We dug into the picnic lunch, eating without fussing over it.
We tore the bread and layered cheese, tomatoes, and basil inside it. The goat cheese was creamy and sharp. Kat had gotten better over the years.
In between bites, I grinned at him. “I’m surprised I never got fired.”
“Me too.”
Then we both laughed.
I used to slide across from him in his booth and chat for twenty minutes every day, insisting I take my lunch break whenever he showed up.
Somehow my boss had always overlooked it despite the place being jam-packed and the other servers making a fuss about me slacking with Zane.
“So,” Zane asked. “What actually happened? Why are you back here applying for cashier jobs at the bookstore?” He paused. “You don’t even like to read.”
I laughed out loud at that, a real laugh, surprised out of me. “You remember that?”
“I remember a lot about you.” He said it simply, without decoration, and the directness of it made my breath catch. “Wetalked almost every day for three years. It was a shock to my system when you left.” His brown eyes rested on mine, soft and steady and warm. “The Hungry Rooster was never the same.”
I held his gaze for a moment and felt the weight of all those years sitting quietly between us.
“Is that why you quit going there?”
He shrugged. “Your conversationsdidkeep me coming back.”
All these years, I’d thought he was there for the food. My heart warmed at the idea that he might have been coming in to see me.
“My boss always thought we’d get married,” I confessed.
“My parents did, too,” he countered, rocking me to my core.
“Oh.” Our eyes locked together, a fire burning hot between us.
And it was in that moment that I felt like I could trust him with the story of my trainwreck life.
“I only applied at Bookish to keep myself from going completely insane,” I admitted. “I came back to Red Oak Mountain to lick my wounds. Right now I’m scattershot applying for jobs online.”
“There can’t be that many fancy marketing jobs around here.”
Reluctantly, I admitted, “There aren’t. I’m applying all over the country.” The words felt honest and a little bleak as I said them out loud.
His eyes dimmed briefly as he reached for another slice of bread.
“You’ll get whatever you want,” he said, and there was a cheerfulness in his tone that didn’t quite fit the quiet man I knew. “Just be patient.”
I tilted my head. “How do you know that? Maybe I suck. Maybe that’s why I got a pink slip.” It probably wasn’t true. They’d let a lot of people go at the same time.
He bit into his second sandwich. When he was done chewing he told me, “I’ve followed your website over the years.” A pause. “The testimonials are impressive.”
“Have you been tracking me?”
He gave me a shy smile. “Naw. Not in a crazy, stalker way. I just… wanted to see that you were doing all right.”
The thought of him doing that tugged at my heart.
“Zane,” I said softly. “That’s sweet.”
“Eh,” he growled. “I’m not really asweetkind of man.”
