The bell over the door chimes just as Jace Whitlock strides in.
Speak of the devil…
Mandy’s face turns crimson beside me, her back straightening as he walks up to the counter, blue eyes fixed on nothing in particular. She can’t help staring at the way his black T-shirt clings to all that muscle and the way a simple pair of jeans somehow looks unfairly good on him. Her gaze drifts over his bare arms, over the veins and the terrifying tattoos of skulls, gravestones, and snakes that wrap from the tops of his hands up his arms before disappearing beneath the sleeves of his shirt.
“My God, he’s so hot…” she whispers to me, and I bite the inside of my lip to keep from laughing.
He heads straight toward us, and the girl two seats down doesn’t even try to hide the way she stares.
One thing’s for sure: the Whitlocks were blessed with the good-looking gene. I heard their mother was some kind of beauty queen back in Texas.
“I’ve got this,” Mandy says brightly, putting on all the charm as soon as he comes near. “Hi, Jace. How are you today? What can I get you?”
He doesn’t smile. I don’t think he knows how. Maybe he broke that muscle falling off a horse or something. I’m sure that’s a thing…
“Mandy.” He tips his head. “Coffee. Black.” His fingers drag over the scruff of his goatee. “Please.”
“Coming right up,” she says, already pouring, like her body can’t sit still when he’s this close.
I think the whole diner is attracted to him. The other waitresses have conveniently found reasons to pause and gawk a little too long or whisper to each other. Jace doesn’t notice, or he does and doesn’t care. He has bigger things to worry about, like his sweet baby girl, Rue.
He doesn’t bring his six-year-old daughter around much. She’s usually back home, but every once in a while, she’s with him, especially when he’s staying in New Jersey for a stretch.
It’s a tragedy what happened to his wife all those years ago. She got hit by a car on her way to pick up diapers when Rue was barely more than a baby, and I swear it has to eat at him. Last I heard, they only got married because she got pregnant, but still. Maybe that’s why he’s the way he is. Or maybe that’s just his peachy personality.
With her back to him, Mandy sneaks a glance at me and makes this dramatic face like she’s about to faint. I have to look away before I actually laugh out loud.
Then she turns back to Jace and slides a to-go cup across the counter, and when he hands her cash, she clears her throat like she’s been waiting for this exact moment.
“So, Jace. You guys still looking for help on Fridays?”
“Yep. Why?” That Texas drawl sneaks out around the edges.
“So, funny thing.” She tilts her head toward me. “My friend Sloane here is looking for a job.”
My head snaps toward her, eyes going wide, but Mandy keeps going.
“She’s great with people. They just promoted her to manager.”
Jace’s gaze lowers to me then, assessing me like I’m some prized cattle at an auction or something. The silence hangs there long enough for my pulse to start thudding in my ears.
“We’ve got a spot,” he finally says. “Can you come by on Sunday?”
“I can come early or late morning before my shift, if that’s okay.”
“That’s fine. I’ll let my sister, Greer, know to expect you. She handles applications.”
Oh, great. Greer…
I force a smile, then shoot Mandy an I’m-going-to-kill-you look, but she ignores it, way too pleased with herself.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
He nods once and lifts his coffee, then turns slightly as his phone chimes. He sets the cup back down to type, completely unbothered by the way half the diner is watching him.
Mandy leans in, whispering, “See? I told you he loves me.”
Love. She’s delusional, but in the cutest way. The only thing Jace Whitlock loves is his daughter, and everyone knows it.
