Chapter Two
Danny walked back into Kenzie’s life on one of those frigid March mornings when it felt as though spring had been just joking and winter wasn’t going anywhere after all.
She pushed through the swinging door, butt first because she was holding a tray of lunch plates, and when she turned, there he was.
Danny Kowalski sitting at the counter, wearing a soft blue sweater that perfectly matched his eyes.
There should be a law against that, she thought as the plates clinked on the tray and she had to shift her weight to keep from dropping the entire thing.
His eyes were intense enough without drawing more attention to them.
“Hey, stranger,” she said as she walked past. She couldn’t stop and talk to him while holding up somebody’s lunch—literally. “I’ll be right with you.”
Delivering the plates to the big round table in the corner, where three retired couples met for lunch at least once a month, gave Kenzie time to get her reaction to seeing Danny under control.
At least, she hoped it was. Carrying a heavy tray gave her a reason for having flushed cheeks and being slightly out of breath, but that excuse was only good for about a minute.
After delivering the meal, she ducked back through the door to leave the tray by the dishwashing station. She smoothed wisps of hair back from her face and made sure there wasn’t anything clinging to her apron.
Then she took a deep breath and pushed the door open before walking through it, preferring not to do the butt-first thing this time. “Sorry about that.”
“No problem. How was your winter?”
“Slower than usual. The lack of snow hit pretty hard, but we’re still here. How was yours? Did you finish your book?”
Some of the light went out of his eyes, though he tried to hide it with a casual shrug. “Not yet.”
She leaned her hip against the edge of the counter. “The last time I saw you, your publisher and agent were already at the end of their ropes, so you were going to hibernate for the winter and get it done. Were their ropes longer than you thought?”
“Um…no. I basically have until the end of this month to give them something coherent or they’re going to send some very scary people my way.”
Her eyebrow quirked. “Mob enforcers?”
“Lawyers.”
“Ew.” She grimaced. “Even worse.”
“Yeah. So here I am, and I’m not going home until the book is done.”
“That’s a solid plan.” She looked at the clock. “But we do close in a few hours, so type fast.”
His laughter rang through the restaurant, and Kenzie saw a few heads turn.
Possibly even worse, her father stepped into view on the other side of the pass-through window to find out what was going on.
The last thing she needed was Frank thinking she was flirting with Danny because she’d never hear the end of it.
He could be merciless in his teasing, especially if he remembered she was rereading the man’s book.
“Anyway,” she said, angling her body slightly so she couldn’t see her dad through the corner of her eye. “If I see you in here, procrastinating, do you want me to throw you out? I can ban you for life if it helps. There’s a Corinne’s Kitchen blacklist, and you could be number four.”
“I’m curious what gets a person banned.”
“Nope. I’m not telling you because you should be working. See? I can just toss you out if that’s what you want.”
“I want the opposite, actually.” The sheepish grin made his blue eyes crinkle, and her pulse quickened in response. “I need you, Kenzie.”
Her hand twitched, wanting to reach for the nearest menu so she could fan away the rush of heat across her cheeks. I need you, Kenzie.
She didn’t even know what he was talking about, but with that smile and the eyes and the low voice taking her breath away, she didn’t really care. Anything, she wanted to say. Literally.
A call from a far table broke the spell. “Hey, Kenzie, can I get more gravy?”
She smiled at Danny. “You’re not alone. Hold that thought, and I’ll be right back.”
To give herself a chance to settle down, Kenzie took her time delivering the small dish of gravy to the customer who asked for it, and then checking to see if anybody else needed anything.
As she approached Danny again, she wiped her hands on her apron and watched him place the menu back in its holder.
“Did you want something to eat? I probably should have asked that already seeing as how it’s literally my job.”
He chuckled. “I ate on the road, but I might have a turkey sandwich and a cup of the minestrone soup since I don’t know what’s in the fridge at the campground, or what Rob and Hannah have planned for supper.”
“You haven’t been there yet?” She wrote his order down and put it in the window for Frank.
“I came straight here. I don’t have a lot of time on my hands, so I wanted to ask you straight away if I can email you a copy of the manuscript so you can read it and give me your thoughts.”
Kenzie’s eyes widened. Danny had mentioned in multiple interviews that absolutely nobody got a peek at his manuscripts until the first draft was complete.
While several of the hosts had implied it was a superstition, he said he couldn’t have outside voices in his mind while he was forming the story.
But she didn’t mention that because she wasn’t sure if it would seem weird she’d looked him up online.
“I would have called,” he continued, “but I don’t have your cell number.”
As if the universe had decided today was a good day to mess with Danny Kowalski, the old phone on the wall—the kind with a long, coiled cord—jangled. They were both laughing as she lifted the handset.
“Corinne’s Kitchen. How can I help you?”
By the time she’d written down the take-out order and passed it to her dad, the turkey sandwich was in the window. She set it in front of him, and then got him some crackers while Frank ladled the soup into a cup.
Then she had customers ready to cash out, while two different parties entered and sat down. By the time she was able to get back to Danny, the soup was gone and he’d put quite a dent in the sandwich.
“Back to the book,” she said. “Would I need to sign some kind of NDA? Or swear on my dad’s meatloaf I won’t spoil the ending for your readers?”
His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “No NDA, but if you could spoil the ending for me, that would actually be helpful.”
“You’ll figure it out.” She wanted to cover his hand with hers as an act of comfort, but touching him felt like too much. “I’ll help you.”
The relief that softened his expression and let his shoulders drop surprised her. There was no reason for him to think she was in any way qualified to offer any writer advice, never mind one as accomplished as him. They’d had fun knocking some ideas around last year, but this felt bigger than that.
“I appreciate it.” When she scribbled her email address and cell number on an order slip and slid it to him, he covered it with his hand for a moment before taking out his phone.
After he typed something out, her phone buzzed in her pocket.
“I’ll email you the document when I get set up at the house, but I sent a text so you’d have my number.
And don’t expect much, okay? I mean, it’s a first draft. It’s not perfect.”
“I’ll read it for the story, not for counting commas or catching dangling… I forget which part of speech dangles.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Me, too. That’s just one of the reasons copy editors are my favorite people.”
“Order up,” Frank called, his deep voice carrying into the dining room.
“Thanks again,” he said, standing and sliding cash under the edge of his plate. “I’ll email you later. I really think you and I will be great together.”
“Looking forward to it,” she said, and then she turned to get the plates out of the window, thankful for the distraction that would keep her from watching him walk out—especially since the customers would probably be watching her stare at his butt.
It was another hour before she had time to pull her phone out of her back pocket, wanting to save Danny’s contact info before he got lost in the sea of vendors, customers, family members and scammers that lit up her phone on a regular basis.
The text message only had his name, but the words he said before he left echoed in her mind.
I really think you and I will be great together.
She didn’t think he’d done it deliberately—he had to be talking about the book, of course—but Kenzie knew she had another night of tossing and turning in front of her.
* * *
There were no lights on in the combination campground office and store, so Danny pulled past it and into the driveway area for the house that had come with the campground.
The entire property had been in rough shape when they bought it, the previous owners having let some of the upkeep go due to age, but the house had been most in need in of updating.
Unfortunately, when one part of the property generated income and the other was an expense, where to allocate the money and energy they could scrape up wasn’t much of a decision.
Once the campground closed for the season, though, Rob and Hannah had thrown themselves into DIY renovations on the house.
Nothing fancy, according to them, because money was tight.
But Danny also knew the rest of the family had helped as much as possible—especially their dad’s cousin Sean, who was a builder.
While Danny had been pacing his office, trying to turn copious amounts of coffee into words, they’d made some changes, and he was eager to see them.
He’d parked and was walking around to the passenger side to grab a few things when his brother walked out to greet him.
“I appreciate you guys letting me come up here,” Danny said.
Rob laughed. “Can’t really stop you since you also own it.”
“You know what I mean. You and Hannah are trying to get stuff done, and I’ll do my best not to get in the way.”