Liam’s gaze softens as it zeroes in on me, but something else lies in the evergreen depths. Something that looks an awful lot like resolve. “What do you need protecting from, Lucky?”
You.
I said too much.
And he sees too much.
This is why I shouldn’t have stayed. This is why Liam McBride and McBride Mountain are dangerous, maybe even more so than the reason I’m in this town in the first place.
I plaster on a smile I’ve perfected over the years—one that has convinced countless foster parents, social workers, police officers, and anyone else I needed it to that everything was fine. “Nothing. Everything’s great. Do you want anything while you wait?”
He eyes me speculatively, as if he can see through my fake response as easily as a fish moves through clear water. But he eventually shakes his head. “I’m good waiting. It’s almost closing time, anyway.”
The breath of relief I release at the end to his questioning rushes out of me before I can pull it back. “Yeah, okay.”
“Do you…have somewhere to stay tonight?”
He looks as uncomfortable asking the question as I am hearing it, and I shift on my feet, glancing around the diner at anything but him.
“Uh, yeah, actually.” I force myself to meet his gaze again. “Elaine says that she has an empty apartment above her garage.”
Liam’s eyebrows rise. “She’s going to let you stay there?”
I nod, chewing on my bottom lip, an old habit I haven’t been able to break no matter how hard I try. “Yeah, just until I move on. You know, it’s only a handful of blocks away so I can walk there and back.” I shrug. “It’s convenient, and she isn’t going to charge me.”
He glances down at Gizmo, continuing to smooth his hand over his short fur. “I’m glad you’re going to be staying long enough to need somewhere to stay.”
Warmth floods my chest with his words, and I have to clear my throat to remove the emotion suddenly lodged there.
But I can’t bring myself to respond, even when Liam finally looks up at me again and I see the heat in his gaze and how genuine his words were. Before I can say or do something stupid, like actually consider staying longer, the bells above the door ring, reminding me of my reality.
I spin toward it, and my breath catches at the familiar star on the uniform of the man who walks in, chatting with someone on his cell phone. He waves at Elaine behind the counter, his attention focused that direction rather than our corner of the diner.
Swallowing thickly, forcing myself to breathe, I casually make my way back to the kitchen, hoping he doesn’t get a good look at me.
4
ONE WEEK LATER
LUCKY
She lied.
Staring at the shattered dishes and food splattered on the diner tile floor, those words keep repeating in my head.
She lied. She lied. She lied.
Elaine lied when she said it would get easier over the last week. Whether it was intentional or simply her nature to keep reassuring me and saying those words, they definitely weren’t true. And that sweet woman’s insistence that I’m getting better and she couldn’t possibly do it without me—along with the really good tips I keep getting despite my ineptitude—is the main reason I stayed longer in McBride Mountain than I had originally intended.
Far longer.
But the extra time in the diner hasn’t done anything to improve my skills.
I still keep fucking everything up—getting orders wrong, dropping trays, spilling on customers.
For the life of me, I don’t know why the old woman keeps me around anymore. She must be a glutton for punishment.
And so am I, apparently.
