Chapter 39
J ericho
I park in front of the diner, right behind Cheryl’s cruiser. I decide not to wait and go to my demise without postponing.
Cheryl’s leaning one elbow on the counter with a smug look on her face. “Figured you’d be coming here.”
“Yep.” I pop the p .
Her laser eyes are focused on the pipes under my arm. “I think I need to know in case there’re questions.”
“There won’t be,” I say, cutting further questioning at the root.
“You sure?” She looks highly amused for someone who helped cover up a crime a few minutes ago.
“Positive.” I nod and walk past her to the kitchen.
She follows me. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t do the same if I didn’t wear this uniform.”
“Do what?” I turn to her with a deliberately slow blink.
“What’s going on, guys?” Nora asks, walking out of the kitchen. A quick exchange of meaningful looks between Cheryl and I, where I mentally beg/order her to stay quiet, seals the deal to keep our mouths shut while Nora is here.
“Nothing,” I reply, heading to the kitchen with the pipes under my arm.
“Oh! You found them!” She claps her hands, the happiness in her voice makes it worth the hiccup with the law.
“Yep,” I say as I shoot a glare toward Cheryl. “Found them in my truck. Had some leftovers from renovating the house.”
Cheryl scowls in response but keeps her mouth shut. I don’t want to involve Nora in any of my shenanigans, especially when it consists of borrowing something from Dick. If I get caught, I’ll be the only one responsible for that, so the less she knows, the better.
“I’m gonna be here.” I jerk my thumb at the kitchen.
“How long will it take to fix it?” Roman asks, materializing out of thin air.
“Maybe an hour.”
“Great.” He walks to one of the booths. “I’ll take a nap then.”
I crouch next to the sink and get to work.
The counter and half the wall make me invisible to the main room, but I can still hear everything going on out there just fine.
Nora and Cheryl start talking about something unrelated to my sticky fingers, so I zone out while I get to work.
I like it like that, me working at Nora’s place, and her voice in the background making the atmosphere comfortable.
But then, from the front, I hear a new voice. New. Male. Confident.
“Hey, you’re Nora, right?”
Didn’t you see the sign that it’s closed, moron?
“Yeah,” she says. Friendly. Open. The way she always is.
“I’m Nick. I think we met at the store yesterday?” Is he asking her or saying? Ball-less . “You told me to come here instead of that new place—Dick’s, was it? ”
She laughs. “Yeah. I said don’t waste your appetite on Dick’s Diner.”
Nick chuckles. “Yeah, the name doesn’t exactly scream ‘five stars.’ I figured it was a joke at first.”
She laughs again. “Yeah, it’s… unfortunate branding.”
“I’m glad I came here though. The company and service are much better,” he says. Such a douchebag pickup line .
I keep my head down, working the bolt, jaw clenched so hard it hurts. When did she have a chance to meet this guy and invite him over?
Nora’s laughter rings through the room like little bells. Little warning bells to my sanity. Too happy and too loud.
“She’s enjoying the company.” Cheryl’s voice sounds like metal scraping over a pile of sand. I look up to find her leaning her shoulder on the doorframe with a smug look on her annoying face.
“Is she?” I grunt, returning to work.
“Yep.” The damn loud p . “Looks like,” she glances back over her shoulder, “he’s asking her out.”
The pipe gives way under the wretch, pulling the higher sitting pipe along with it, and water from the u-bend spills out and hits me full in the face. I cough, sputtering, grabbing for something to sop up the liquid.
“Can you be useful and get some damn towels?”
Cheryl takes off with a smirk. “Only because I don’t want my sister’s diner to be flooded. Not because you told me to.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I got it.” I sit there on the wet floor, clothes soaked and shirt clinging to my chest. Water is dripping from my beard.
“Holy moly.” Nora’s voice breaks through my sulking. “What happened?”
“Cheryl happened,” I bark more harshly than I intended to.
“What?” She sounds confused, and rightfully so .
It’s shitty to put the blame on her sister, so I quickly correct myself. “I busted the pipe.”
“Did you?” Now her tone is suspicious.
“Yes.” I pull away from the cabinet to find Nora with an amused look on her face. “I’ll clean this up.” I sit back, soaked and fuming.
“Don’t worry.” She waves me off. “It was bound to happen, Roman was right.”
Cheryl shows up a moment later with an armful of towels.
“Smooth,” she laughs, earning a death stare from me.
“It happens.” Nora shrugs her shoulders with a smile.
“It does. Doesn’t it, Jericho?” Cheryl’s tone is full of glee, and I wonder how much Nora loves her sister in case I decide to kill her because she’s playing on my nerves. “To think of it?—”
She doesn’t have a chance to continue because her radio goes off, and she picks it up, muttering, “Saved by the bell,” and then walks out to the dining area and then outside. Thank fuck because I’m one breath away from exploding, and Cheryl just found my go-off button.
Nora walks away before returning with two steaming coffees in her hands and passes one of them to me. “Here. For your suffering.”
I take it, still not looking at her. She sits back against the counter and starts sipping her coffee.
“He seems nice,” I start my own punishment because I’m clearly a masochist.
“Who?” She blinks.
“Nick.” I try to sound even but don’t think it’s working.
“You think so?” she asks and starts blowing on the hot liquid in the cup.
I grunt.
“I haven’t noticed.” Her voice twitches very strangely at the end. “He just moved into town. Said I made a good first impression. I think he was trying to flirt. ”
Thank fuck I didn’t have a hammer in my hands because there’re only so many unbruised fingers I have left. “Was he?”
“Maybe.”
I look up to find her watching me with a half smile on her face. “Did you flirt back?”
“What do you think?” She takes another sip, hiding behind the rim of the cup.
I shrug.
“I was being nice. It’s part of my job.”
I grunt again.
“If I’m not nice,” she continues, “people won’t come here.”
One more grunt.
“What?” she asks with a loud sigh.
“He your type?”
She tilts her head. “Are we really doing this?”
“Humor me.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Her laser eyes are focused on my face; I feel the pressure of her gaze. It’s almost palpable. “If I hadn’t already been waiting around for someone else to do something, I might have flirted back.”
I glance up at her. “You say yes to him?”
She rolls her eyes. “Did you hear a word I just said?”
“No. Yes.” I shake my head. “But that’s not the point.”
“Then what is?” The twinkle of her lips returns.
I tighten my hold on the wretch I’m still holding in my hand, so I don’t punch the wall. “I thought you’d be going out with me.”
“Have you asked me out?” She quirks a brow.
“Wasn’t it obvious?”
“No.” She smiles. “You come and fix things. You clear my driveway.” She lowers her voice. “You kiss me. But you don’t say anything.” Her brows draw together. “Or even do anything anymore.”
“I didn’t say anything?” I ask .
“Isn’t that what I just said?”
I blink. Then blink again. I have two options. I can lead this conversation into a fight. Or I can admit to something I’m not good at and see how she’ll take it.
“I don’t know how to say… things,” I start with a loud sigh of resignation. “But I know how to do them.”
“Are you trying to explain to me your love language?” Her voice lightens while my chest weighs down with fear at the word.
Love language. Love. Is that what this is? Love? I just fix things for her to make her life more comfortable and want to protect her from the whole world.
“I—” I swallow the driest lump in my throat. “I don’t know.”
She’s waiting without pushing me further, giving me a chance to explain something I don’t even have a name for.
I stare at her. She waits. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
“That’s okay,” she starts when the waiting hits a dead end. We both know I won’t move anywhere from this spot. “Can you fix that pipe? We gotta reopen the diner.”
“Sure.” And I go back to what I’m really good at—fixing things without talking.