“I can bake.”
“Annabelle told me you burn things,” Buster said.
She rolled her eyes, even though Buster couldn’t see her. “One thing, when we were in high school. I burnt the popcorn and she had to take the blame as we were in her house and her uncle wasn’t too happy with the smell.”
“That’s not how I heard it.” Buster appeared behind the counter. Those beautiful eyes narrowed. The man had the longest lashes she’d ever seen; women would pay good money for those.
“I can cook, I tell you, and one day I’m proving it.” Branna gave him a glare.
Branna had always felt comfortable around Buster, and that hadn’t changed. She came in here to sit in silence and read. If he chose to talk, they did; if not, he grunted hello and good-bye, and that was where it ended.
“You better have those pies cooked, Griffin!”
She hadn’t seen him since the day he stormed out of her house, and now there he was, standing just inside the door with the sun surrounding him. The table she sat at wasn’t tucked completely out the way of the door, so she had a partial view of Jake McBride, big and beautiful, eyes narrowed, and looking downright unsociable as he entered.
“You’re early. I just pulled them from the oven.” Buster disappeared back into the kitchen as he spoke.
“Had some stuff to do in town and my stomach is gnawing on itself, so feed me.” He saw her then, and she was certain he would have walked back out if the pie wasn’t important to him. He gave her a nod, but didn’t add any words.
Another scruffy T-shirt stretched across his shoulders, this one bearing some army slogan, and he’d pulled on cargo shorts that had seen better days. On his feet, he wore worn-out trainers. The silence between them stretched uncomfortably, but as neither of them were inclined to speak, they both let it settle into a heavy thickness.
“Jake, this is Branna.” Jake snorted at his friend’s sarcasm as Buster appeared with a tray of sandwiches. “You want coffee? I’m making Branna another one.”
“Ah, sure.” He shot her a look. “How’s the head?” The words were thrown at her in a dismissive way, as if to say, I don’t give a shit, but anyway…
“Good, thank you.” Branna then reeled off the high school pledge and named three of her teachers, remembering how he’d asked her those questions two weeks ago and she’d been unable to answer them.
“Nice.” He looked at the chair across the table from hers, then pulled it out and folded his large body into it. “What about the wrist?”
“Your mom said I had to wear the brace for a while yet because of the damage I’ve done to some things inside.”
“Tendons and ligaments,” he said.
Buster dropped a plate loaded with food in front of Jake and a mug of steaming black coffee before each of them.
“He won’t tell me what’s in the mystery muffin,” Branna said, filling the silence, because now that Jake was close and looking at her with those intent black eyes, she felt uncomfortable. In fact, she wanted to squirm in her seat.
She’d been like this in school when he was near; her face used to flush and she’d feel off balance. Branna hadn’t wanted to be infatuated by Jake McBride. In fact, she’d done everything she could not to be, but nothing had helped. So, she’d tried to avoid him or have a really bad attitude whenever he approached her.
There was no doubting that he’d been hot in school. There’d been other equally handsome boys too, but it was Jake who had got to her, Jake who she’d secretly lusted after with the ferocious heart of a teenager.
“Mystery is the keyword there, Branna.”
“Buster said that.”
“Well then, he’s probably right.”
She watched as he ate half the pie in one bite. His teeth were large and white, and Branna had the disturbing vision of them nibbling on her ear.
“I’m sorry!” She hadn’t meant to say it so loudly, but she knew she needed to apologize, and now was as good a time as any.
His dark brows rose at her words. “About what?”
“For the way I treated your mother and Belle and the way I treated you when I should have been thanking you for looking after me and instead was being awkward and ungrateful.”
His smile wasn’t the ‘light up your face’ kind that it used to be, but she saw a glimpse of the boy she once knew.
“I do awkward and ungrateful. My best friend’s the master at it, and as it turns out, I’ve perfected it myself over the last few years,” Jake said.
