Chapter 17
Everly
To call or not to call.
Text, maybe?
Grr. This is why dating stinks. Seriously. Ask a man on a date and then he ghosts you.
“That’s a mighty big sigh, young lady.” Marlene clips an order on the old-style wheel Charlie still uses. He clings to outdated ways when a modernized computer system would be ten times more efficient.
I lean my hip to the stainless counter under the window. “Marlene, you date a lot.”
She laughs. Hard.
Right. Okay. I sigh again, and she lifts a painted-on eyebrow. I’m at the feet of the dating master, so here goes nothing. “I invited Knox to a Christmas party on Saturday. He said yes, but now it’s been four days and I haven’t heard a word from him. I texted once, but he never answered.”
“Ooo, honey. I’m so happy the two of you are dating.” She shimmies her shoulders as if my tale were a juicy piece of prime rib.
“I think you’re missing the point. This isn’t good news. Knox is ghosting me.” I slam my arms over my chest. “Now what am I supposed to do? I need a date for Saturday.” The passel of hurt feelings can keep until later.
“Aw, that doesn’t sound right at all. Cliff’s been talking about how he hasn’t seen the pup—as he calls him—this happy in ages. You need to just call the man, sugar.”
“Nope.” I tip my nose into the air—but all I get is a snout full eau de diner.
“Now, don’t let your pride mess this up, hon. That man is the catch of a lifetime. Do not let him get away.”
I glance at Marlene, snagged by her meaningful tone and waitress wisdom. Knox is great, truly…but, catch of a lifetime? It feels a tad early to declare that.
“Cliff’s been quieter than usual this week himself. They’re pushing hard to meet that deadline.”
I know all this, I do, but we have details to firm up, and why should I have to be the one to call him?
You asked him out, Everly.
Oh, right. But besides that. I mean, come on, texting is easy—and I did try last night. So far? Crickets.
Two hours later I lock the door behind Marlene and Buck. Marlene offered to stay and help prep for Friday breakfast, but misery doesn’t always love company. Sometimes it wants to sulk and have a private pity party.
Caution has marked my dating life pretty much always. After Lance, my guard went even higher. The next to wear down my defenses was Ethan, but the minute I laid my doubts aside, I paid for it. And now, Knox.
Once Charlie’s place is ready for six a.m., I grab my keys and purse. Tomorrow isn’t even here yet and I’m already tired of it. If December could just tie on its running shoes and race past, that would be great.
I turn the lock and drop Charlie’s wad of keys into my purse.
“You are a sight for sore eyes.” A deep voice travels from across the lot.
I whip around, heartrate off to the races.
Beneath a light pole, wearing a brown cap and bundled in an insulated jacket with the LHS logo, Knox is leaned against the hood of his work truck, boots crossed.
I swear if it weren’t for the pickup holding him upright, he’d be on the ground. Mud on his boots is one thing, but tonight it’s on his face too.
He lifts his cap and rakes fingers through waves of awesomely thick hair, loosening strands plastered with sweat from hard labor, despite the cold air. He returns it to its place, hangs his thumbs on his jeans, and watches me cross the parking lot.
His cheeks groove around an apologetic smile. “Just saw your message about ten minutes ago. I am so sorry, Everly. Please don’t think I was ghosting you.”
“Umm…no. Not at all.” I chew my lip. These things happen, but…really? The longer I live, the more I’m astounded by the lies people spout even when they don’t have to. “It’s okay.”
His head tips to one side. “You don’t believe me.”
“I have no reason not to.”
His chuckle crackles with a dry sound.
The only thing lively about Knox tonight is the tired twinkle in his bloodshot eyes. “Hey, I get it. Been there.” Sighing, he lifts the cap again and slaps it back down, tugging the bill. “All I can say is, this week has been a bear.”
“What’s going on?” Sympathy whittles at my bad attitude. Taking out my insecurities on another person isn’t fair. Though it might have been nice, it isn’t as if we’re in a relationship or anything, and he never promised to call.
He shoves his hands deeper in his pockets. “What isn’t going on? Short-staffed thanks to flu season. Inspections. A backhoe that went down, and then a twenty-four-hour wait to get a replacement. And that was just Monday.”
I didn’t bother to put my coat on for the quick trip to the car, a move I now regret. “And since then?”
His face tightens. “One of my guys nicked a gas line. And the bad part is, I think he was high when he did it.”
I press my fingers to my lips. “Oh no. Mike?”
He points air guns at me. “Bingo.” He waves his hands.
“But that’s on me, because I should have cut the guy loose weeks ago, and especially after Saturday night.
We’ve just been running fast and furiously for weeks, and I needed the manpower.
Plus, he’s the best at what he does—when he’s not being a lowlife. ”
My heart goes out of my chest and runs straight to Knox. Sure, my feet are tired and I’ve been feeling sorry for myself for the way Charlie’s Diner hijacked my plans for the holiday season, but my problems feel petty compared to Knox’s.
Closing my own complaint file, I reach for his arm.
His palms sail up “Better not. I haven’t been this grimy in ages.”
I transfer my coat to one arm and squeeze his sleeve anyway. “I don’t mind. You look like you could use a hug.”
Dancing light flares in his eyes. “Oh, baby, you don’t know how good that sounds.” His deep voice gravels to a new low. “But I’m gonna save the pleasure of having your arms around me for when I can do things right.”
Be still my heart. Baby? I do believe I’m blushing. Clearly, I should be this forward more often.
The Saturday event I’ve been dreading now feels lightyears away.
Knox turns his face to the side for a cavernous yawn. “My apologies. That could not be helped.” He smiles wryly and jams the heel of his hand against his temple as if trying to keep his eyes open. “Now. About Saturday—”
“You’re still coming?”
He blows out a breath, shoulders in full collapse. “You really did think I’d changed my mind.”
I watch a lone car pass on the street.
He lifts off his cap and taps it against his leg. “I’m sorry, Everly. That is completely my fault. Trust me, I never intended to disappear, but like I said, the week’s been brutal. We even brought in extra lighting and started working extended hours.”
“I understand.” Now.
“Let’s nail this thing down. What time should I pick you up?”
I shake my head. “Oh no. I’m picking you up.”
He frowns. “I don’t like this plan.”
“Sorry. I’m driving. Non-negotiable. This is my event.” I’m traditional to the core, but lately, I’ve been feeling the need to work on independence. Strength. The world is too tricky a place to let others run the show for me.
He strokes his stubbly chin between fingers and thumb. There’s dirt caked around the fingernails. “Will you be wearing a little black dress?”
If feels like a mischievous elf is dancing in my stomach. “Something like that. But it is Christmas, so, maybe red. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Red is good on you.” He kicks off the truck. “I sure like it on your cheeks.”
My fingers fly to my face. The man has game—which means I’m going to have to step mine up.