10. Gianna
Takinga sip of the coffee I just bought at the local coffee shop, Books N’ Brew, I breathe in the sweet mountain air and try to figure out what I should do for dinner. Cam, reliably, bailed, saying he picked up a sandwich from a small eatery at the end of Main Street.
“Gia!”
I whip my head around and find Henry jogging over to me.
The instinct to scurry away and disappear erupts out of nowhere. It scares me a little at how comfortable I am around him. It’s innate and based on so little that it feels impossible. How do I reconcile that I barely know him but feel like I do? What do I do with that? I take a small step back, not quite ready for another Henry interaction.
And yet I’m already smiling…
What is wrong with me?
“Hi, Henry. How are you?”
“I’m amazing. Just on my way to grab dinner. Do you want to join?”
“Uh, I don’t think so.” Of course the moment the words leave my mouth, my body completely betrays me. My stomach growls loudly enough that there’s no chance I can deny my hunger.
“You sure? My treat.” He whips out his megawatt charming grin, and I don’t think I can say no.
Against my better judgment, sharing a meal with him actually sounds really nice. “I guess dinner would be nice.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure, why not? I’ve been trying to figure out where I should grab food.”
“What’re you in the mood for?” He quirks an eyebrow and steps into my space to allow the two people walking toward us to pass.
The question is clearly meant to be innocent, but something about his delivery has the need that’s been ever present since we slept together curling low in my stomach.
This is why I shouldn’t be getting dinner with him. This is why I should be steering clear altogether. I’m here for a job, and there’s no reason for me to get into some kind of entanglement with a local.
Even if he’s the nicest man I’ve ever met and also the best sex I’ve ever had.
Those things actually make my commitment to not dating or doing anything with him more important.
It would be so simple to fall into something with him. I just know it. Have a little fun, have some good sex while I’m in town working.
But no. It’s not in the cards. It’s not happening.
I just have to get through dinner, and after that I can try to avoid him. I can just stay in my room at the bed and breakfast most of the time. Which, because most of my work can be done on a computer, is doable but potentially miserable. “I’m game for anything,” I say.
His face lights up like the Fourth of July, and I cringe internally, thinking he’s going to steer this conversation somewhere sexual.
It’s what most other guys I’ve known would do. It’s like a knee-jerk reaction for them. It’s also annoying when you never intended the conversation to be anywhere near sexual in nature.
When he doesn’t, I breathe a sigh of relief.
”Let’s head to Daisy’s. Their Thursday special is incredible.” He sweeps his hand in front of him, and we start off in the direction of the diner.
We’re only a few blocks away, and neither of us seems to need to fill in the quiet with small talk. I try to focus on the feel of the sidewalk under my thin flats and the brisk wind that’s cutting through my coat. Anything that’s not the brush of Henry’s arm against mine or the subtle scent of spice that always seems to cling to him.
But with every deep breath I take of the clean, fresh air, I draw in his scent. It’s intoxicating. And every step I take, I gravitate closer and closer to him as if there’s an invisible pull I can’t fight.
Luckily for me, we’re finally in front of Daisy’s Diner. Henry reaches around me, pulling the door open and waiting for me to walk ahead.
The tinkling of the small bell on the door rings around us as I step into the diner and somehow back in time. One step inside and I remember exactly why I loved this place so much.
It’s the classic black and white checked floor, the antique jukebox in the corner playing Brown-Eyed Girl, the bright red stools at the counter, and the booths where people are having their meals.
And I’d be lying if I said the smell of fried foods and pancakes and bacon doesn’t completely reel me in.
“Where do you want to sit?” Henry places a hand softly at the small of my back and despite how thick my jacket is, my skin tingles under his touch.
“I like a booth.” Darting a look over my shoulder, he nods before he steers me toward the jukebox.
He stops us a few booths down from the jukebox and slides into the booth after shedding his jacket. Grabbing a menu, he starts looking casually through it while I just stand there for a moment, watching him.
A deep, foreboding feeling sits heavy in my chest. There’s a very real chance that by sitting down and sharing this meal with him, I might be completely screwing myself over.
I just have a sneaking feeling that pretending he doesn’t exist and pretending I don’t want to sleep with him again after this isn’t going to be the easiest part of my stay here in Ever Lake.
Can I walk away? Somehow avoid him for the next few weeks?
No.
The answer flies to the forefront of my consciousness before I can even fully form the question in my mind.
Obviously, we won’t be picking up where we left off; that’s out of the question. But I have to be able to be friendly with him. I can’t just lock myself in my room at the BB and never venture out into town. As fun as that sounds.
Yes, because being friendly with him would kill you?
It might.
Resolving to have this one meal with him and then keep him at arm”s length, I slide into the booth across from him. I unzip my coat and let it fall off of my shoulders and settle behind my back.
I grab a menu at the same time Henry puts his down. “You know what you’re having?” I ask, letting my eyes skim the dozens of options on the menu.
Then I remember why it was so difficult to eat here.
Everything looks good.
“The special.” His response is immediate, as if there was never a question as to what he was going to order.
“What exactly is this special?” I turn over the menu, trying to find where he saw it with no luck.
“Ah, it’s a Hank special. He’s not in the kitchen as much now that he owns the place, but when he is, his special is on the menu.” He clearly notices me trying to find it on the menu.
“So it’s like a super-secret Ever Lake local thing?”
“Yeah, kinda. Hank’s from Rochester, New York, and it’s inspired by a dish from out there. But he did name it partially after me since I love it so much.”
“Really? Sounds like you’re a regular town celebrity with your personalized diner special.”
A hint of pink colors his cheeks, and he tries not to smile but can’t help it in the end. And of course when he smiles, so do I. If this were a date, which it a million percent is not, this would be a great start to it.
There’s that familiar fluttery feeling low in my stomach, something between excitement and nerves. It feels nice. And I can’t help but think how much it shouldn’t.
“So, what is it exactly?” I lean forward over my menu and prop my chin onto my hand.
“It’s basically a catch-all meal. In Rochester, it’s called a garbage plate. Wait, hear me out before you make that face.” He holds up a hand, noting the small grimace that must be curling my lip. “I get it with a cheeseburger, but you can get it with other meats. It comes with two sides. I get some Mac salad and French fries. Then it’s covered in some meat sauce, ketchup and mustard, some onions, and buffalo sauce. It comes with a slice of buttered bread. It looks disgusting, I’ll be honest. But it’s delicious.”
“Oh, that does sound good.”
“It’s great. Hank’s the only one who makes them here at the diner. I’m probably the only one who orders them on a regular basis, but everyone knows that if they want one, they’ve gotta come on Thursdays.”
A waitress walks up to the table. The older woman, who has warm brown skin, a bright red painted smile, curly gray hair pulled up into a high ponytail on her head, grins at Henry.
“Hey there, Hammer. Are you here for your special?” Her soft southern twang seems out of place up here in the mountains, but she’s very clearly an Ever Lake local.
“Sure am. Thank you, Denise. This is my friend Gianna.” Henry glances at me with a suddenly tense smile.
Confused, I try to give him a reassuring smile, although I’m not sure what I’m reassuring him of.
“Welcome to Ever Lake, Gianna. First time?” Denise leans her hip against Henry’s side of the booth so she faces me. She’s smiling and has her pen poised against her notepad.
“Uh, no actually, second.” My eyes move to Henry’s again, and I can see that he’s remembering the last time I was in town. I shut down the memories that try to force their way to the forefront of my mind, feeling my cheeks burn under Denise’s stare.
“Well, welcome back. Can’t say I see Hammer bringing too many girls out for dinner dates.” She laughs softly. “What can I get you, honey?”
“Oh, I’ll take the club sandwich, please. With the seasoned fries, thank you.” Smiling up at her, I slide my menu to the side.
“Waters?” She looks at the two of us, and we both nod. “Alrighty, I’ll be back in a sec. Let me know if there’s anything else.” Shooting a wink my way, she disappears to go put our orders in.
Once she’s gone, I realize she didn’t call him by his name. “What’s Hammer about?” He winces when I say the name, and I immediately regret asking. “Never mind, that’s none of my business.”
“No, no. It’s fine. It’s just a nickname. I’ve had it since I was a kid.” His explanation is quick and to the point.
“Oh, okay.”
“Pretty much everyone in town calls me that. I don’t hear my real name all that much.” He says it with a smile, but there’s a stark sadness evident in his words, and I hate the way hearing it makes me feel.
“Well, I, for one, love the name Henry, so I’m glad you introduced yourself that way when we met,” I tell him and watch in real time as some of that sadness seeps away.
“I’m glad. So, talk to me, back in town for business?”
“I am. It should be a pretty big project. I’ll be pretty busy.” I make a point to say that. Creating a barrier of sorts. We can’t spend time together if I’m up to my eyeballs with work. “How’s work going for you?”
I remember him talking passionately about his business, and I honestly would rather talk about him.
“Oh!” He looks surprised that I bothered to ask. “It’s been great, actually. I’m in the middle of trying to bring on someone else to help out. Business has been growing a lot. I’ve expanded to two more towns in the last few weeks, and I’m starting to have to turn appointments down.”
“That’s great.” I smile, genuinely happy to hear he’s doing so well.
“It’s great that I’m having to turn away customers?”
“It’s great that you’re so busy and that so many people want to work with you that you have to. But I agree that if you can, you should bring someone into your operation.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He nods his head, looking thoughtful. “Honestly, I’ve been thinking about it for the last year, but I didn’t want to start looking into it until I was sure I would be able to pay someone well enough. I already feel bad that I can’t offer benefits, so I want to make sure I offset that as well as I can. I just know how rough it can be. I’m only a year and a half away from getting kicked off my parents’ insurance.”
“That’s…admirable. It sounds like you’ve been working really hard and planning for this expansion.”
“I have. It’s been a long time coming.” His pride is clear as day, and it looks like he’s about to say something else, but Denise chooses that moment to bring our food by.
We lapse into a comfortable silence while we eat. More than a couple of people wave and say hello to Henry as they come and go from the diner. By the time we’ve finished, he looks more tired than I felt earlier.
True to his word, he covers the bill, even after I try to fight him on it.
“I said it’s on me, Gia, so it’s on me,” he admonishes me before pulling out enough cash to cover our meals and a pretty nice tip. “Can I walk you home?”
We both stand and pull our jackets on, and my first instinct is to say no. My next isn’t so much an instinct as it is a reaction to Simone’s voice whispering in my head.
There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun.
The thought makes me cringe because it’s incredibly presumptuous. He’s just offering to walk me home, probably because it’s dark now. And cold. And he might think I need some help finding my way back. Whatever it is, it’s not because he wants to have fun with me.
Before I let my thoughts run away, I give him an answer. “Sure, thank you.”
We step out into the chill, but even the cutting wind doesn’t cool down the thoughts that race through my mind despite my best efforts.
Maybe I’m the one who wants a repeat with Henry. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I do.