20. The Angry Beaver
TWENTY
THE ANGRY BEAVER
Lach
I stir awake. Every muscle in my body hurts as if I moved an entire townhouse into a moving truck. Oh. Wait. I did. Then my muscles grew more tense when Pax unexpectedly appeared. It took everything in me not to break his nose with Eve’s vibrator.
Eve stretches, pressing her ass into my dick.
I pull her closer to me, running my nose over her cheek. “Don’t start something if you don’t intend to finish,” I whisper.
“Mmm. I want nothing more, but I hurt. Everywhere.”
I laugh. “Same. What do you say we finish packing and hit the road? If there’s no traffic and we drive straight through, it’s only a fourteen-and-a-half-hour drive.”
“Ugh. Wishful thinking. Probably closer to seventeen or eighteen.”
“Either way, the sooner we get moving, the sooner we can get coffee and food.”
“You really know the way to my heart, but it has to be at some small roadside diner. Those are my favorite.”
“Deal.” I press a kiss to her cheek before rolling off the mattress.
After we’re ready for the day, we pack the last of the items into the truck. Eve stands at the end of the sidewalk, staring at her townhouse. I’m not sure if she’s sad she’s leaving or if it’s a different emotion. I move to stand next to her. My arm brushes against hers, and she peers up at me.
“Are you ready to go?”
She nods. “Yeah. I am. Take me home, Lach.”
Wordlessly, I round the rear of the truck, and Eve takes the passenger side. We both climb in, and I start the engine. I type the address into my GPS and shift into drive. Eve twists away from the side window to face me with a wide grin. It’s one of her bright, genuine smiles. I’m glad I get to spend this time with her. It almost feels as if we could be real. Then I remember she’s my best friend’s sister. I turn my attention to the road and step on the gas.
An hour into our drive on I-75 North, Eve turns down the radio and faces me. “I’m ready to cash in on your promise of coffee and food.”
I glance at her. “Yeah. Where do you want to stop?”
She pulls out her phone and types on the screen. I glance from her to the road while she scrolls.
“Oh, I got it! It’s about fifteen minutes up the road. The Angry Beaver Diner.”
“That’s an interesting name.”
“It reminds me of the cartoon when I was a kid. Did you ever watch it?”
I shake my head. “Nope. I didn’t watch a lot of television growing up. So that’s where you want to stop?” I change the subject, not wanting her to ask questions about my childhood. I closed that door a long time ago, and I’d rather not open it up again.
“Yeah. It looks charming.” She holds out her phone toward me.
I peel my gaze off the road and look at her screen. It’s a picture of a diner with black-and-white checkered flooring, red booths, and a counter that runs half the length of the room.
“You like places like that?”
She lowers her phone. “I do. I like the small-town vibe. Plus, I guarantee this is the type of place only the locals frequent. There’s always some woman with curly white hair named Betty serving coffee. There’s the chatter of cooks calling out orders and servers carrying plates full of short stacks. It’s my happy place.”
I glance at her from the corner of my eye. As she stares out the window, I can’t fight the smile that tickles my lips. If a diner will make her happy, I’ll give her all the diners from here back to Harbor Highlands.
I spot the oversized cartoon beaver sign from half a mile away. I pull into the full parking lot of The Angry Beaver. If all the locals are here, I suspect it’s the entire town. Luckily, I find a parking spot in the far corner which may or may not be an actual parking spot. I jump out and round the rear, meeting Eve. We stroll side by side to the glass double doors. With my hand on the metal handle, I hold the door open for Eve to lead the way, and I follow a step behind her. Servers hustle past us with plates lining their arms as we wait next to the Please Wait To Be Seated sign. This place is exactly how Eve described. Bacon grease and maple syrup aromas fill the diner. Cooks yell orders back and forth.
“Look!” Eve elbows me, pure elation written on her face like a kid given free rein in a toy store. “They have t-shirts. I need the Angry Beaver or Bust one.”
“Welcome to The Angry Beaver,” An older woman wearing a red apron tied around her waist and salt-and-pepper hair tied back into a bun greets us. “Just the two of you?”
“Yes,” Eve says.
She grabs two menus and waves for us to follow her. Families, couples, and friends fill practically every table, chatting over breakfast. We meander through the crowded diner until she stops at a booth along the far wall. Eve slides into one side, and I take the other. The server places a laminated menu in front of each of us. I glance at her name tag. It’s not Betty, but Mary Lou.
“What can I get y’all to drink?”
“I’ll have a coffee,” Eve says.
“And I’ll have an orange juice. And a water. Thanks, Mary Lou,” I say.
She saunters off to help a table a few feet away. We both peruse the menu in silence.
“I think I know what I’m going to order,” Eve says.
“Let me guess. The fluffy pancake stack with bananas.”
She drops her menu to the table. “Now why do you think that would be my order?”
“It’s sweet, and you seem like a pancake kind of girl.”
“Let me guess, you’re going to order the steak and eggs because it’s meaty and manly.” She squares her shoulders and puffs out her chest.
A smile spreads across my face. “Actually, I’m getting the fluffy pancakes with extra bananas.”
A sweet laugh, the one I love, bubbles out of her. “I never expected you to be a fluffy pancake kind of girl.”
“I can never make them like they do at a diner. They just don’t turn out the same.”
Mary Lou returns a few minutes later with Eve’s coffee in one hand and expertly holds my water and orange juice in the other.
“Have y’all had a chance to look over the menu?” Mary Lou asks.
“Yes. I’ll have the omelet super deluxe with extra crispy bacon. Not like extra crispy, but extra bacon, and make it crispy,” Eve says. She lowers her menu. “I once asked for extra crispy bacon, and I basically got bacon dust. No one wants bacon dust.”
I give Mary Lou my order for pancakes with a side of sausage links before she collects our menus and tucks them under her arm. She saunters to the next table without missing a beat.
“I wonder how long she’s been working here. On the menu, it said they opened in nineteen seventy-eight. By the way she floats around with ease, I bet she’s been here since they opened. Could you imagine working in the same job for that many years? Even if I had my photo studio, I don’t know if I’d want to do that for the rest of my life.”
I strum my fingers on the tabletop. “My plan is to never leave Porter’s.”
“Really?” She taps her chin before dropping her arm to the table. “I mean, I get working for Jake. He’s great because he’s my brother and all, but serving drinks for the rest of your life?”
The “J” word. The elephant looming over me who told me to watch out for his little sister. For the past day, I forgot how our relationships weaved together and pretended we were just Eve and Lach. In another twenty-four hours, our bubble will burst, and I’ll snap back to reality.
“It’s more than serving drinks. It’s something new every day. Plus, it’s like a second home to me.”
Her shoulders sag, and her smile turns upside down. “Can I just say,” she blows out a breath, her gaze dropping to the table, “I’m envious of the friendships you and everyone have at the bar. Everyone has each other’s back, no matter what. I never had that.”
I tug at the paper strip securing the rolled silverware. “Now you do.”
She peers up at me through her lashes. A smile tugs on her lips. I’m not sure if she believes me or not, but it’s true. She’s only been working at the bar for a month, but she fits right in. All the girls love working with her, and I certainly enjoy her company.
Under the table, my leg bounces. All I want to do is slide out of my side of the booth and join her on hers, wrap my arm around her, and never let her go. Before I rise from my seat, Mary Lou returns to our table with a row of plates lining her arm and another in her hand. Someone can only perform that juggling act with years of experience. She places the omelet in front of Eve, whose eyes widen as if she didn’t realize her omelet would be the size of a newborn baby. Mary Lou places a plate of the extra crispy bacon next to it. Then she sets a stack of pancakes with bananas in front of me. After Mary Lou leaves to help the next table, both of us continue to stare in disbelief.
I break the silence. “That’s like a two-pound omelet. Are you going to be able to eat all that?”
Her eyes slowly drift to mine. “You underestimate my love of diner food. I will leave here with an omelet baby in my belly.” She rubs her stomach and wiggles her eyebrows. “But I’m having serious food envy over your pancakes.”
I love that regardless of the situation, she’s always herself. I’ve been with women who conform to be someone they think I want, but not Eve. You get what you see. With her fork, she slices into the corner of her omelet and stabs it with the tines. She shoves the giant bite into her mouth and chews. Her eyes roll back as she sinks into the booth.
“Where has this been all my life?” She presses the napkin against her lips.
I drizzle the maple syrup over the top of my pancakes before cutting off a chunk and putting it in my mouth.
Eve goes in for another bite. “If I didn’t start a photography studio, I would have wanted to run a diner. But I’m a terrible cook. I once caught a pot of water on fire.”
“That takes talent.” I nod between bites. “How would you run a diner then?”
She laughs. “Oh, I wouldn’t be in the kitchen. I’d be like Mary Lou.” She nods at Mary Lou as she chats with customers. “I’d be in the dining room, charming the customers and telling others what to do.”
“Well, you’d certainly be good at that. But did you know ninety percent of restaurants fail within the first year?” I cut a chunk of my pancakes off, stab a slice of banana, and shove it into my mouth.
“Apparently, so do photography studios, so it sounds right up my alley.” She shrugs before taking a sip of her coffee. She grabs a piece of bacon and stops halfway to her mouth. “I’ll trade you this strip of bacon for a bite of your pancakes with a slice of banana.”
I laugh. “No deal. These pancakes are like gold. I share with no one.”
“Okay. Two strips of bacon.” She plucks another piece off her plate, waving the salt-cured pork in the air. “And half a sausage link.”
Shit. The bacon does smell good. “You drive a hard bargain, but deal.”
She smiles triumphantly as we exchange food. I take a bite of bacon while she chews a mouthful of fluffy pancakes and my last slice of banana.
When she swallows, she rests her chin on her hand. “Tell me, Lach, how is a guy like you single?”
I take a drink of my orange juice, needing a few seconds to figure out how I answer. Do I give her the real, honest answer or the fabricated one?
“Is it because you haven’t found the one or something like that?”
“I haven’t had a desire to find the one. Relationships always end in heartbreak. Why go through all the trouble?”
She rests her elbows on the table. “Sure, some do, but not all of them. Look at your coworkers. Rylee found Trey, and Dessa reunited with Garrett.”
“They’re the outliers. Also, each of them went through a lot of shit before they found each other. I want to avoid the shit. I’ve had enough heartbreak in my life.” My body stiffens. The last sentence just tumbled out. It’s not something I readily talk about. Eve doesn’t need to know how fucked up my life has been. Hoping to keep her from asking any other questions, I add, “I’m very content with where I’m at right now.”
Her lips press together as she contemplates my answer. “But is content really happiness?”
I shrug. “For me it is.”
Her gaze drops to her plate of food as she nods.
Clearly, it’s not the answer she’s looking for, but it’s the only one I have. The closest thing I’ve found to happiness is when I started working at Porter’s. Jake welcomed me into his small, tight-knit family that later included Rylee and Dessa, eventually Nora, Garrett, and Trey. I owe everything to Jake, and I’m sure fantasizing about his little sister isn’t what he had in mind.