3. Juniper
3
JUNIPER
S ince Cord wouldn’t walk away until I was inside the car with my door closed and the engine started, I waited until then to release the deep breath I’d been holding in.
I glanced over at my mom. She was looking at me but didn’t say anything. Never a good sign.
“What?” I finally asked after backing out of the parking place and turning onto Main Street.
“I didn’t say a word.”
“I know. That’s the problem.”
“He seems like a very nice young man. Maybe a tad old for you.”
“Mom, I’m twenty-three.”
“And according to his ID, he’s twenty-eight. Not to mention, I don’t get the impression he’ll be here longer than he has to.”
“I don’t think five years constitutes ‘too old.’”
“It would if you were twelve.”
“Ew. Well, I’m not. Jeez, Mom.” I glanced over at her. Her hand was over her mouth, and she was trying not to laugh.
“He is hot. I’ll give you that.”
My eyes opened wide. “Mom!”
“What? I’m not Miss Cena’s age. Although, if she met Cord, she’d probably think the same thing.”
I shook my head, thankful our drive home was a short one. “I’m having breakfast with him tomorrow.”
“At seven?” My mom gasped.
“We compromised. We’re meeting at eight.”
Since we were both exhausted from the long day at the inn and Grayson and Dad were already in bed, I kissed my mom good night and made my way upstairs as soon as we got home.
I took a quick shower to rinse the smell of the grill off me, then hurried and crawled into bed. Eight would come too soon and, at the same time, not soon enough. While I couldn’t wait to see Cord tomorrow, I hoped I’d dream about him tonight.
I was up at seven, showered and ready to go, wishing I hadn’t suggested meeting at eight since, now, I had time to kill .
“You’re up early,” said my dad, shuffling into the kitchen in his bathrobe and slippers.
“She’s got a breakfast date,” said my mom, walking in behind him and straight over to the coffeemaker. “And I love her so much right now,” she added, pouring two cups and handing one to him. “Thanks for getting a pot brewing, sweetheart.”
She leaned in and kissed my cheek.
My dad took a sip, then looked up at me. “A breakfast date?”
“Did you just pick up on that?” my mom asked, nudging him.
“My brain won’t process anything until I’ve had caffeine. So, what about it?”
“A guest checked into the inn last night—” I began.
“He’s starting work at the Lilacs tomorrow,” my mom told him.
“Anyway, I offered to tell him more about the village. Maybe show him around.”
“That’ll be a long breakfast date, considering it’s Sunday and nothing opens before noon, if that.”
I shrugged. “I could take him ice skating. Or we could go for a walk.” I filled my cup halfway. “Also, this close to Christmas, I think some of the shops have earlier hours.”
My dad leaned in and kissed my cheek like my mom had. “You’re a nice girl, June-bug. Some might say too nice, considering you offered to get up this early.”
“You haven’t seen this guy,” said my mom, taking eggs and milk out of the refrigerator. “Not that he’d have the same impact on you that he did us.”
When he raised a brow, she set the things in her hand on the counter and hugged him. “He’s a cowboy from Colorado.”
My dad kissed her temple. “He must be taking over for JD.”
We both nodded. “Makes sense, except he said he’s supposed to call Hoss tomorrow.”
My dad made a face. “Hoss Schultz is a criminal.”
“He hasn’t actually been charged with anything, Jay,” my mom reminded him.
“Doesn’t make him any less of one.” My dad turned to me. “The last thing I want to do is rain on your parade, sweetheart, but if this guy is mixed up with Schultz, I’m going to suggest you keep your distance. ”
“Understood.” My parents let Grayson and me make our own decisions, particularly after we became adults. So when one of them made a “suggestion,” as he’d put it, I listened. So did my brother.
“He seems like a nice young man,” my mom added, cracking the eggs in the bowl she’d taken out of the cupboard. On instinct, I grabbed the flour and sugar and put a stick of butter in a cup in the microwave.
Every Sunday, my mom made cinnamon cake as a treat for Dad since it was the only day he took off. The Goat, our family’s bar and restaurant, was still open, but the staff had ganged up on him, saying they wouldn’t let him come in unless it was a dire emergency. Grayson and I were pretty sure our mom had bribed them to do it.
“Have you heard how Miss Cena is?” he asked.
“I haven’t.”
I looked at my mom, who shook her head. “I haven’t, either.”
Miss Cena, as we all called her even though she’d been married, was ninety-nine years old. I heard a rumor that she’d turn one hundred sometime around Christmas. Not that she’d ever admit it .
I thought back to when I last saw her. It was at least a year ago. Then, she’d asked me to bring my diploma over to show her when I returned home in May.
“I’ve never met someone who got two master’s degrees at one time,” she’d told me the last time I visited.
According to her housekeeper, Mrs. Miller, who answered the phone when I called, Miss Cena wasn’t receiving visitors, but she’d let me know if her condition improved. Nine months had passed, and I still hadn’t heard from her. Maybe I’d try calling again when I returned home later today.
“You best be off if you don’t want to be late,” said my mom, motioning to the clock.
I was stunned to see it was a quarter to eight. “Yeah, I gotta go.” After kissing the cheeks of both my parents, who told me to have a good time, I walked out the door.
As I sat in the car, waiting for it to warm up, I gazed at the house I grew up in. It was an old Victorian that my father had purchased and painstakingly renovated shortly after my parents were married .
When I came home from college after graduation, I figured living at home would only be temporary until I got a job related to one or both of my degrees. I’d had a few offers but turned them down because they were mostly on the West Coast. Someday, I might want to leave East Aurora, but right now, my parents needed my help at the Goat, especially on the weekend.
Or at least that’s the excuse I told myself. The truth was my life hadn’t turned out the way I thought it would. All the dreams I’d once had ended the summer between my junior and senior years of high school.
I shook my head, refusing to go down the rabbit hole of that memory. It was over and done, and I wasn’t that person any longer. The hardest part was I still hadn’t found anything else that excited me enough to build my life around.
That Grayson hadn’t gotten a place of his own when he graduated, either, made me feel less like a loser about it. I thought about asking if he wanted to share an apartment, but if I did that, I might as well stay at home since I’d have the same level of privacy .
I pulled the car out of the driveway, then onto Main Street. There weren’t many people out this early on a Sunday, so parking places were plentiful. When I saw a truck with Colorado plates, I parked right behind it on the street, then ran across to the diner.
“Hey, Juni,” said Mary Beth, a girl I’d gone to high school with.
“I’m, um, meeting someone.”
She motioned to the left, and I saw Cord walking toward me.
“Good morning,” he said. “I got us a table by the fireplace. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s perfect.” I removed my hat and gloves, shoved them in my pocket, and was about to shrug out of my coat when Cord stepped behind me, helped me take it off, then hung it next to the barn jacket he was wearing last night.
He motioned for me to go ahead. The place was half empty, but the eyes of all those seated landed on Cord and me as we made our way to the table. Most murmured hello, but didn’t say anything .
Cord got my chair and, as I went to take my seat, leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “Everyone in here knows you, don’t they?”
“How could you tell?”
He sat down before responding. “There’s a place in my hometown just like this one. It’s called McGill’s, and if you and I walked in together, news would spread before we were finished eating that I was with someone they didn’t recognize, and everyone would be scrambling to find out who you were.”
I laughed. “Must be as small as East Aurora.”
“Smaller.” Cord picked up the menu. “What’s good here?” he asked.
“Everything, but my favorite is the Italian French toast.”
He raised a brow.
“French toast made with Italian bread,” I explained.
“How’s their bacon?”
I laughed. “At least as good as the inn’s. Maybe better.”
He set his menu down. “I don’t know if that’s possible. That burger, last night, was so good I thought about ordering a second.”
“You should’ve asked. I would’ve made you another one.”
He rested his elbows on the table. “Did you make the first one?”
“I did.”
“That explains why it was so good.”
I felt my cheeks flush, and I lowered my eyes to the menu I knew by heart.
“Juniper?”
I raised my gaze and met his. “Yeah?”
“It makes me crazy when you do that.”
My eyes opened wide. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
I studied him. “What is it I do that makes you, err, crazy?”
“The way your cheeks turn pink and you lower your gaze. It makes me wanna…”
“What? ”
“Ready to order?” asked Mary Beth, standing over us.
“May I?” Cord asked.
“Um, sure,” I responded, even though I had no idea what he meant.
“Two orders of Italian French toast and two orders of bacon, make mine crisp. Juniper?”
“Crisp for me too, thanks.”
“What to drink?” Mary Beth asked as she jotted the rest of the order on the notepad.
“Coffee for me, please.”
“Same,” said Cord. “I’ll tell you later,” he added once she walked away.
“Tell me what?”
“What it makes me wanna do.”
My cheeks flushed, and I looked away. Not on purpose. I hadn’t realized, until now, how often I did it. When I raised my eyes, Cord was brushing his lower lip with his index finger, and based on his expression, it appeared he wanted me for breakfast.