the diner, and that’s just how I like it. The busier the better, actually.
Except when I’m waiting tables. And then, I’ll take a desert. I don’t understand how people can just walk around with a tray full of food or drinks and simply…not drop them. Like, how is that possible?
And yet, it’s possible for everyone except me.
We’re in the middle of the lunch rush when Officer Thompson comes in by himself and has a seat at one of the booths.
I’m a little annoyed, if I’m being honest. He’s by himself and taking up a four-top? Inconsiderate ass. Though, to be sure, he’s always been that way. Which still doesn’t excuse him. Not by a long shot.
I grab the coffee and a cup before heading his way, setting the cup down and filling it. “How are you, Officer? ”
He grunts. “Patty melt with fries and onion rings. And a water.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I’m fine, Willa. Thanks for asking. And how are you?”
He blinks up at me.
I smile back at him. “Conversation in polite society. You remember how that goes?”
He blinks again.
“Guess that’s a no. Got it!” I say breezily, then turn away.
Mom’s eyes are wide as I walk behind the counter to call the order out to Dad and hang the ticket on the wheel. “Willa Dean Dash!” she whisper-hisses.
“What?” I ask.
“Since when do you talk like that to, well, to anyone , let alone one of our men in uniform?”
I open my mouth to object, but close it. She’s right. “Huh. Guess that’s new, isn’t it?” I fill a glass with ice and water for Thompson, then toast Mom with it.
I keep moving, trying not to drop anything or trip over my own two feet. Not ten minutes later, Officer Thompson’s food is ready. I grab it and begin walking it to the booth, then slow. Another man with slicked-back hair has joined him. He looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t place him. He smiles as I get close, but it’s more of a leer as he sweeps his eyes up and down my body.
Ew .
“Patty melt with fries,” I announce as I set the plate down, “and a side of onion rings,” and place the other down.
“And who is this pretty little thing?” Creepy Man drawls.
“Excuse me?”
“You’ll have to forgive him.” Officer Thompson’s gaze never leaves his table mate. “He doesn’t seem to have manners.”
The creep doesn’t appear to be bothered by Thompson in the slightest. He slithers out of the booth, forcing me to step back and nearly fall into the table behind me, as he leers again. “Maybe I’ll see you around.” His breath is stale as he winks at me.
I try not to gag.
“Box this up.” Officer Thompson gestures at his plate as the other guy leaves.
I stare at the cop and remind myself that he’s a customer. Nah, screw it. “The word you’re looking for is ‘please’.”
He rolls his eyes. “Please.”
I grab the plates and pivot away, furious and also entirely freaked out. Mom eyes me as I return and grab a to-go box.
“Something wrong with the food?”
Then I remember the booth is the only one hidden from where Mom works at the counter, and I have to wonder if he chose that spot on purpose.
I shake myself. I’ve spent too much time around Reid: I’m finding suspicious behavior lurking behind every corner. And Thompson may be an asshole, but he’s an asshole who’s a police officer.
Naturally, he leaves no tip.
The next few hours fly by, and soon enough, I’m helping Dad clean the kitchen and get a few things prepped for tomorrow. Before long, he shoos me away. “I’ve got other people who work here, you know,” he chides.
“Yeah, but how many of them can slice a tomato that pretty?” I joke, untying my apron and giving him a kiss on his fleshy cheek. He smells of Old Spice and the grill, a scent that is perfectly Dad in the best kind of way. “Love you, Dad.”
He squeezes me to his side. “Love you too, Pumpkin. Now get out of here.”
I give Mom a hug as well, reveling in her strong embrace. The woman is a championship hug-giver, and I make sure to get at least one per shift.
At home, I find Reid in the backyard like always, Midnight frolicking around him. The kitten’s cast is entirely off, thanks to Matty’s care. She darts up to me, batting at my shoelaces as I close the distance to Hottie Boombalottie playing guitar in the Adirondack chair.
“Hey, you.” I sink into his lap as he sets the guitar aside.
He nuzzles my neck. “You don’t smell nearly as much like onion rings as you normally do.”
I laugh. “Because I waitressed today.”
He pulls away. “Did anyone get hurt?”
“Meanie,” I giggle, attempting to swat at him.
He captures my hand with his and brings it to his lips, kissing it instead.
I will not fall for him. I will not fall for him goes through my head. But who am I kidding? I fell for the guy pretty much right after I almost literally fell for him.
Then I sniff. “Wait a minute.”
He raises his eyebrows and grins. “I was wondering when you’d smell that.”
I look around. “Since when did your rental house come with a smoker?”
“Since I had Bob from the hardware store deliver and assemble it for me this morning,” comes the smug answer.
“And what, pray tell, is in there?”
“Oh, come on now. You can’t use your highly-trained sniffer to figure that out?”
I purse my lips. “Fine.” Then I stand up, pick Midnight up for a cuddle, and take a few steps toward the smoker on the back porch.
“No cheating!” Reid calls.
“Ribs,” I announce, turning to him triumphantly.
“That’s my girl,” he says with a grin. He wraps an arm around me and leads me to the grill, but I’m still trying to process what just came out of his mouth.
That’s my girl ?
Since when ?
And why did my stupid heart soar at the phrase?
He opens the smoker for my inspection. “It’ll be ready soon. Plenty of time for you to take a shower.”
I smile up at him and take the kiss he plants on my temple. This whole scene feels oddly…domestic.
Then again, what have we been doing the past few weeks but playing house?
I have got to get better about this.
I slide out from beneath his arm. “Sounds good.” I ignore the confused look on his face as I head inside for a shower, but deposit Midnight on the ground before going in. At least one female can give him love without expecting anything in return.
Freshly showered, I go back outside to find that Reid has put together a picnic. I join him at the table, grinning and forcing myself out of the sullen mood I’d been in. “This looks wonderful.”
He sets a beer down in front of me with a flourish. It’s a classic set-up: pork ribs dripping with what I assume is homemade sauce, potato salad, thick slices of white bread, and baked beans.
“Not gonna lie, I hope these are good,” he says. “It’s been a while since I’ve smoked anything, and I didn’t have as long to do it as I’d like.”
I take a bite. “They’re delicious.”
He preens.
“I could have done better, obviously,” I tease him, “but not bad for a guy from Florida.”
We eat and talk, studiously avoiding any topic that might lead to a deeper discussion on my part.
“That was delicious.” I lick the sauce from my fingers, delighting in the way his eyes darken as they watch.
“You should be careful with the way you’re using that tongue, Willa,” he warns .
I grin. “Come on. Let’s clean all this up and we’ll see what else I have to lick.”
Later, after a round of sex in which he had me screaming his name so many times I lost count, I remember the encounter with Thompson and the creep at the diner.
“You okay?” Reid asks, his eyes searching mine.
I shift in his arms. “Yeah. Just remembering something at work today.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Nah.” He has to work with Thompson, and I don’t want to make things awkward between the two of them. I reach down to grab his dick. “I have a better idea.”