I don’t sidestep fast enough, and the snot grenade ricochets off my shin. “Ugh. You’re proving my point. That’s disgusting, Oak.”
“Well, you deserved it.” She sticks out her tongue.
I return the sentiment. “Alrighty, guess we’ll have to settle this another day. For now, I’m off to bed.”
Her snort sounds a lot like a sneeze. “Sweet dreams.” In a syrupy tone, she adds, “Take notes, sissy…because I’m going to ask all about them in the morning.”
Chapter 6
Everly
An elbow ramming into my side jolts me out of my stare.
“Now there’s a cutie for you, hon.” Marlene flutters her ridiculous eyelashes. I’ve worn fake lashes a total of one time, applied by a professional makeup artist when I was a bridesmaid in a friend’s wedding. I tried a couple times myself and gave up. Honestly, how long does Marlene spend gluing those arachnids on each morning?
The elbow’s second assault digs deeper, nearly parting my ribs. “But I see you’ve already noticed.”
“Ouch!” Massaging my side, I skulk deeper into my hiding spot behind the restaurant-grade coffee maker. “He’s alright, I guess.”
Marlene huffs insultingly—okay, gratingly—skeptical. In the sundown of middle age, Marlene has been waiting tables for Uncle Charlie since I was a preteen. While she’s twice my age and has a horrible relationship track record, she isn’t dumb enough to buy a word I’m saying. Kind of like Oakley, she has some sort of Everly-radar that’s picked up on Knox, even though I haven’t uttered a solitary word about last night.
Knox is more than alright. Not sure how I missed it on day one. I mean, maybe he isn’t the most classically handsome man, but he seems kind, and his hardy appeal screamsI’m the guy you want around when stuff hits the fan.And, by the time he left last night, his dimpled smile was registering on the toe-curling meter.
Speaking of curling, my stomach has been in a twist all day. Thoughts of Knox possibly reappearing did that. But why? Cute and kind are fine qualities, but alone, they in no way mean two people are a match. What could he and I possibly have in common? I like book talk in a coffee shop, or academic podcasts that stretch my mind during my daily commute.
Girl, you are way ahead of yourself.
I breathe a sigh of both regret and relief at the realization Knox, intently perusing the menu, is in Marlene’s section. “Well, lucky you, you get to be the one to flirt with him tonight.”
Marlene spins. “Uh-uh, hon. You told me I could leave a few minutes early again if we wasn’t busy.”
I did say that, didn’t I? Out of the goodness of her heart—that and needing extra spending money for the holidays—she’s been working longer hours as needed. Unluckily for my instinct tohide, on no scale do two tables qualify as a rush. I mean, I could probably insist. Teddy, her adorable dog, surely could hold his legs together an extra half hour if I needed her, right?
She presses a fist into her skinny hipbone. “The man is all yours, sweetheart. Smile. Wink. Have a little fun, girlie.”
Does she not know to whom she speaks?
“I’ve been talking to his buddy a bunch lately. He’s a real nice guy, and he speaks highly of Knox.”
I whip around. “You know his name?”
“Sure. Like I said, Cliff thinks a lot of him, and Cliff is a real decent man himself.”
My gaze freezes as my brain processes the morsel Marlene just dropped. I had not realized the wind was blowingthatdirection. Sure, Marlene is an incessant flirt, but there is a unique texture to her voice this time. Cliff, huh?
She smirks. “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”
Not thehimshe references, yet chance and fate are ganging up on me, clamoring until I’ve no choice but to acquiesce to both. “Fine. I’ll wait on Knox. Go keep Teddy from destroying your carpet.”
She giggles like a teen as she reaches under her hair and unties the apron. Dancing Santa earrings skim her shoulders. “You poor, poor baby.”
I shush her, release my ponytail, and finger-comb my hair into a messy bun instead.
One of Knox’s indented grins springs from hiding when he sees me on approach. He lays down the menu and watches. As in,watches.Only, not in a creepy way, and it baffles me how he pulls that off. He’s looking at me like I’m a toasty fire and he just came in from the cold at the end of a long day.
I’m not even to the table yet and my heart is tripping all over itself. “Good evening.”
“Good evening to you.” The dimple twitches out of control.
