“Sugar, I know.”Obligingly, I take a small sip. With a smile, I add, “If your mom says it helps, after all.”
He smiles back at me. “I always told her hot dogs worked just as well. Or McDonald’s. But she never went for it.”
“I suppose those aren’t very healthy.”
“And carrot cake is?” He chuckles. “Even if itdoeshave a vegetable as an ingredient.” But instead of mocking the cake, he spears a bite with his fork and pops it into his mouth. After a few chews and a swallow, he says, “That’s actually really good. I like the combination of the cake and frosting. It’s different.”
“It’s cream cheese frosting. Plus, there are a bunch of spices in it, like cinnamon and nutmeg. My dad and I would have it for dessert around Christmas, so whenever I have it, it reminds me of him.”
Webb sets his fork down. Sympathy darkens his gaze. “He’s not around anymore?”
My throat goes thick. “No. He died seven years ago. Cancer. He didn’t even know he was sick until it had spread too much to treat.”
“Noelle.” His voice gentles. Then he covers my hand with his. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I’m a little startled at myself for telling him. “It’s been seven years, so I’ve had time…”
“It’s not fine. And it doesn’t matter how long it’s been.” That vulnerable expression comes back into his eyes. “My dad died when I was twenty-five. So it’s been fourteen years now. And it still hurts. Sometimes just as much as it did back then.”
“Webb.” Something new plucks at me. Not attraction—because Iamattracted to Webb, despite my own insistence that it’s the wrong time—or interest, but something deeper. Something I’ve never felt for a man before.
“That’s why I came into Doug’s Diner the first time,” he explains. “I was headed back from the airport after getting in some flight time. I like to go a couple of times a month to keep my skills at least somewhat fresh. And instead of hitting the McDonald’s in Newberg for breakfast, I decided to come into Williston instead. Just to see what was here.”
“And?”
“I saw the awning for the diner. And it reminded me of the place I used to go with my dad. He loved diner breakfasts. He said they were better than any fancy restaurant’s. So I stopped in. Then I sat in your section, and…”
Trailing off, he gives a little shrug. “I guess I like diner breakfasts the best, too.”
The heat from his hand seeps into mine, chasing away the clinging chill I haven’t been able to get rid of for weeks. Though I think I already know the answer, I ask anyway. “But if you’re not going to the airport every day, why have you come into the diner so often? Especially when you don’t even live in Williston?”
Webb hesitates. “Where I live—and work—is about ten miles from here. So technically, this is the closest town.”
“Oh.”
I shouldn’t be disappointed. It doesn’t matter why he comes to the diner, after all. And I’m not looking to complicate my life any more than it is already.
“But.” Webb nudges my latte towards me, waiting until I’ve taken another sip before continuing, “I found something at the diner I like even more than food. So I guess that’s why I keep coming.”
My heart jumps.
“Noelle.”
“Yes?”
“I was thinking, would you like to go out sometime? Since you’re new to the area, we could visit someplace you haven’t been before. Like Mount Hood, that’s a must if you live near Portland.”
“I was living in Portland,” I blurt, revealing another part of myself I hadn’t intended. “Before I moved here.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize. I just assumed you’d moved from further away. But if you’ve seen Mount Hood?—”
“I haven’t. I mean, I have from afar. But in the five years I lived in Portland, I was always too busy to actually go there. Which sounds kind of sad when I think about it. But work always took priority.”
And look where that left me. Job-less, home-less, friend-less…
No,I remind myself.That’s not true.Even if my life took a drastic detour, I do have a job, albeit not the one I worked years to get. I have a place to live. I have Jaz, even if she’s across the country.
Then there’s Webb, sitting across from me with that hopeful look again.
