Page 24 of Diners, Damsels & Wolves

Focusing on the detailed and determined scrubbing of every surface, she forced her mind not to wander. Daydreams were a treacherous luxury she couldn’t afford right now. Her subconscious couldn’t be trusted not to deviate from the plan, wandering traitorously into the imagined arms of a beautiful lumberjack.

When she ran out of things to clean, she turned to Marissa.

“Do we need to do anything else?”

“Nope, that’s it.” Marissa took off her apron. “Donna wants to keep the pie as fresh as she can without having us come in to assemble every day. If we make any more, it won’t get sold before she’ll want it tossed out.”

“Do we need anything else cleaned?”

“You already cleaned everything. We’re done. Clock out already and I’ll see you Wednesday.” Marissa put on her jacket and grabbed her purse, heading for the back door.

After clocking out, Clarissa took her purse and locked herself in the bathroom. She scrubbed her hands three times, washed her face, and deliberated going straight home, ignoring Thomas.

Wouldn’t that be rude though? He’d given her no reason to think he might have ulterior motives or a nefarious angle. She could spare a few moments for him, couldn’t she? Taking care of Rachel didn’t mean she couldn’t have friends … did it? Is that what Tom was? A friend? Is that what she wanted?

With her mind made up, she sprayed herself with peony perfume and left the washroom. Grabbing her hoodie off the hook, she yanked her arms through the sleeves and zipped it up to her chin. The burn marks on her neck would still be visible, but there wasn’t much she could do about that now.

This would be the day she went to work without her turtleneck. At least she hadn’t worn her oversized Batman pullover.

He sat in the far booth of the dining room, a single cup of coffee in front of him. Offering a warm smile, he stood when she came to the table. Frowning, she hadn’t fully registered how freakishly tall he was until that moment … The top of her head hardly came up to his shoulder.

“Hello.” She shuffled her feet.

“Good morning, Clarissa,” he said. “Are you done with your shift?”

“Yes, why?” She eyed him. What was he plotting?

“I’d like you to sit with me for more than three minutes.” He laughed. “I’m still working to fight my way out of the ‘stranger’ category, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make it any harder than it has been. As it is, I’m starting to feel like a stalker, coming here every day just to see you.” His fair skin turned red, matching his hair.

Seeing him flush made her mind wander. What else made him turn red? Her own face went warm. “You were coming here, just to see me?”

“Of course.” He tilted his head, reminding her of a dog. “I thought I was being painfully obvious.”

It seemed like he had more than friendship on his mind. “Maybe I should go.”

“Allow me to buy you lunch.” Flushing darker, he failed to mask the pain rushing his face. Clarissa wondered if all redheads blushed this easily.

“If after talking to me for five minutes you still want to leave, I won’t stop you. Please.”

He was pleading now. Somehow this lumberjack of a man looked like a dejected puppy.

Too late, Clarissa realized she’d genuinely hurt him with her rejection. Was it because he honestly liked her, or because he was an insufferable ass used to always getting his way? Chewing on her lip, she deliberated, then sat down.

He settled in across from her, visibly relieved, and folded his hands atop the table, his eyes boring into her. Shifting in her seat, she pulled the neck of her hoodie further up.

Her hands were restless, fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie. She wanted to get lost in his gaze, but if she did that, she’d end up blurting something inappropriate at him. Her mind needed a distraction. A safe topic a friend would talk about …

“Are you new in town?” she asked.

“No, my family has been here for a few generations. If not my great grandparents, then cousins, aunts, and uncles.”

“I see. I just. Well, I recognized your name and the business, but I don’t recall seeing you around. So, I wasn’t sure.” She was babbling—he seemed to have that effect on her.

“My family tries to keep a low profile.” He chuckled. “In a town this small, it isn’t hard to become the topic of gossip. Since we run such a prolific business, staying out of said gossip is extremely important. My siblings and I all went to the public schools, but we try very hard to fly under the radar, so to speak.”

“I see,” she said. She felt like an idiot. There had to be something she could talk to him about … something that wasn’t her burns, her dead parents, or the attack the other night. What did friends talk about?

“What do you like to do outside of work?”