Chapter 19
Chapter
Nineteen
COWBOYS IN SPACE
Shaw
“We’re two worlds apart.” — S
L ater that evening, I push open the creaky door of Ronnie’s Galactic Griddle Diner, the silver and rusty old bell above tinkling softly as we step into the bright glow of the space cowboy-themed diner.
Ronnie’s diner is a small-town treasure. There’s never a moment when it isn’t packed, as both locals and tourists love stopping by to witness the weird yet charming diner.
As soon as you step inside, you are immediately transported into a world that seems pulled from the pages of an old western novel, yet strangely set amidst the vast expanse of the universe.
Ronnie, the owner, is a space-loving nut, evident in the decor of the place. He also had a little boy who died of cancer when I was a sophomore in high school. His son wanted to be an astronaut, yet this cruel life had other plans for him. Ronnie opened this diner to pay for his son’s treatment and to keep his little boy’s memory alive in the heart of Canyon Creek.
Ronnie’s and his family’s love for the wonders of the universe and their grief inspire this place, which is why I choose to bring Ella here. I’ve never forgotten her love for astronomy.
The diner’s silver walls are adorned with antique space gear ranging from space suits to helmets, while on the other side of the wall, there are silver and black cowboy hats. Holographic displays flicker above each booth, projecting scenes of galactic rodeos and galaxies, blending the rugged charm of frontier life with the allure of deep space.
The place is a charming fusion of nostalgia and the cosmos. The black vinyl booths are embossed with silver stars, and a miniature model of a rocket hangs from the ceiling, gently spinning as if in zero gravity.
The aroma of sizzling asteroid burgers and cosmic curly fries hangs in the air, mingling with the faint hum of the jukebox tunes drifting through the room. The waitstaff wear retro-futuristic uniforms and classic glitter cowboy hats, adorned with glowing name tags. They move gracefully between booths with bright smiles on their faces.
At the counter, a large glow-in-the-dark and holographic menu displays an array of special dishes with peculiar names like lunar flapjacks drizzled with starlight syrup, asteroid bacon burgers, supernova sandwiches stacked high with tangy cosmic cheese, and stardust fries.
The large, comfortable black booths are occupied by a mix of locals and out-of-towners passing through, their voices blending into a low murmur punctuated by laughter and the occasional clink of cutlery.
As I pause and look around the room, memories from the past flash through my mind, reminding me of times I’d rather forget—specifically, Friday night dinners with Ma here in this very place.
“Welcome to Ronnie’s Galactic!” The waitress, a middle-aged woman with a warm smile and a pencil tucked behind her ear, greets us from behind the counter. “Take a seat, y’all, and we’ll be with you in a super second.”
Ignoring the pang in my chest, I lead Ella to a booth close to the back exit. The booth’s table is made of metal and adorned with a small vase of wildflowers, their petals catching the dim green light from the lamp above.
“No way,” Ella whispers softly, her voice carrying a hint of wonder. “This place is…” She pauses, looking around the diner with wide eyes. “So adorable. Unlike anywhere I’ve ever been. Oh my gosh, look at the stars!” she squeals happily while looking up at the ceiling.
I glance around the quirky diner, momentarily feeling a pang of regret that perhaps I should have chosen a fancier restaurant more to her standard. “It’s not what you’re used to,” I murmur apologetically.
“You’re right,” she nods, taking it all in with wide and curious eyes. “It’s so much better.”
Our gazes meet, and I offer her a small smile. “Come on, princess. You don’t have to pretend. It’s okay to admit that something is not up to your standards.”
Her blue eyes narrow, clearly annoyed by my comment. “I’m not pretending, Shaw. I also don’t lie. You should know that about me.” She says fiercely, then adds, “It is not the place that makes this moment perfect; it is you.” She whispers, pinning me with her warm gaze. “Besides, look how amazing it is. I can’t believe a place like this exists.” I feel a rush of emotion as she speaks, her words touching a chord deep within me. She’s excited about something that seems beneath her. Will this girl ever stop surprising me?
As I look into her eyes, filled with genuine joy and appreciation for the peculiar diner, I realize just how much her kind heart touches me. I’m a harsh man, yet in her presence, I soften.
I misjudged her once and I regret it deeply. Ella has proven time and time again since she’s been here that she doesn’t care for expensive things but what she truly values are the small things.
There’s a long pause, and everything seems to fade into the background as I stare at her, watching her look around with laughter shining in her pretty blue eyes. “Sometimes you say things that catch me off guard, and I don’t know how to answer. I can’t seem to find the right words, and that messes me up,” I confess, feeling vulnerable—a feeling I truly despise.
Life has taught me that vulnerability is a weakness others seek to exploit. Still, I can’t help but feel vulnerable around this girl.
“I’m sorry,” Ella whispers, sounding embarrassed and regretful.
I lift my head and gaze at her. Her blue eyes meet my brown ones—hers loving and kind, mine jaded and guarded. “Don’t be,” I begin, clearing my throat before continuing. “It’s not a bad thing. Not with you.”
Ella’s face breaks into a radiant smile that illuminates the diner more than the green flashing light above us. “Good. Because you make me feel that way too. We can be vulnerable together.” She bites her lip playfully, and I take a moment to admire her beauty tonight.
Ella traded her soft pink pajamas for a short denim skirt and a white and pink bustier that hugs her small waist and reveals way too much cleavage. Fuck me, she looks stunning. So much so that I’m having trouble keeping my eyes away from her chest.
Gorgeous and so addicting.
I can’t get enough of her, and I’ve only had one taste of her lips. It took only one taste of her for me to fantasize about her soft and plump lips day and night. Not just her lips, but other parts too.
A local walks in just as I’m busy ogling my client slash friend slash date tonight. I notice Ella’s cheeks flush bright red when the guy offers her a warm and gentlemanly greeting. I shoot him a look. He’s a younger guy, handsome, clean-cut, and he’s smiling invitingly at my girl.
My girl.
Shit.
When did I start thinking of Ellaiza Kenton as my girl?
My hand tightens around my fork as the young guy wanders off, still looking at Ella over his shoulder with a too-friendly smile on his face. Sensing my icy stare, his eyes meet mine, and he quickly looks away. I turn toward Ella and see her looking back down at her plate, her pretty cheeks still flushed. “Damn, you don’t half blush, do you?” I mutter, feeling annoyed and something else—something I’d rather not admit.
“You’re jealous,” she points out, sounding pleased with the idea.
I scoff. “I am not.”
Yes. Yes, I fucking am.
“Sure, you aren’t,” she teases, wiggling her dark brows comically.
I try my best to suppress a smile.
I failed.
“Oh, damn. There goes my heart,” the little tease fans her face and bats her pretty eyelashes at me. “One day, your smiles will be the death of me, Shaw Bear. I just know it.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I murmur.
“And yet, here you are with me, smiling all the same.” She laughs, her eyes sparkling like twin stars.
My goddamn heart squeezes in my chest.
I can almost hear the pounding of my own heart, if that’s even possible.
Ella’s face softens as she looks back at me. Do you see me, princess? Every broken piece?
The moment is broken by the friendly interruption of a waitress. “Hi there, folks! Ready to order?” the older lady asks cheerfully, her pen poised above her notepad, ready to jot down our order.
I force myself to look away from the too-damn-tempting heiress and glance at the menu briefly. Then I opt for the meal I used to enjoy every Friday night when I was younger. Yes, because I’m a fucking masochist. “I’ll have the Super Galactic Bacon Burger with a side of onion rings and a beer,” I say.
I look at Ella, ready to help her with her order when she follows suit. “I’ll go with the Cosmic Chicken Fried Steak, mashed potatoes heavy on the gravy, and a strawberry shake with extra whipped cream, please,” she says, her eyes meeting the waitress with her usual friendly smile.
At that moment, I realized something… I’m jealous of anyone who gets to see her smile, even if it’s just a friendly older waitress.
The waitress, Norma, notes down our orders quickly, her demeanor embodying the charming western hospitality I am always lacking. “You got it, sugar. Coming right up!” she assures us before disappearing into the bustling kitchen.
As we wait for our meals to arrive, I lean back with a relaxed sigh, feeling more at ease than I had anticipated.
I watch as Ella pulls a pen from her small purse and begins doodling on her napkin. She’s drawing tiny dots connected by thin lines—constellations.
This girl is a mystery—an endearing one.
“Hey, Shaw,” she murmurs without looking up from her drawing. I grin at how adorable she looks hunched over in the booth, doodling on a napkin.
“Yes?” I ask, my gaze fixed on her drawing. I watch in amazement as she continues adding more constellations and tiny planets. It’s clear she’s creating a galaxy.
“Tell me something no one else knows about you,” she asks gently, lifting her head, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest.
I pause for a moment, considering her request.
“I hate humankind.”
Ella laughs, the lovely sound wrapping around my heart and squeezing the hell out of it. “No kidding!” she says with a hint of sarcasm. “Now that’s a lie, because I know you like me.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “You’re the exception, moonshine.”
Her face softens, and the loveliest shade of pink spreads over her cheeks. “Tell me something else?”
I find myself unable to refuse her anything. All she needs to do is ask, and I’d probably move heaven and earth to make it happen for her.
I brace myself in the booth and take a deep breath. “I can’t sleep more than two hours at night.” There, I gave her something—something big.
Ella listens attentively, her gaze turning sad. Shit. Now I’ve made her sad. “Can I ask why?”
I shrug. “A ghost from my past can’t seem to let me go.” I try to joke, but it only comes off sounding fucking sad and pathetic. Motherfucker.
“I’m sorry.”
I frown. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I’m still sorry for whatever pain you’re going through, Shaw. I wish I could take it away from you. I wish I could make it disappear.”
“I haven’t had one single nightmare since you arrived at the ranch, so I guess you did make it go away,” I reply.
She smiles at me with a touch of sadness.
A pang of ache shoots through my chest.
“Don’t do that, princess,” I mumble, feeling helpless.
“Do what?” she whispers.
“Look at me with pity.”
“I don’t pity you, but you’re my friend, and what hurts you hurts me. I can’t change that; those are the rules.”
I busy myself with the knife on the table. “The rules, huh?”
She nods, looking at me sheepishly. “Yup.”
There’s a long pause before I finally respond. “Alright then.”
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” she says sincerely, her voice a soft whisper amidst the gentle hum of the diner.
“What about you?” I ask.
“Me?” she replies.
“Tell me something no one knows about you.”
Ella meets my gaze, her expression both thoughtful and open as she ponders my question.
After a brief pause, she takes a deep breath, her voice soft but steady. “I—sometimes feel like no one really sees me. The real me…” She hesitates, gathering her thoughts before continuing. Her fingers trace the doodles on her napkin, a gesture of quiet contemplation. Her brows furrow slightly, and she seems almost nervous about what I might say next.
Anger twists in my stomach as I contemplate the idea that this girl—this lovely girl—has ever felt anything less than perfect.
Reaching forward, I touch the soft skin of her hand. “Ella.”
Her sad eyes clash with mine. “Yeah?”
“I see you.”
And I do. For a while now, she’s all I’ve seen, and I fear she might be all I ever see.
Her.
My sweet, sweet madness.