He clips a leash to her collar and scratches behind her ears, and there’s something about watching a man be gentle with an animal that does things to me. Sue me.
“Maren, I’m heading out,” he calls down the bar.
She looks up from pouring someone’s beer. “Bye! Tell Chloe I said hi. And give that sweet girl extra love from me tonight.”
“Will do.” He gives her a wave, then glances back at me one more time. His eyes find mine across the bar and hold. Just for a second. “Have a good night, Emma.”
“You too, Theo,” I manage, and I like the way his name feels in my mouth. Like something I want to say again. Preferably while he’s doing things that would make me forget my own.
He heads for the door with Laila trotting happily beside him, and I watch until it closes behind them. Watch the space where he was for another few seconds after that, like an idiot.
Then I turn back to my wine and take a long drink.
I replay the conversation in my head. The way he looked at me when I said “only about things that matter.” The way his eyes dropped to my mouth for just a second before he caught himself. The way he said my name.
He’s into me. I’d bet my entire first-year teacher salary on it, and that’s not nothing, even if it is depressingly small. He’s just too cautious to do anything about it. The age gap. The teacher thing. The landlord situation. All perfectly reasonable concerns that I fully intend to help him get over.
If I want this to go anywhere, I have to make the first move. I have to be the one who pushes past all those walls he’s built up. And that’s fine. I didn’t get where I am by waiting around for things to happen to me. When I want something, I go after it.
I want Theo Midnight. And I’m starting to think he wants me, too.
CHAPTER 7
Theo
“Dad, I’mboooooorrrrrred.”
Chloe’s voice carries from the dining room into my office at Harbor & Ash, and she drags out the word like she’s physically dying from understimulation.
I glance through the doorway. She’s sprawled across the booth closest to my office like she’s melting into the vinyl, surrounded by abandoned coloring books and what looks like an entire box of sugar packets she’s been using to build and destroy tiny towers. One arm hangs dramatically over the edge of the seat, fingers trailing on the floor.
“Twenty more minutes,” I call back, guilt twisting in my gut as I turn back to the supplier invoice on my screen. Pacific Northwest Provisions delivered yesterday and somehow charged us for three cases of heirloom tomatoes we didn’t order. I need to sort it out before Monday or we’ll be paying for produce we never received.
“Daaaaaaaaaaad.” She stretches the word into about fourteen syllables. “That’s what you said twenty minutes ago.”
She’s not wrong. I promised her we’d have a fun day doingwhatever she wanted once I finished work, but we’ve been here for three hours and she’s going stir crazy. Chloe has countless wonderful qualities, but sitting still has never been one of them.
“I’m sorry, kiddo. Just a few more things to wrap up,” I call back, hating myself a little.
She sighs, loud and theatrical enough to be heard across the restaurant. “Fine. I’m going to go get some dessert then.” A pause. “Please.”
I smile at the add-on. “Okay. Alex left some chocolate mousse in the walk-in.”
She hops off the booth and heads past my office toward the kitchen, already on the hunt for sweets. Normally I’d have her with family or my sitter while I work, but Calvin mentioned he was taking Maren on a date to another town today, and my sitter wasn’t available on short notice after Victoria canceled.
I put all my work off so I could get it done today while Chloe was supposed to be with her mom, and now I’m scrambling to catch up. I shove down the familiar irritation that bubbles up whenever I think about Victoria, along with the guilt for making Chloe sit around bored on a beautiful Saturday.
A nagging thought returns: I should have gone to the festival with Emma. She invited me the other day at The Black Lantern, and I never texted or called her like I said I would. Not because I forgot. Because she feels like a risk, and I’m doing my best to retain some semblance of control over my life.
The irony doesn’t escape me. Half the reason I’m keeping Emma at arm’s length is to protect Chloe from getting attached to someone who might not stick around. And now my attempt at being responsible has resulted in Chloe spending her Saturday dying of boredom in an empty restaurant instead of having fun at a fall festival with a teacher she adores..
Great parenting, Theo.
A knock at the front door pulls me out of my head. We’re not open for hours, and I’m not expecting anyone. Through the glass I can see red hair catching the morning light, a rust-colored sweater, and whatever I was thinking about two seconds ago is completely gone.
Emma.
She’s holding two cups of coffee and grinning at me through the window like she knows exactly what she’s about to do. I push back from my desk and walk through the dining room, past the empty tables set for tonight’s service, and unlock the door.
