The Second Chance Café (Hope Springs, #1) (28 page)

He followed, leaning a shoulder into the bank of lockers beside hers, pushing his glasses up his nose with one finger. “Is it?”

She grabbed her texts for English and algebra, hiding the pieces of paper detailing her past behind the stack of books on cooking due back to the library. “I don’t know. I don’t have time to look. I’ve gotta get to class before Mr. Alexander starts timing our test.”

“I’m pretty sure it is.”

Slamming the locker door, she whirled on him. “Why are you doing this? It’s not any of your business. It’s my business. Mine.”

“I just thought you’d want to know. I mean, everyone is wondering why you got taken away from your parents.”

“Then everyone needs to stop wondering. And don’t you dare show that stuff to anyone else. I swear, if you do—”

The bell rang, cutting her off
.

“I hate you, Morris Dexter. I hate you.”

“Wow,” she heard herself say, coming back to the present from the past. That day in the library. She’d been right. She had seen those images, that article, before. “Morris Dexter. I haven’t thought about him in ages.”

“What about him?” Ten asked.

Kaylie’s gaze snapped to his. “You know Morris Dexter?”

“Sure. He owns DX Security. They installed your system.” A look of amusement played across his face. “You didn’t know that?”

Was he kidding? Morris Dexter had been the ultimate tech-geek high school cliché. Bullied by the jocks. Made fun of by the jocks’ girlfriends. Hung out to dry by his so-called friends, who ran at the sight of the jocks. And then there was his need to stick his nose in everyone’s business. Including hers. Especially hers.

“I had no idea. I never talked to him when I called. Just scheduled the consultation and dealt with the tech who came out.”

“What’s your history with him?”

She left the stool, needing coffee. “For some reason during our sophomore year, he decided he wanted to know why I was in foster care. And he went looking.”

“Why would he do that?”

“The same reason you did, maybe?” she asked, and glanced back.

She watched a vein tic in his jaw before he said, “I doubt that.”

She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. And so she asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He brushed off the question, nodded toward the pot, and changed the subject. “I’ll take a cup. Did you know Suzi Gish?”

She recognized the name…“She was on the dance squad. One of the officers, I think.”

He nodded. “They got married right after both graduated from A&M. And then they got divorced.”

“You didn’t go to school in Hope Springs. How do you know about Morris and Suzi?” she asked, filling both of their mugs.

“Same way you knew things about me before we met.”

The news media had nothing on small towns. “This isn’t making any sense. Suzi hated Morris. I mean, no one really liked him. He was such a know-it-all…” She paused. “And obviously with good reason, since he pretty much
did
know it all.”

“He still does.”

She handed him his mug. “I wonder if he’s still a jerk about it.”

“If he is, I don’t think it matters,” Ten said, smiling. “If you think the gossips talk about me, you should hear what they say about him. Especially since he’s single again.”

“Huh.” She reached into the old refrigerator for cream, had a thought, and glanced back at him with the straightest face she could manage. “I’m going to have to have a talk with Luna. She’s supposed to be keeping me up-to-date on the local bachelors.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, sliding from the stool, so large when he stood, and coming closer, his gaze both hooded and sharp.

She backed away, her stomach tightening around the nerves he continued to stir there, until she hit the edge of the counter and was all out of room. She lifted her chin, breathing hard, then held up her hand like a stop sign. She shouldn’t have started this. Right place, but wrong time. This conversation had taken a strange turn the minute she’d remembered Morris Dexter.

And that got her back on track. “I don’t like you thinking I’m not capable of finding out what I need to know about my parents.”

He stopped, his puckish expression quickly becoming a frown. “I don’t think that.”

“Then why are
you
spending time looking for information?”

“What? I told you—”

“I don’t need a head start, Ten. I don’t need things made easier for me.” Did he still not understand the life she’d lived? How nothing about it had been easy? That even the time she’d lived in Hope Springs, as wonderful as those eight years had been, had not been a walk in the park? “I’m not weak or helpless or—”

He moved again, so fast she didn’t have time to dodge him. She’d been waiting for this part of him, his hand holding her wrist, the fire in his eyes. His lust. That most of all, because her own had been building since the last time he’d kissed her. She liked it when he was bold. She hated that they hadn’t further explored that connection…except the moment the wait was over, this moment, when it was finally,
finally
over, was exquisite.

And the feelings—the physical longing as well as the wild rush of emotional hunger—left her breathless and aching,
and aware of the rough skin of his fingers, and the pulse beating for her at the base of his throat. Left her aware, too, that this bond between them, so potent, so rare, would take years of moments to explore. Years with him she wanted. Years she could see in his eyes.

“I don’t think you’re helpless,” he said, reaching for her other wrist with his free hand. “I don’t think you’re weak,” he said, tugging her arms around to the small of his back and pinning her there. “I think you’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. And if I’m making things easier on you, it’s because I’m selfish.”

“Selfish?” The word came out on a breath of air, and when she pulled in her next she smelled him. His skin, his sweat, paint and wood and oil from his tools. She breathed again. Then asked her question again. “Selfish?”

“I want you to make things easier on me.” And then his mouth was on hers, his body flush to hers, both hard, both demanding. She twisted her wrists to break his hold, then slid her palms up the plane of his back.

He groaned, brought his hands to her waist, and lifted her to sit on the counter’s edge. Without thinking, she wrapped her legs around him, hooked her heels around him, moved her arms from his back to his neck and locked her hands around him. His tongue was in her mouth, his lips hard on hers, and she pushed against him, her pressure, her heat, her need for him. And she did need him, for this, but for more.

To let her try, and fail, then to catch her. But also to let her fall if the lesson could only be found on her knees. She needed his shoulder, and his hands, and his heart. Because if she couldn’t make her own way in the world, how would she ever be able to share his?

C
oming around the side of the garage, Ten heard voices and slowed his steps so as not to interrupt. He’d been checking the flow of the buffet room’s new exhaust vent and hadn’t seen Luna arrive. But the female voice was definitely hers, and the other sounded like it belonged to Mitch Pepper.

One half of Kaylie’s new cooking duo had been a constant around Two Owls the last few weeks. Understandable since he was working with her and Dolly Breeze on menus and stuff. But Ten didn’t have to like it. It was bad enough that their conversations had been casual, and often made in passing, but Kaylie’s having to spend more time with Mitch than with him grated. There was something sketchy about the other man. Something Ten seldom felt from the ex-cons he put on his payroll. He’d tried to keep his suspicions from Kaylie, but he was pretty sure she knew he wasn’t a fan of her cook.

“Are you going to tell her?” This from Luna, and Ten stopped, waiting and curious, instead of politely turning away as originally planned.

“I haven’t decided. I mean, how do you just come out with something like that?” And that from Mitch. Ten moved closer to the corner.

“You just do. Choose a time when it’s quiet, get her alone—”

“It’s never quiet here, moon girl. It’s a madhouse all day long.”

“Mitch—”

“Luna, crap. What am I supposed to say? ‘By the way, Kaylie, when you hired me on, I forgot to mention that I’m your father’?”

And
…that was it. Ten shot around the corner, steam coming out of his ears, his heart thwapping like an air gun against his ribs. He slammed to a stop, sending dirt over the toes of his boots and theirs. Luna frowned and reached down to brush hers clean. Mitch looked down, too, but with guilt.

Ten’s gaze traveled from one to the other. “Tell me I didn’t just hear what I think I heard.”

Luna turned away, gnawing at her thumbnail as she pressed her fist to her mouth. Mitch set his hands at his hips and followed the direction of her gaze. And in that moment, not any that had gone before, Ten saw Kaylie in the other man’s face.

Mitch wore his gray hair short, and time had etched itself into his skin, but he held his mouth the same way Kaylie did when she needed to think about what to say, and the length of his nose, the slant…Ten blew out a breath, one fiery with the anger boiling in his veins.

“What is wrong with the two of you? Luna? You brought him here,” he said, waving toward the man he wanted to deck. “What were you thinking? How could you do this to her?”

Luna spun back, gestured wildly with one hand. “I haven’t done anything to her. And I knew Mitch long before I met Kaylie.”

“That’s not an answer. That’s not even an excuse. That’s…nothing,” he said, his fury shooting at his words like clay targets. “Nothing.”

“Well, I don’t know what you want me to say,” she shouted, angry, petulant.

She didn’t have cause to be either. She was the one in the wrong. How could she not see she was in the wrong? “I want you to talk to me. Give me something here that makes sense.”

“Don’t take this out on Luna,” Mitch stepped in front of him to say.

“You…” Ten pointed a finger into Mitch’s chest, still struggling for coherence. “You shut up. You…shut…up. You don’t have any rights here. You don’t have a say. Not in what I do. Not in anything.”

Mitch puffed up, sputtered, grew hot. “I have every right in the world. Kaylie’s my daughter.
My
girl. She’s been mine for all of her life. Long before she was ever yours, if that’s what’s happening here, what’s pissing you off.”

“What’s happening here?
What’s happening here?
Are you kidding me? What do you
think
is happening here? That I’m pissed off because you’re going ruin something for me?” He jerked away, spitting curses and putting distance between himself and the other man. Then slamming a fist into the bark of a tree so he didn’t slam it into Mitch’s face.

Luna stepped in front of Mitch as Ten turned back. “Stop it, Ten. Don’t make this about your relationship with Kaylie.”

“You’re blaming the wrong man for that, Luna.”

“Maybe so, but Mitch is right. Kaylie is his family.”

“You think that’s how she feels? Have you even asked her how she feels?” He looked from one to the other, so angry with both he couldn’t think beyond the moment to how he could possibly make things right for the woman he loved.

He loved her. He did. The feeling swept through him on a buoyant wave, lifting him above the madness, his chest tight, his eyes damp. He had to set this right for her. He had to do it without her getting hurt. But these two people…What they’d done was unconscionable. It was sick and twisted and selfish. Could they not see that? Were they that self-involved?

He shook it off, jamming his hands to his hips and snorting through his nose like a mad bull as he looked at Mitch. “You know she came here to look for you.”

Mitch said nothing, just took a guilty step back.

“It’s the reason she came back to Hope Springs,” Ten said, digging at the sore spot to make Mitch hurt worse. “To find out what happened to her parents. What
she
did to make her mother try to take her own life. What
she
did to make her father leave and never come back.”

Mitch was shaking his head. He couldn’t stop shaking his head. “That’s just wrong. She didn’t do anything. I left to make a better life for her and Dawn.”

“Does she know that? Does she have a single
effin’
clue? Of course she doesn’t. Because you’ve been too busy getting what you want out of this to think about her—”

At that, Mitch swung, connecting with the corner of Ten’s jaw. Ten stumbled back, righted, fisted his own hand but held his rage in check, watching as the older man scrubbed his hand back and forth over his head.

“I have done
nothing
but think about her,” Mitch said, pacing in circles, his voice breaking. “Every day of my life. Every moment I was overseas serving my country. She was the only thing on my mind. Getting back to her. Taking care of her.”

Ten hadn’t known any of this, Mitch’s service, his making a better life. Down the road the truth of where the other man had been, and why, might lessen the hate eating him up, but not now. “You’ve got a messed-up way of showing it, then.”

“What would you have me do? Just come out and tell her? Upset everything she’s made for herself?”

“Because waiting makes it better?”

“No,” Mitch said, wilting in front of Ten, his fight gone, sadness taking over, guilt hard on its heels. “Waiting’s never what I meant to do. I just needed time. I had to get to know her. In case once she did find out, she kicked me out of her life for good. I had to have this time.”

Ten pulled in a deep breath, blew it out, popped his neck, and worked his jaw as if that would ease the pain of Mitch’s fist slamming into his face. “If she does kick you out of her life? It won’t be about where you were for most of hers. It’ll be about this. About the lie. About coming here and passing yourself off as a cook.”

“I am a cook. It’s what I know. Her mother made sure I wouldn’t have a chance to be a father.”