Shrugging like he’s trying to be humble, he says, “Well, if you’re willing to give me advice, I’m all ears. What would you do if you were me?”
“That’s a great question.” I narrow my eyes before I decide even that hurts too much. What I wouldn’t do for a pair of sunglasses right now. I just didn’t think the pain would be this strong. I should have stayed home, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Ruth, thus, here I am. Taking a deep breath, I give Noah the best advice I ever got from a coach. “So, a guy in your position needs to pass more than shoot. At least for right now. You are fast and get out in front of the team. Passing will get the guys to trust you, and you can work on your shots in the meantime. You will get there.”
He blinks twice and slowly nods. “That makes a lot of sense.”
Trying to fight the magnetism that keeps me looking for Ruth, it’s no use. This time when I find her, she’s returning from abooth of customers, and she’s staring right at me, and my breath hitches in my throat.
The look she’s giving me confirms I’ve found her love language.
Bingo.
sixteen
Ruth
I slide two mismatched plates onto the counter, a red plate for Noah, and a blue plate for Bill. "Here you go,” I aim for casualness and pray they don’t see my hands shaking. "Enjoy."
Bill reaches for his silverware and looks directly at me. “Looks amazing."
My heart flutters as I get the double meaning. "Flattery gets you decaf," I reply flatly, and Bill snickers low in his throat. That smile. I hate how much I like that smirk.
Standing back against the counter, I wait for him to take his first bite. Instead of eating, he glances at Noah as he cuts his first pancake. “Did you notice all the road construction on Main Street? Seriously, what are they thinking about, doing that this time of year? It’s going to be buried in snow soon.”
Noah throws his head back and grumbles with annoyance. “They always do that. All summer long we’re forced to deal with potholes. Then right when the snow flies, boom, they make an even bigger mess.”
“It’s unreal.” Bill plops a bite into his mouth. “I used to attend all the city hall meetings, trying to talk some sense into the clowns. They won’t take anyone’s opinion. That’s one of the reasons why I built our arena out of town. I can’t handle the city’s lack of leadership. If I had it my way, I’d be on an island.”
I move to refill a coffee mug across the diner, pretending I’m not listening. But I’m listening. Oh so intensely while my heart thrums hard.
Noah goes on, “It seems like every other year Mom is fighting with it here too, and it’s months of low business, because no one can get in the parking lot.”
“You’re right,” Bill says simply. “They usually rip up this road. Sometimes it doesn’t even need it. I think the city has contracts with their friends and get kickbacks. It’s a yearly paycheck for them, living off the taxpayers, while wreaking havoc on the traffic.”
Moving to a table in the back, I busy myself cleaning finger smears off the window, but thank goodness their voices carry. They’ve returned to a conversation about hockey, which soundsso natural it tugs at my lower gut. I head into the kitchen, fill a few more orders, and circle around to the front again.
"Wait, you actually like that band?" Noah’s voice cuts in through chuckles.
"I know they’re old," Bill replies. "But that’s what was playing on the speaker when I was in the NHL, and I’m transported back instantly to my best days."
I catch myself smiling as I wipe down the back counter, even though I’ve wiped it at least ten times.
It’s like watching two parts of my life collide in slow motion.
One I never expected to matter.
One I’ve protected with my whole heart.
They found a way to click together, and it terrifies me.
Since my late husband passed, I’ve never dated, and even if I were to date, I knew I’d always be the mom who would never let a guy get close to my kid. That’s not the mom I am.
This is exactly the kind of moment I don’t trust.
Bill’s phone rings, and he excuses himself from talking to Noah as I head toward the register to ring up a regular’s tab. From here, it’s easier to hear exactly what Bill is saying, "Yeah, I know. I’m not in the office now. Can we hold off on the call for another hour? I’m having lunch with a friend."
I freeze with my fingers poised over the register keys.
Did he just call Noah a friend?
