Chapter 3
BLAKE
Eyeing Walker in my rearview mirror, I smirk. He’s standing there as the snow clings to his shoulders and the brim of his hat. The cold paints his cheeks red, but the rouge could be from the fact that I didn’t do as he wanted me to.
As usual.
Seeing him, all the feelings I had the day I left came rushing back. I tried to kiss him, and he turned me away. Embarrassed, I exploded and said things I didn’t mean.
I thought distance and time would have helped me build up a tolerance to the man, but that tolerance threw itself into the fire when I laid eyes on Walker again. I wanted to run my hands over his broad shoulders, wrap myself in his thick arms, and bask in the way his eyes see me—truly see me.
Another glance and Walker’s sharp gaze let me know that he’s not happy. I’d feel bad if he hadn’t handcuffed me like I was some sort of criminal.
I’m always down for a good time, but I imagined Walker using handcuffs for a whole different reason. And arresting me, or detaining me as he likes to call it, is not what I thought would happen when I finally saw him again. In all honesty, I wasn’t ready to see Walker.
Maybe that’s my real reason for not wanting to come clean with him. I’m not actually ready to see any of them.
The men I’ve been head over heels for since I was a child.
Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been telling myself that it was just a childhood crush and that I’d feel differently when I finally came face-to-face with them again.
But if how I’m feeling right now is any indication, my childhood crush has turned into an adult infatuation.
Sighing, I slouch into my seat.
Oh well.
With my anonymity out the window, I decide I no longer need to stay away from the food establishment that I’ve been dreaming of for the last decade.
Main Street Diner.
Pulling into the parking lot, I find the last available spot and make my way inside. As expected, the place is packed. Martha and Gus McCall’s cooking has never failed to satisfy the masses.
Heat rolls over me the second I step inside. The smell of bacon grease, maple syrup, and fresh coffee wraps around me like a blanket. Every booth is filled with familiar and unfamiliar faces alike, conversations blending beneath the clatter of silverware.
I spot the last available table in the corner, covered in worn laminate.
Sitting in the booth, I take a quick glance over the menu and note that not a single item has changed.
A group of men dressed in work clothes chatters at the bar, sitting on their mismatched stools.
Friends and family occupy the remaining tables, enjoying their meals.
The scent of bacon grease, coffee, and maple syrup hangs in the air.
Evergreen Falls High School memorabilia covers one wall beside a collection of framed photographs showcasing rodeo champions and the Rocky Mountains.
The vinyl booths have been patched so many times that no two seats are quite the same shade of red.
An oversized mug is set in front of me, and the waitress immediately fills it with coffee. “What can I get you, sweetheart?” she asks without looking in my direction and pulls out a pad and pen for my order.
A smile tugs at the corner of my lips as I peer up at Martha’s heart-shaped face. She looks exactly the same. Expressive eyes, a tender smile, and a button nose. Her style hasn’t changed either. Flannel and denim—a common choice in this town.
It’s about lunchtime, but I have a craving for my favorite. “French toast, extra crispy, and can you put the butter between the slices instead of on top?”
Martha stops scribbling, finally looks at me, and beams. Her hands find my own and pull me from the booth, wrapping me in a warm hug. “Well, I’ll be. Blake Jennings. What’re you doing back here? Last I saw you, you were hightailing it out of dodge.”
Three heads immediately turn.
Small towns never let a secret stay a secret for long.
Martha doesn’t give me time to answer her question as she pulls back and turns her head toward the kitchen. “Gus!”
“What?” a gruff voice shouts back, gaining the attention of a few customers.
“Look who’s here!”
A tall, broad-shouldered man steps out from the kitchen behind the counter, rubbing his hands on a dish towel. His white shirt and light-wash jeans are spotted with grease stains. The smattering of gray hair on the sides of his head is the only indication that time has passed.
His expression brightens, and the corner of his mouth curves upward. “Are my eyes working, or is that Blake Jennings?”
Martha releases me, passing me to Gus, who greets me the same way. The smell of bacon radiates from his clothes as I bury my face in his shoulder.
Gus lets me go but keeps his hands on my shoulders. “It’s good to see you, Squirt.”
His smile causes a warmth to spread through my chest.
“Get the girls some food. We need to feed her so well that she doesn’t leave again,” Martha directs to her husband.
A pang of guilt stabs at me. Once I figure things out, I’m gone. This town has too many ghosts for me to stick around.
“French toast?” he questions.
“French toast,” Martha confirms as she leads me back to my seat and sits across from me. “I should be cross with you. No calls, no letters. I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t…” My throat closes up as I try to explain. I’ve never been able to say out loud exactly what made me leave.
It’s too much. Too heavy.
Martha envelopes my hand in both of hers. “I understand. We all have things we’d rather stay buried. You don’t have to tell me why you left. You don’t even have to tell me why you came back. I’m just happy you’re here.”
“Thank you,” I return with a half-smile.
Martha and Gus have always been good to me.
When I was little, before Daddy passed, Mama worked here.
And when she chose to drown her sorrows instead of going to work, Martha had to let Mama go, but that didn’t stop Martha and Gus from making sure I was fed.
If it weren’t for them, I’m not sure I would have survived.
Patting my hand, Martha rises to her feet. “I’m going to go check on your food. Anything else I can get you? A milkshake?”
“No, thank you.”
Before heading for the kitchen, Martha looks me over like she can’t believe I’m actually here.
That makes two of us.
Sighing, I rub my eyes and take a sip of my coffee. Scanning the diner, I pray that our reunion didn’t draw too much unwanted attention. Just because I’ve given up on being incognito doesn’t mean I want a parade of greetings.
My gaze meets a pair of steel-gray eyes, intent on mine. My heart practically skips a beat as I recognize another of Dad’s best friends.
Grant Calloway.
Another man I was never supposed to want.
He bought me a bike the Christmas after Daddy died because Mama sold mine. I always loved his military haircut and the dimples he gets when he flashes a genuine smile.
I lift my hand to wave and say hello, but he slides his chair back abruptly, causing me to flinch at the grating sound. His mouth thins to a firm line, and the veins in his neck pop out livid corrugations.
Grant tosses some cash on the table next to his half-eaten sandwich and glass of pop and storms out of the diner, the door shutting vehemently behind him.
Closing my mouth after I realize it’s open, I feel heat creep up the back of my neck and darken my ears. I try not to look around again, but I can’t help but want to make sure no one else noticed Grant’s reaction.
Still, too many people are eyeing me, but one stands out among the rest.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
She tosses her thick copper hair over one shoulder, snagging her designer purse and beelining straight for me. Her sharp eyes attempt to pierce me like she’s trying to wear me down before her words have a chance to punch me in the gut.
Fortunately, I built up a tolerance to her bullshit a long time ago.
Standing over me, she sports a cold smile. “Well, if it isn’t Evergreen Falls’ trashiest runaway. What brings you back here, Blake?”
I return her fake sentiments. “Victoria Wood. How are you?”
She brandishes her left hand, flashing me a huge diamond and gold band on her ring finger. “It’s Reynolds. Bridger and I tied the knot. He’s the mayor now.”
Head cheerleader and star football player. The mean girl and the asshole. A match made in heaven.
“Good for you,” I half-heartedly congratulate her.
Victoria’s smile gets tighter as she squints her eyes. “How long are you in town for?”
I shrug. “However long is needed.”
Her voice is soft, but her words are anything but. “Evergreen Falls doesn’t need more trash, so feel free to leave at any time.” Her eyes drift over my clothing, and she sneers as if it’s the most offensive thing she’s ever seen.
I match my tone to hers. “And they don’t need a bitch either, yet here you are.”
Victoria finally drops her phony pleasantries. “Same old Blake.”
“Same old Victoria.”
Her eyes narrow. “Just stay away from my man.”
The delusions of this woman never cease to amaze me. Bridger was the typical rich kid and acted like he was too good for me until one night when he drunkenly decided that no means yes. I ended up breaking his arm, and he told everyone I wanted it.
As if I’d travel thousands of miles just to see the man who tried to assault me.
I scoff. “That won’t be a problem. Never was.”
Victoria turns her nose up at me and stomps away, shoving open the diner door and leaving.
And now that I’ve given the whole place a show, all eyes are on me.
Now that’s more like the welcome home I was expecting.