“That was random. Why do you suddenly want to go on a trip?”
Hector shrugged nonchalantly. “We could go visit Rhett. I’ve never seen a circus before. We can ask Becca if she can cat-sit Shadow.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “We’re not running away, Hector.”
“We can just get out of town until this blows over. The stalker will probably go into hiding tonight since we’re on the lookout for him. We can slip away and return once things settle down. We’ll think of it as a mini vacation.”
“No. Your diner?—”
“It doesn’t matter, love.”
“It does to me!” I yelled. I didn’t know where the energy came from, considering I’d felt so drained moments ago. But this was my biggest fear. The entire reason I’d wanted to solve this problem by myself in the first place.
My hands were fisted at my sides. Hector gently placed his over mine. “You’re not a burden.” I peered athim past my frustration. “You’re not a burden,” he repeated, and it allowed me to finally take in a full breath of air.
“I believe you,” I told him. “I do. I just…I don’t want you having to make sacrifices for me.” He opened his mouth, but I held up a hand before he could speak. “Even if you’re willing to, I don’t want to be the reason that youhaveto.”
“Okay,” was all he said. He leaned in and pressed our foreheads together in a tender moment. “But anything I do for you isn’t a sacrifice, love. If it’ll keep you safe and happy, then it’s a pleasure.”
I huffed out a laugh. “You’re too good for me.”
He pulled back and gave me an incredulous look. “You’re the one who’s too good for me.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him back. My finger swiped over his scar before threading through his short hair. “Two negatives make a positive. I guess that just means we’re perfect for each other.”
Hector’s laugh was a sound that sang to my soul. It wrapped around me, reaffirming that I was safe here. Everything would be all right. It had to be.
Chapter Seventeen
HECTOR
Atlas rejected my idea of closing the diner for the day, using the reasoning that Sundays were our busiest day. Clay had come over early in the morning to ask Atlas some questions, and I thought he might want to take the rest of the day to recuperate after that, but he looked about ready to open the diner without me if I kept delaying.
I practically had to sprint down the stairs to chase after him. He started the morning prep for the dining area, and while my protective instincts were telling me I needed to keep my eyes on Atlas, he was having none of it. He shooed me into the kitchen to start my prep before the brunch rush came.
I moved through the process with practiced ease. I’d always found cooking enjoyable. What had started out as a necessity for survival turned into something I truly enjoyed.
The first thing I’d wanted to do after being released from prison was cook. My parents had moved out of town sometime while I was incarcerated, not having bothered to visit me once during my time behind bars, but I hadn’t expected much from them. They’d at least left the trailer we lived in behind, so I had a place to return to.
And once I’d cleaned up the stink of weed and cigarettes as best as I could, I’d spent the rest of the day cooking. There hadn’t been any dish I’d wanted to eat or even make, but it was the process that called to me. The idea that I could use these hands of mine to create something positive.
It was the reason why I thought of opening The Diner in the first place. That and the fact that the only place you could really sit down for a meal back then was the local bar, but even then, they never really specialized in food.
The bar had eventually closed, which made The Diner one of the oldest eateries in town. It was something I was proud of. At one point, I hadn’t known if The Diner could even survive after the funds I’d been bribed with ran out, but somehow it all worked out. Business had picked up, and now we had a full house more days than not.
Prep was a breeze since I could do it on autopilot after all these years. I just had to increase the portion size now to accommodate the increased customer base.
Cooking during the brunch rush, though? That wasanother story. Orders were taking longer due to the sheer number of them. Thankfully, our customers were patient and understanding most of the time, and they were willing to wait longer when served a free slice of pie. Atlas was also a huge help and would come to assist when he could. But that wasn’t fair to him, having to do two jobs at once.
I knew things couldn’t go on like this forever. Atlas had been pushing me to find another helper in the kitchen for a while. He was right, of course, but wanting to hire someone was easier said than done.
It seemed the townsfolk were more receptive to me now, but did they take to me kindly enough to want to work for me? That I wasn’t so sure about.
Those were all thoughts I could sort through later. Even if managing the kitchen mostly alone during the busy times was wearing me down, I had things to focus on other than bringing a stranger in here. Especially when someone out there had his eyes on Atlas. What if the person we hired was working for this stalker?
These were thoughts I’d never tell Atlas. He’d only blame himself, and that was the last thing I wanted. He kept thinking of himself as a burden, but I didn’t think he understood that Ilikedtaking care of him. I liked having him rely on me. I would just have to keep proving my willingness to do things for him until he could accept it guilt-free.
The front door opened, and I immediately zoned inon the sound, only calming when I saw it was Becca. She immediately pulled Atlas into a bear hug, which I took to mean she’d heard about what happened yesterday.
