Chapter 4
Chapter Four
“Well, I guess the lunch rush is over.” Norm Barber, the short-order cook at Elvira’s, perched one bony hip on a stool in the corner of the tavern kitchen.
Denver eyed the half-load of dishes stacked in the commercial dishwasher. “Wasn’t much of a rush.”
“Ain’t nobody wants to get out in this slop.” The older man wiped down the stainless steel counters in reach of his seat. “This rain doesn’t stop soon, we’ll all be keepin’ our eyes out for animals marching two-by-two.”
Indeed, the summer thunderstorm had apparently decided to camp out over this chunk of the mountains all day. Denver hoped it would blow out before time to prep for the dinner service. Oscar would go stir crazy without having a chance for a walk or a game of fetch.
“Doubt it’ll come to that. But why don’t you go on and knock off early? Nobody’s coming in this last half hour before the kitchen closes.”
Norm slid off the stool, already tugging at the tie of his apron. “Won’t say no to that. I heard they’re setting up for bingo down at the VFW, and I’m feelin’ lucky.”
Denver smirked. “With the numbers or with Widow Murchison?” It was hardly a secret that Norm had his eye on Estelle Murchison. According to the local gossip—AKA Trish—Estelle had been looking right back. A first since the passing of her husband a year and a half ago.
Norm’s teeth flashed white in his dark face as he slipped on his signature pork pie hat. “Could be with both, if I play my cards right.”
Denver laughed. “You old dog.”
“Don’t knock it, youngin’. ’Sides, rumor has it you got a shot at that yourself with that pretty little florist.”
Maybe he did, and he’d given it more than a passing thought. But that was nobody’s damned business but his and Misty’s. He jerked a head toward the exit. “Go on, old man. I’ll see you later.”
With another unrepentant grin, Norm saluted and slipped out the back door, into the storm.
The dining room was nearly empty when Denver pushed through the swinging doors.
Just a quartet of blue hairs lingering over coffee in hopes the weather would clear.
Trish could handle them, while he did inventory behind the bar.
He’d barely retrieved his clipboard before the exterior door opened, letting in the sound of driving rain and rumbling thunder.
A dripping Misty fought with her umbrella in the entryway.
Denver couldn’t stop his automatic smile at the sight of her.
She’d pulled her hair back in a braid today.
The wind had obviously wrought havoc on the original effect, stripping most of the petals off whatever she’d tucked into the length of it.
Only a few straggly pink ones lingered. Several tendrils of hair had pulled free to curl around her face, and more than anything in the world, Denver wanted to kiss her right then.
“So there actually is something out there that’ll turn your habitual frown upside down,” Trish observed. He didn’t have to look to note the smirk on her face. The tone of her voice dripped with it.
Without even sparing her a glance, Denver lifted the pass-through. “Go refill the condiments or something.”
Misty finished wrestling her umbrella closed and met him halfway. Conscious they were in his place of business and that tongues were already wagging, he resisted the urge to grab her by the hips and haul her against him.
“Well, this is a surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow.” Though he’d already been trying to sort whether he could stop by her shop before time to prep for the dinner rush.
Big, brown eyes met his. “Good surprise, I hope.”
“Always.” And he was surprised to find it was true. He hadn’t ever not been happy to see her.
Color crept into Misty’s cheeks, but she didn’t break his gaze and certainly didn’t dim her smile.
“I come in search of sustenance. I was slammed this morning prepping for a fiftieth anniversary party, and I haven’t had a chance to eat.
I was hoping I’d scooted in before the kitchen closed for the afternoon. ”
Of course, this was the day he’d let Norm go early. “We’ll rustle up something.” He wasn’t helpless behind the grill himself. Grabbing Misty’s hand, he led her toward the kitchen. “Trish, man the front.”
Tongue-in-cheek, Trish just nodded. “You got it, boss.”
As he towed her through the swinging door, Misty laughed. “Ooo. Into the inner sanctum.”
Almost before the door had shut behind them, Denver spun, giving in to that primitive urge to get his hands and mouth on her.
He drank in her gasp of surprise, curling his hands around her hips and yanking her close, even as she rose to her toes and snaked her arms up his chest. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of her, the feel of her, of the helpless little whimper she made as he dove deeper. He couldn’t get enough of her, period.
And they were in the kitchen of his bar, where they could be walked in on at any moment.
Cursing his own shit timing, he gentled the kiss and set her away from him.
Breathless, she sagged back against a counter. “What was that for?”
“I missed you.” It felt strange to admit it. He hadn’t let anybody close enough to miss since his dad died.
Misty’s kiss-swollen lips curved in a beaming smile that made something in his chest light up. “I have a confession.”
With that smile, it couldn’t be anything bad. “What’s that?”
“I totally packed my lunch. I just…didn’t want it. So I came here instead.”
The idea of that had him grinning back. “Then let’s see what we can do to satisfy your appetite.”
In the beat of silence that followed, his gaze fell back to her mouth, and he thought about satisfying his own appetites with her. When he lifted his eyes back to hers, he found an answering flare of unmistakable lust.
Not the time or place. They were both in the middle of their work days. So he squashed his burgeoning arousal and turned toward the cooler to gather ingredients for…something.
“I don’t have quite the breadth of menu options that Norm can make, but I can pull together something. What are you in the mood for?”
“Whatever’s easy. A BLT?”
Denver ducked into the cooler to grab the bacon and fresh lettuce. “You’re easy to please.”
“I mean, anything you fix is going to pale in comparison to the dessert I started with.”
Those brown eyes were twinkling at him as he pulled his head out of the cooler. Maintaining a serious expression, he intoned, “Life’s too short not to have dessert first.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
His hand fisted around the rasher of bacon. Why exactly were they still in this kitchen? Oh, right. Because they were both responsible business owners. Damn it.
Striving to pull his mind out of the gutter, he cranked up the grill and started the bacon. “Tell me about your day.”
“Well, you’ll never believe who was in buying apology flowers this morning.
” Misty took Norm’s abandoned stool and filled him in.
The sound of her chattering about customers and flowers and art was a soothing backdrop as he cooked for her.
He realized he felt…happy to do something to take care of her.
His hands paused halfway through slicing the tomato.
He hadn’t taken care of anybody since his dad.
Hadn’t wanted to. After everything they’d been through, he hadn’t imagined he’d ever want to take care of anybody ever again.
Then again, making a sandwich was hardly in the same league.
Shrugging off the thought, he presented her with the sandwich.
“This looks amazing.” Misty bit in and moaned a little.
The sound of it had his dick twitching.
“This bacon is delicious.”
Denver subtly adjusted his jeans. “Fresh from Maxwell Organics.”
“It shows.” She ceased all conversation and demolished the sandwich, then guzzled the ginger ale he’d poured her.
Amused, he crossed his arms. “Want chips or something?”
“No, this will hold me. I mostly just wanted an excuse to see you.” She slid off the stool and put her empty plate in the waiting dishwasher.
“You don’t need an excuse to see me.” He’d like to see a helluva lot more of her—in every sense.
Crossing over, she laid a hand on his chest. “This isn’t high school where the worst consequence of blowing off my responsibilities is maybe tanking my history test. We’ve got businesses to manage. And on that note, I hate to eat and run, but I’ve got deliveries to make.”
“I thought you had a high school kid helping you with that this summer.”
“I do, but he’s away on family vacation this week, so it’s all on me. It’s fine. There are only three, and then I’ll be blessedly done for the day.”
Denver could still hear the drumming rain on the roof. “The weather is really lousy. Can’t you put it off until later? Like tomorrow?”
“Nope. Two of them are anniversaries that are today and one is a birthday. They paid for delivery today, so I shall don my life preserver and row my way out as promised.”
Denver didn’t like it, but he understood her predicament. “You be careful out there. And let me know when you’re back, okay? I’ll feel better knowing when you and Moxie are settled in.”
“I promise.” With another smile, she rose to her toes and brushed a quick kiss over his mouth. “Thanks for the sandwich. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
It didn’t feel like soon enough, but he was on deck to bartend tonight. “I’ll walk you out.”
At the door, Denver watched her with the bright red umbrella as she fought the wind and rain back down the block to her shop.
Another massive roll of thunder shook the windows, and he frowned.
He really hated the idea of her on the twisty mountain roads in this downpour.
That thought made him pause again. Worrying about somebody else wasn’t something he’d been doing since his dad died.
Looked like Misty was breaking through all kinds of personal walls.
Walls he’d erected to protect himself from ever being stripped down to the bone again.