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I had been working at Paul's Diner for a total of six hours, and after surviving the supper rush, I had more cash in my pocket than I’d had since graduating college three months ago.
Things had died down after nine, thank the lord. My feet were screaming. The only folks left in the place was the owner and cook, Paul, a couple of kids who apparently just got out of seeing whatever the latest mind-numbing comic book movie was, and the solitary stranger huddled in the corner.
He'd caught my eye when he'd come in. Had that good ol' boy look about him that meant he was either gonna be a dick or a sweetheart. He'd been in that booth for two hours, and I still hadn't pegged which way he was gonna fall. He'd barely spoken, grunting out barely-audible thank you's whenever I brought his waffles and took his dishes away. He'd been fiddling in a small book of some kind, writing or drawing, not sure which. He hadn't even looked up when I spilled his coffee last time I topped it off.
"You did good tonight."
I was so caught up in watching the stranger's eyebrows twitch and furrow as he scribbled that I hadn't noticed Paul's approach. I hoped he didn't see me jump.
"Thanks," I said, busying myself with wiping down and refilling the ketchup bottles on the empty tables. "I waited tables in high school. Kinda like riding a bike, I guess."
"Anybody give you trouble?"
I shook my head, my ponytail waving across my shoulders. "Nah. One lady sent back her bacon because it wasn't crispy enough, but she was nice about it."
"Mrs. Neighbors,” he said with a nod. “She's in every most Tuesdays. We have some regulars, like her and the Lawsons. And Joel." He motioned toward the corner.
"What's that guy's story?"
Paul shrugged. "Contractor. Single dad. Just came in one night. He puts some people off, but always seems nice enough to me.
The man in question closed his book and tucked it into his back pocket when he slid from the booth. He tossed a few bills on the table before he headed to the register. Moved like he hoped nobody would notice him, but his eyes were sharp, like he’d be ready to fight if he had to.
“How was it?” I asked, smiling as I keyed in his ticket.
“Pretty good,” he said.
I waited for the idle chat that always accompanies the wait at the register, but none came. I was surprised to feel disappointed. Now that he’d actually spoken at a level human beings can easily hear, I sorta wanted to hear his voice again. I hit the void button on the register.
“Oh, shoot. I’m sorry. It’s my first day.” I hoped I looked and sounded contrite. I used to pull this sorta thing at the McDonalds back home when I was in high school. That I was using the same lame moves to make a guy talk to me as I did when I was sixteen was not lost on me. It wasn’t a great moment for my ego. “It’ll just take a second. I have to…” I waved his ticket and motioned toward the register, sneaking a look at him from beneath my lashes.
He nodded. Just one bob of his head. Dammit.
Resigning myself to the fact that it just wasn’t in the works for me and him to be cash register besties, I keyed in his order, took his money, and passed him his change. His warm fingers cupped mine as I dropped the coins into his palm.
“Have a good night,” I said.
He pocketed the change. “You too.” His lips flickered with the ghost of a polite smile. “G’night.”
- - -
It took a few weeks, like gaining the trust of a skittish foal, but Joel finally started to relax and respond whenever I’d try to strike up a conversation. He came in the diner at least three times a week. I knew he owned a contracting business but he liked to doodle in his little black notebook when he had some time to himself. I knew his daughter had gymnastics and dinner with friends on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. I knew that a pretty good chunk of his paycheck went to supply his waffle habit.
It was kinda cute, really. A grown man loving waffles that much.
I was coming off a mid-shift one Thursday when he came in, shaking himself free of the raindrops clinging to his too-long hair and rolling down his forearms in compelling little rivulets. I smiled and waved at him, and he gave a nod of greeting in return before retreating to his usual booth.
“You’re here early,” I said, passing him a menu and complementary glass of water.
“Got off early,” he replied. He flipped open the menu, but I started writing down his order before he vocalized it. He noticed.
“What if I wanted somethin’ different?” he asked.
I chuckled. “You strike me as a creature of habit.”
He cocked his head to the side, studying me from beneath a fringe of dark hair. He opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of whatever he was about to say and closed it again. He lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug before passing the menu back to me. “Probably right,” he said with a small smile.
“Three pecan waffles—extra butter,” I assured him, ticking off his usual order. “Three bacon strips, large Coke with no ice, and an eventual coffee, two creams, two sugars.” He nodded. “Anybody ever tell you you eat like a fifteen-year-old kid instead of a grown man?”
A hint of color touched his cheeks. “Anybody ever tell you you look like a fifteen-year-old kid instead of a grown woman?”
I laughed outright this time. “Lots of times.” I held his gaze a long second, felt my own cheeks warming. “I’ll, um, go put your order in. I’ll probably be gone home by the time it’s up though.” I don’t know why I told him that.
“Have a good evenin’.”
“You too.”
I turned in his ticket to Paul, refilled drinks at Table 5, and reached back to untie my apron. I kicked through the swinging door to the kitchen and grabbed my stuff out of my locker before setting in back down so I could clock out. “I’m gone, Paul.”
He waved a spatula at me. “Be careful going home. The weather is crap tonight.”
“Ok. Don’t forget me and June traded shifts for tomorrow so I won’t be in ‘til 10:30.”
“Tell me again why I even bother to make schedules?”
I grinned at him and pulled on my raincoat, taking my car keys from the pocket. “Because it gives us something to mess with. G’night!”
A warm summer rain was still falling gently when I stepped out into the night. As I slid into my hand-me-down Honda Civic and started the trip home, my mind wandered back over the conversation with Joel. He’d been different tonight. Almost…flirty. But not overtly so like most guys who flirted with me. I liked it. I made a mental note to be a little more forthcoming next time and see if I was imagining it.
I’d just passed the city limits sign when my Civic jerked and groaned. I barely made it off the highway before it died with a shudder of finality.
“Shit.”
I stared at the console—all the maintenance lights were on. I tried the key and nothing. Not even a click telling me it was trying to turn over. With a groan of my own, I rested my head on the steering wheel, then reached over to dig my cell phone out of my purse.
“Shit!”
My purse was on the counter under the timeclock. No phone. No money. With a sigh, I hit the emergency flashers and got out, trying to decide whether I wanted to walk the fifteen blocks back to the diner and retrieve my stuff, maybe call for a tow if I could find a place open past seven, or walk the three miles home and call Paul from my sister’s phone. Either way, I was gonna get soaked.
I decided just to go on home and use Maggie’s phone to make my calls. I was tired and I didn’t feel like waiting around all night for the wrecker service to get back to me. I’d have Paul put my stuff up and get Maggie to run me into town first thing in the morning to fetch it.
I’d taken about four steps when the bottom dropped out and rain began falling in sheets. I didn’t even bother to say shit out loud. Just hugged my yellow slicker tighter around me and trudged on. After the fourth big-rig passed and sprayed road scum up my bare legs, I wished I’d decided to take the sidewalks back to the restaurant.
I’d gone a little over a mile, maybe, when I heard a vehicle behind me slowing down. Nervousness pierced my belly as I thought of about a thousand different ways things could go bad. An old classic truck pulled off the shoulder in front of me and I stopped walking, the hand in my jacket pocket tightening on my heavy key ring. If anybody tried anything, the only weapon I had were the keys. I slid them Wolverine-style through my fingers.
“What the hell you thinkin’, girl, walkin’ out here in the dark in the middle of a damn downpour?”
I released my pent-up breath at the sound of Joel’s voice and hurried to the truck. “My car broke down. Can you give me a ride home?”
“Get in,” he said, reaching over to unlock the passenger door. “Thought you college kids were supposed to be smart.”
I sniffed and tried to dry my face, but any skin that stuck out of my jacket was wet and shriveled. “I’ve graduated college,” I said, trying not to get irritated. He reached behind the seat and tossed an old flannel shirt in my direction.
“That’s even worse. That your car back the road a ways?” he asked, and I nodded. “Where’s your cell phone? Nobody ever tell you how dangerous it is to walk the highway at night? Hell, girl, you coulda been hit by a truck or picked up by some pervert serial killer, and nobody’d even know. Where’s your head?”
“You’re startin’ to sound like my daddy,” I muttered, shrugging out of my jacket and slipping into the dry flannel. I wiped my face with the sleeves, then bent to pat at my wet legs. “I forgot my purse at work and I don’t live far. And I wasn’t picked up by some pervert, I was picked up by you. Unless you got some secrets to unload.”
He jerked around to face me, dark eyes narrowed. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothin’. I was just kidding. You know, making light of a potentially scary situation? Fact is, I wasn’t really thinking about danger when I left my car, I was thinking about whether it’d be a bigger inconvenience to me to walk back to work or to go home. Didn’t even think about anything outside of that ‘til I heard you slowing down.”
“Shows how young you are,” he said. He put the truck in gear and pulled back out onto the highway.
“Does my age offend you? You think only people who work in diners should be forty-seven and have a smoker’s cough?”
His thumb tapped the steering wheel and he chewed his cheek. “Doesn’t bother me you’re young unless you’re dumb on top of it.”
My temper spiked. How the hell dare he? “I am not dumb. You don’t know shit, Joel Miller, and certainly not about me.”
“Yeah, well, right back atcha, sweetheart.”
I stared out the window as the landscape passed, humming along with the song on the radio and blatantly ignoring him for the next few minutes.
He sighed. “I don’t know where you live.”
I looked up to get my bearings. “My street’s just the other side of that billboard, on the left. Second house on the right.”
He turned in and put the truck in park. “I can have a tow pick up your car in the morning and take it to the shop for you, if you want.”
“Appreciate it,” I said stiffly. I was still a little pissed at his calling me dumb. I held my rain jacket overhead and slipped out of the truck. “Thanks for the ride.” He nodded and started to back out, and I headed for the porch. With a huff of annoyance, I called back to him and scurried to the driver’s side. He rolled his window down, peering through the rain with a questioning frown.
“You all right?”
“You wanna go out with me Saturday?”
His eyebrows winged up. “What?”
“Out. Dinner. Two people eating food, preferably something that isn’t waffles.”
I didn’t smile. He didn’t smile. Probably the most hostile-looking asking out in the history of dates. But he nodded.
“A’ight.”
“Good. Meet me at the diner around six and we’ll leave from there.” I started walking away, then turned back again. “And call my cell in the morning about the car.”
As I barked out my number, his dark eyes lit with something close to amusement and the corners of his mouth twitched. “You’re a bossy little thing, ain’t you?”
I did smile then. “Only when I need to be.”
- - -
We went out a few times—dinner, a movie, a community baseball game that neither of us cared about. I enjoyed his company even more than I thought I would, and he seemed to enjoy mine. His daughter was a hoot, and it was fun for us to give him fits.
We stood outside the diner after my shift one night, talking about nothing. Sarah was at some camp for the week, so Joel had been coming in to sit while I closed up. His brother teased him mercilessly about it when he’d drop him off, but Joel just flipped him off and ignored it.
He was in the middle of talking when I went up on tiptoes and cupped his cheek. My lips had barely closed over his before he jerked back like I’d burned him. We stared at each other, neither speaking. My cheeks flushed with humiliation, and I finally dropped my eyes, settling back on my feet.
“I’m…” Oh, god, how do you apologize for kissing somebody? I cleared my throat and sidestepped him, inching toward my car. “I better get. Maggie’ll be wondering where I am. I’ll, um…I’ll see you.”
“Hey.”
I kept walking, praying the whole time the ground would swallow me up. Clearly I’d been thinking we’d been dating and he’d been thinking we’d been hanging out as friends. His stunned expression flashed through my mind again as I unlocked my car door and I had to sniff back tears, embarrassed and angry at myself.
“Wait,” he said, tugging my arm so I’d face him. “What’d you do that for?”
“Because I been misreading this whole thing, apparently.” I gently pulled away and looked up at him. “I’m sorry. Look, just forget about it, ok? I’ll see you later. I just…I need to go.”
“It ain’t you.”
His quiet words stopped me from sliding into my car. For some reason, they made me feel worse. “How’m I supposed to believe that? You got no problem with people seeing us together, but you clam up the second we’re alone. Is it so terrible for me to want you?” His silence got under my skin, making me suddenly angry. I shoved his shoulder, making him step back so I could slam my car door. “You give the ‘it ain’t you, it’s me’ excuse, but we both know that’s bullshit!”
“You don’t know anything about me, girl. You got no business wanting to go there with me.”
I shook my head. “But why? I wasn’t trying to fuck you in the parking lot. I only tried to kiss you, and you acted like you was Superman and my lips were made of kryptonite.” I looked in his eyes, trying to decipher the emotion blazing there. “What are you afraid of?”
He threw his hands up, agitated. “I’m afraid of me, all right! Hell, baby, I look at you and I want you so damn bad, and that scares the hell outta me.” He raked a hand through his dark curls. “Me and relationships, it don’t work! I could fuck up tomorrow, like I did with Sarah’s mom. You don’t deserve that kinda shit.”
“Joel.” I put my hands on my hips and sighed. “Kiss me.”
He stopped his angry pacing and cocked his head. “What?”
“I want you to shut up and kiss me. I ain’t worried about tomorrow. The world might stop turning before then. But you’re here right now, and you’re gonna kiss me.” I caught his hand, laced his rough fingers with mine, holding him still.
He sighed, looking lost. His gaze settled on my lips and he reached up to brush a stray lock of hair out of my eyes. His thumb softly grazed my cheek, and I closed my eyes, leaning into the caress. I tilted my head, waiting. And waiting.
And waiting.
Just when I was about to open my eyes and tell him to forget the whole thing, he moved, closing his fingers around the back of my neck and drawing me closer. His breath tickled my lips, and he hesitated another second as if mustering courage, then brushed his lips over mine. I opened to him, my tongue shyly seeking his. He released my hand and cradled my face between his palms, deepening the kiss. I clung to him, anchoring him to me, wanting to keep him there, his mouth on mine, until the world ended. I’d been kissed plenty, but never with such emotion. Our desire was like a living, breathing thing threatening to gobble us up right then and there.
When he finally pulled away, I shocked myself by panting, “Take me home with you.”
He chewed his lip and stepped back. “You sure?”
I nodded. To be honest, I’d never been more certain of anything in my life. It was a leap, sure, from first kiss to immediately hoping for more—hoping for everything—but I knew my mind and I knew I needed him more than air.
“So damn bossy,” he said, flashing a crooked grin that had the dimple in his right cheek winking.
I returned his grin. “Only when I need to be.”
- - -
Joel’s little house was cozy. I could tell he and Sarah (and maybe Tommy) made an effort to make it nice.
“You need a beer or anything?” he asked.
I shook my head. He worried his cheek again and I laughed. “Do you need a beer?”
He smiled sheepishly and raked a hand through his hair, then caught my wrist and tugged me forward. He rested his arms over my shoulders, and I wrapped mine around his waist. I liked the way he felt against me, all firm and warm. He stared at me, not saying a word, until I fidgeted and ducked my head with a nervous chuckle. Tipping my chin up with the tip of his finger, he lowered his mouth to mine and I melted against him.
“You wanna…move to the bedroom?” I asked between kisses.
“No rush,” he said. “We got all the time we need.” His fingers stilled the work they were doing on the buttons of my uniform. “You’ve done this before, right? I mean, you’re not…”
“A time or two,” I assured him, arching a brow. “And if I hadn’t?”
He blew out a breath and shook his head. “I’d be in a heap of trouble. Remind me to send a thank-you to whoever popped your cherry.”
I laughed, swatting at him indignantly. “Aren’t you supposed to be seducing me?”
“I thought you were seducin’ me?” He lowered his face to my shoulder, but not before I caught sight of that lazy grin. I wished he’d smile openly more often. But then his lips left a nibbling trail across my recently bared skin, and all other thoughts skittered from my mind.
He pushed my uniform down my arms and it slid free, pooling with a soft rustle at my feet. He straightened, examining me in the soft glow cast around us by a table lamp. “So damn beautiful.”
I was tempted to tease him—after all, a plain white bra and a pair of blue cotton panties with cupcakes on them weren’t exactly the stuff I kept in my sexy lingerie drawer—but he was so earnest, so sincere in his praise, that I thought better of it. I thanked him instead, dragging my hands down his chest to grip the hem of his t-shirt. He raised his arms, never taking his eyes from mine, and I lifted it over his head before going back to claim his mouth again.
His hands roamed my skin, down my back, around my hips, down to cup my butt and draw me against him more fully. Mine stayed firmly planted on his shoulders, content to feel the muscles bunch and move beneath his skin.
Nerves and self-doubt began to niggle at the back of my mind. Joel had to have lots more experience at this than I did. What if he had certain tastes? I didn’t know. He might be prefer to be rough and rowdy. I didn’t know how to do that. I’d had sex with my high school boyfriend a lot our senior year, but neither of us really knew what we were doing. Zach, a guy I saw for a while at college, he taught me some stuff, but still, he wasn’t exactly an expert himself. What if I disappointed him?
“Where you at?” he whispered, dragging his lips back up my throat. He pulled back and stared down at me, gently brushing his thumbs over my cheeks. “You okay? We ain’t gotta—”
“Yeah we do!” I winced and giggled nervously at the force in which the words shot out of my mouth. “I just…I don’t want you to…” I huffed a breath and lowered my eyes to a little scar on his cheek. “I don’t wanna be a letdown,” I said in a rush. I could feel my cheeks flush.
His breath puffed against my forehead, stirring my hair, when he scoffed a quiet laugh. “I never know what to expect with you.” He drew me into the warmth of his body, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and holding me close. “There’s no way you could be a letdown, honey.”
I sighed, burying my face against his throat. I trailed my hands up his ribs, grinning when he shifted and twitched. “You’re ticklish.”
“Well shit, even Superman’s got weaknesses.”
I rolled my eyes and tilted my lips up for another kiss. He obliged and things got back on track. He wasn’t in a rush, even though I could feel him, hard and hot, through the denim of his paint-stained jeans. I wrapped my arms around him and inched my fingertips up his back and back down, hooking my fingers in the belt loops at his hips. His lips quirked against my hair and he stepped back, lightly tracing the pads of his fingers over my left breast, directly over my heart. He had the oddest expression just then. Then my breath hitched as his fingers trailed down the valley between my breasts and curved around my ribs. His eyes lit with mischief.
“You’re ticklish.”
I poked him in the hip with my thumb. “Don’t you even think about it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Right now,” he added. He pulled my hands away from him and hooked an arm under me, hauling me up and wrapping my legs around his hips. His jeans scoured the sensitive skin of my thighs and the sensation made my core clench.
He walked me through the house like I weighed nothing, maneuvering through without bumping hardly any furniture, which I thought was impressive considering my fingers were tangled in his hair and I was kissing him senseless. He kicked open a door and I let out a surprised screech as he tossed me onto his bed. I laughed, embarrassed, while he removed my sneakers and socks.
He sat on the end of the bed and took off his boots and then stood and turned, kneeling on the bed and stretching over me. He was so warm, so deliciously heavy. I parted my legs and he settled between them, resuming the kiss we’d been sharing before he’d dumped me on the bed. I lifted my chest against him, giving room between my back and the mattress for him to snake his hands between and unfasten my bra. I heard it clatter somewhere on the dresser when he threw it over his shoulder. He took his time, working his way from my jaw with nibbling little kisses, down my throat and across my chest. He learned the curves of my breasts, memorizing them with his tongue. He learned that I was ticklish on my hip, and he smiled against my skin when he drew my panties down and nipped me with his teeth, making me giggle breathlessly.
I learned some things too. I learned that for all his bluster and rough exterior, he’s an infinitely patient lover. Slow. Senusal.
Perfect.
I also learned that he’ll hurry things along when you cuss at him and sink your teeth into his shoulder.
It wasn’t long after that we were both a sweaty, panting tangle hanging halfway off the mattress. I stretched on top of him, kissed his cheek, his chin, then the tip of his nose, making him snort in amusement. He petted my back and hips, lightly walking his fingertips over my skin.
“I’m so damn happy right now,” I sighed.
He hummed, I guess in agreement. After a moment, he lightly slapped my butt. “I’m hungry.”
Kissing my head, he disentangled himself from me and got up. I pushed myself up the bed, resting against the headboard as he tugged on his jeans and headed for the kitchen.
The little book he often had at the diner was laying on the bedside table. Curious, I picked it up and leafed through it, my mouth dropping at the depth and detail of his drawings. He was an artist, a real one. A sketch of Paul laughing looked so lifelike that I swear I could hear the sound. There were a bunch of diner patrons in various stages and expressions. There were a bunch of me. I looked up, mouth agape, and met his eyes as he came back carrying a package of Oreos.
“You drew me.”
“Draw lots of people,” he said with a shrug. He walked toward me and held out his hand, offering a cookie in exchange for the book.
I held it away from his reach, studying my face through his vision. Clean lines, bright eyes. I looked so happy. No, I looked like happiness. Like the personification of it. He saw me that way. “I’m…I’m beautiful here.”
“I know. So?”
I passed him the book, amazed. Confusion was clear on his features. He really had no idea why I was so surprised to see myself as he saw me.
I think that for all the time we’ve had since, that was the moment I fell in love with Joel Miller.