I tilted my head to the side. She wore a long-sleeved white blouse tucked into a tight, knee-length gray skirt. Her black heels brought her close to my eye level. “And you look like you bust balls for a living.”
The third woman in the group laughed. “Clearly he knows you.”
Deandra gestured to her. “This is my friend, Kennedy. Kennedy, Nathan.” She didn’t explain how we knew each other. I wondered how much she’d already shared about our past.
“Good to meet you.” I extended a hand to Kennedy. “How do y’all know each other?”
Deandra stared pointedly at Kennedy, as if she were communicating a message. “We used to work together for the Wolves.”
“So…” I said to Gemma, elbowing the air toward Kennedy. “She’s the best friend whose dad owns the team?”
Gemma grinned. “I told you I could get you tickets for a game any time you want. Just don’t tell Bertram, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Bertram already has season tickets,” Kennedy said. “Right behind mine.”
“Oh, he doesn’t want tickets,” Gemma replied with a sigh. “He wants to hang out with our men. Why do you think he and his gaggle of gamblers are here? It’s been this way ever since he ran into Matt at the bakery. Bertram interrogated him. It took over an hour to pry him away.”
Bertram and his friends were too busy arguing about their poker game to notice who walked into the café or to overhear the smack talk Gemma laid down. I didn’t expect it to last, though.
“I thought you were on maternity leave. How’s the baby?”
Deandra threw an arm around Gemma’s shoulders and bumped their hips together. “This one can’t stay away from her business, even though she can check in by camera at any time.”
Gemma held up a finger. “Not true. I’m very happy at home with my little girl. Thanks for asking, Nathan. Matt needs some time alone with her too. And I miss getting dressed.”
“And youlovemeddling,” Kennedy added, to which Gemmatsked.
“Anyway, we’re here to grab lunch,” Deandra answered in earnest.
I gestured to a table on the opposite side of the café from Bertram and his band of happy gamblers. “You’re in luck. We now serve breakfast.”
Gemma laughed. “So it’s still coming along?”
“We’re working on it. Should have a lunch menu up and running next week.”
“I’m surprised you kept Allison.” Gemma raised an eyebrow.
I let out a deep sigh. “It wasn’t entirely by choice, I’ll say that, but I’ve enjoyed watching our regulars get under her skin.”
We looked at Allison behind the counter, scowling at Bertram and his crew. They hadn’t ordered anything in over an hour and took up the table in the window. Two strikes. Nothing she could do about it, though, since I made it clear they were welcome.
“So that’s still going on, huh?” Deandra drawled. I followed her gaze to where Brenna stood watching us before she abruptly turned her attention to something on the tablet we used for checkout. She tucked her hair behind one ear, a classic self-conscious tell of hers.
“Don’t,” I warned. “She’s engaged.” Orwasengaged? I had no fucking idea.
“Does she know it’s not to you?”
“Nothing is happening between us.” I gritted my teeth.
I wanted something to happen between us. Denying it hadn’t made the feelings go away. And with that ring of hers no longer on display, it was hard to fight my thoughts about whether I could make the possibility real.
But then I remembered the agony of losing her, and it stopped me from doing anything rash. I didn’t know if I could handle it again.
Deandra laughed, her dark pin-straight hair swaying as she nodded at Kennedy. “That’s what this one used to say, and now she’s at every game, wearing the guy’s jersey.”
“I’m going to love it when someone knocks you on your ass,” Kennedy tossed back at her.
“Not likely, Kens.” Deandra dropped her voice low. “Let’s test your theory, Nathan.”
