His clear blue eyes meet mine, a shock of hair falling over his forehead and giving him more boyish charm than he has any right to, given the fact that he’s a grown man, a professional hockey player, and apparently auditioning to be my sugar daddy but without the usual side benefits that go along with that. I think. “I told you not to worry about the car.” To Earl, he repeats. “I’ll be handling the bill. Give me a call when you have the estimate.”
Brows still crunched, I turn to Earl. “I’d like to know the damage, too, please.” He hands me a pen and sets the form in front of me, and I write my number on it. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he says. “I have a few people in line ahead of you, so it probably won’t be until afternoon that I have time to give it a thorough going over. But I’ll be in touch.” He looks between us. “With both of you.”
We take our cue and head back out the door, Jason holding it open for me. “Have you had breakfast?” he asks.
I shrug because no, but also I don’t usually eat much for breakfast anyway.
He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “What am I gonna do with you?” he asks. I don’t answer because it’s clearly arhetorical question. “Is it the money?” he clarifies, falling in step beside me as we walk across the parking lot to his car. “Or are you just one of those coffee-for-breakfast types?”
I squint at him, considering, then hold up a hand, palm up. “A little of column A, and a little of column B?”
Grinning, he shakes his head at me, pulling open the passenger side door for me when we get to his car. “Well, this is my treat. So we can just go somewhere for coffee and a pastry—well, for you, at least. I need more than that—or we can find a good diner for breakfast.”
“Oohhh, a diner breakfast sounds delicious. I haven’t had one of those in forever. Remember Sandy’s in Poynette? She made thebestFrench toast.”
“Is it still open?” he asks, pausing in the act of closing my door. “I don’t mind driving out there if you don’t.”
My eyebrows jump. “Are you serious? It’s like an hour and a half from here.”
He shrugs. “We can hit a coffee place now, get some caffeine and a snack if you need one. I told you, I don’t have any plans today other than to drive you around. After breakfast, we can visit all our old haunts.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “I’m not sure you and I have any old haunts together.”
“Well,myold haunts, then. We can visit yours too, if you want. And that’s how it’sourold haunts.” He says the last with a little flourish, then shuts my door, jogging around the car to climb in on the driver’s side. “What do you say?”
I screw up my face like this suggestion requires a lot of thought. To be honest, I’m not sure I really want to revisit all the places I hung out as a kid. The happy memories are layered over with sadness because of Hunter, and the ones after he died are just sad.
But it might be worth it for Sandy’s French toast …
“Deal. Let’s get coffee, then Sandy’s, and then?” I toss my hands in the air. “We’ll see where the day takes us.”
“That’s the spirit!” he quips, and suddenly this day is turning out way different than I’d expected, even after last night.
What other wrench is Jason going to throw into the works that make up my life?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jason
I knewshe was skipping meals. I just knew it. Being right usually fills me with a sense of elation similar to winning, but this time, it’s a hollow victory.
At least she’s going to let me feed her. And this time she didn’t even protest, so progress. I wasn’t quite sure how she’d handle the scene at the garage, but when I said I’d be paying, the only objection she registered was to being left out of the conversation, which seems reasonable to me. Even if someone else was footing the bill for me, I’d want to know the details too.
Still, though, I know that means I’m not entirely out of the woods with that situation. If the total comes to several thousand dollars—as I fully expect it to—she might protest more about letting me pay that. Or about not paying me back.
What am I going to do if she insists, though?
I set that aside to deal with if it comes up. No need to stress about things that aren’t even happening yet. Sure, I like to have plans for the different possibilities, but there are really only a couple of options there—I firmly refuse her money, or I let herpay me back on an extremely extended schedule that she can afford. Then maybe for her birthday or Christmas, I can forgive the balance.
“When was the last time you were back in Poynette?” Hailey asks. “I mean, I’m sure you come back to the Madison area regularly enough to visit your parents, but when did they move away from Poynette?”
“Oh, well …” I scratch the bridge of my nose. “I guess it’s been around seven years now? So that’s probably the last time I was back there.” I glance at her, feeling guilty. “I tried to come back in time for your graduation, but I couldn’t make it work.”
She waves a hand, dismissing that. “It’s fine. You know how things are in Poynette. You didn’t miss much.”
“I wanted to be there, though. For you.” For Hunter, too. He would’ve done his damnedest to be back in town for his baby sister’s high school graduation.
