“Me? Ask deep, personal questions of someone I barely knew? I would nev—Er. Okay, I wouldmaybe,” Brian admitted. He pulled a fifth chair over to the tiny table and crowded in next to Hen. “I accept this.”
“But now you’re one of us, arncha, Mark?” Hen waggled his eyebrows at me. “Once you’ve been to a Pumpkin Festanda Light Parade,andyou’ve taken up a shovel to defend the town from blizzards, you’re a true O’Learian.”
I chuckled. I really did love this town.
“But as a true O’Learian, the time has now come for you to spill your guts and let us sort your love life, the same way you helped me sort mine last spring,” Brian informed me. “It’s tradition. So sit your ass down.”
I sighed and pulled off my apron, then came around the counter and sat, as directed. And once I started talking, I found it was almost a relief to share it with someone.
Withfoursomeones.
“So, back in San Diego, I worked my way through college at this diner called Uptown Egg, where I swear I poured coffee for every sailor in Coronado. That’s how I met Ash Martin, when he was in the Navy.” I cleared my throat. “And, um, that’s also how I met Fran. You know how he has an engineering degree? Well, he was already out of the military for a few years and working on some kind of technical drafting contract at the time, and—”
“Wait, Fran has an engineering degree?” Brian sounded impressed.
“Did you think he was a professional hermit?” Liam wanted to know. “What would be the revenue stream for that?”
“No! Or maybe? Just… that’s impressive. I’ve worked with a bunch of drafters in construction. It’s a cool job.”
“Technical drawing isverycool,” Everett agreed. “I took a few classes in school and you have to be both creativeandlogically inclined. You’ll all note that I stayed firmly on the creative side.”
“’Cause my grandson’s got a gift for art,” Hen said seriously, patting Ev’s hand.
Ev smiled and rolled his eyes at the same time.
“Anyway, back to Fran,” Liam prompted. “He came into the diner and charmed the heckity out of you… Then what?”
I shook my head and felt my lips tip up in a smile I couldn’t stop and didn’t want to. “Actually, no, the exact opposite. Lots of guys flirted with me.Lots. But Fran was different. He was gorgeous. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark beard. And really tall—”
“Yep. Must be six foot seven if he’s an inch,” Hen agreed. “And a build to go along with it.” He lifted his shoulders in an impression of the Incredible Hulk.
“Uh huh. But he never flirted. He was always really polite. Even a little gruff, but in the best possible way. Like, the first night I met him, this sailor was being a total douche canoe, complaining about everything I served him, right? And then Fran leaned over and said, ‘You forgot to tell Mark thank you for bringing your sorry ass any coffee at all, Ensign,’ in this super deep, dangerous voice.” I snorted. “The dude almost pissed himself. He was all, ‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Thank you, Mark.’ And Fran turned around and looked at me with these dark eyes that just—”
Killed me.
Slayed me where I stood.
Sank all the way to my soul, the way they always would, whether he was laughing about Ensign No Manners or asking me about my dreams.
“Oh, boy,” Brian breathed, staring at me.
“Mmhmm,” Ev said. “I’m getting tingles and we haven’t gotten to the good part yet.”
“Me too.” Henry leaned in closer. “Then what?”
“Well, then Fran said…” I bit my lip. “He said, ‘I’m sorry life’s treated you unkindly tonight. Do you want to sit down and have some blueberry pancakes with me?’”
I laughed helplessly, remembering the tenderness in his voice, and felt myself fall for him a little bit all over again.
“As pickup lines go, that’s not the suavest ever,” Brian noted.
“Nope,” I said happily. “But it worked on me, let me just tell you. I was all-in, right from that first minute, and he was, too, even if it took us a couple months before we did anything physical.”
And that slow build had been even sweeter.
“He’s a big guy. He intimidates a lot of people. I think he wanted to make sure I was totally comfortable with him, so he showed up for nearly every one of my shifts—four evenings a week—for amonth. He’d always show up at the end of the night, too, so I could grab a coffee after I cashed out and sit with him if I wanted to. And at the end of every night, he’d say, ‘Mind if I come back and see you again?’ and I justknewif I said I didn’t want him to come, he wouldn’t.”
Like I’d ever not wanted him. The rare days he hadn’t made it, I’d nearly cried.
