Chapter 11

Nine o’clock comes and goes, and though I try to delay my dinner break, I finally sit down in Martha’s office to slam a sandwich and fries.

Usually, I sit on the floor or stand at the counter, but with Gabe not being here like he said, I don’t want to look pathetic. And I know I’d be watching the door like a hawk, because that’s what I did from eight thirty to nine fifteen.

I remind myself that he said he’d ‘try’ to be here at nine and then hang out until I got off, and that’s not exactly the same thing as a sure date. Any number of things could’ve come up between this morning and tonight.

With a final swallow, I set my dishes in the back sink, straighten my apron, and wash my hands. I slick a quick layer of tinted lip balm on and pinch my cheeks, trying to perk myself up from the disappointment of another dinner alone.

All business, all the time. That’s me, and I don’t know why I thought for a minute that I maybe could have something else, something lighter and livelier and just for me. I know better. That’s not my life.

But Mia used to be all about number-crunching and she had an amazing thing happen to her, so maybe there’s hope for the rest of us, my romantic heart murmurs.

Torn between fantasy and reality, I hit the floor again, thanking Elaine for covering my tables.

It’s nearly nine thirty when the doorbell tinkles and my heart leaps in my chest. I can feel the difference in the room when Gabe walks in, a smile on his face. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Some stellar conversationalist skills I’ve got, I think. “Glad you could make it,” I greet him, genuinely smiling for the first time all shift, but then I intentionally add, “I already had my break, couldn’t wait any longer or Elaine wouldn’t be able to cover for me.”

He winces, rubbing at his hair. “Sorry. I didn’t think it’d be this late, but I got hung up with work and knew you couldn’t check your phone much while you’re on shift. I’m glad you didn’t wait. You need to eat when you can. I was hoping I could make it up to you by hanging out until you get off? Maybe we can do something then?”

His face is open, and it appears he’s being sincere, both of which go a long way in my book. Also, he gets brownie points for knowing I can’t be on my phone and that I needed to chow down when I could. He said he’d ‘try’ to be here at nine, that same voice hisses in my ear.

I think for a moment, letting him stew a little bit but knowing I’ve already made up my mind. He’s exciting and different, a bright spot in my doldrum life, something just for me. And I’m not going to deprive myself of his yumminess, however it comes, however often he stops by, or however long he stays.

Maybe that makes me easy, but I think it makes me human.

So I smile as I push my hair behind my ear and point to a stool at the counter. “Sounds like a plan. How was your day?” I let all my previous doubts and insecurities go, happy to just be here with him in this moment.

Take life as it comes, Izzy.

“Not bad. Looking much better now,” he says, sliding into a seat at the counter.

He tosses that half-smile that leaves me forgetting that my feet hurt after a long day of running around. Hell, that smile makes me forget how to breathe. And judging by the way it morphs into a cocky smirk, he damn well knows it.

“How was yours?”

“Good, one morning class, then helped my bestie do some house moving before my shift tonight,” I reply.

Seeing Mia and Charlotte today for a little while had been great, especially since it was a milestone moment for us. One of our trio is moving up the adulthood ladder by moving in with her man.

Mia had gleefully shown us around her new penthouse home while simultaneously directing the movers, liberally sprinkling ‘our house’, ‘our bedroom’, and ‘our plans’ into the whole tour.

It’d been pretty adorable, actually, but make no mistake, when we got to her precious gaming setup, it was all ‘my’, ‘mine’, and ‘don’t touch’ in her occasionally-present Russian accent, even to Thomas, who’d wandered in to say hello.

He’d ignored her semi-joking selfishness like it was their norm, which it probably is, and just wrapped her in his arms and nibbled on her neck, distracting her from telling us all about the new TERA game update. He’d winked at Charlotte and me, mouthing you’re welcome.

I’d been thrilled for her, and even as I stand here on uncertain ground, I’m still happy she’s getting her happily ever after. She deserves it.

I bring Gabe a menu, and as he reaches for it, I notice a bandage on his wrist. It’s a big one, and I wince. “Ooh! What’d you do, try to get yourself killed?”

Gabe looks at the bandage and chuckles. “Just a scratch. The bandage makes it look a lot worse than it actually is.”

I devil him a bit, pretending to poke at the wound. “After your crack gun shot skills, I’d have thought you’d be damn-near invincible. Guess you’re human after all, huh?”

He sets the menu down, his bandaged hand going to his lap, and I see something pass through his eyes, but it’s gone too fast for me to recognize and label it.

A customer calls for me, and I hold up a finger to excuse myself from Gabe. I head over, taking their order.

As I do, I think back to my conversations with the girls today.

Mia is understandably on the side of love, lovemaking, and generally spreading glittery happiness everywhere. It’s a good look on her.

Surprisingly, Charlotte is virtually the polar opposite right now, her sourness coming from the last guy she dated and really liked, who’d ended up as a married father of five.

She’d dropped him faster than he could say, “My wife knows and doesn’t care!” So she’s reasonably on the side of caution and distrust. Realistically, Char’s more likely correct even though Mia spouted off statistics about marriage rates, divorce rates, and some other numerical info I couldn’t possibly keep straight.

Mostly, I keep hearing Char’s voice, telling me to be wary, slow my roll, and run a background check on Gabe. It’s not like I think he’s the one, but I probably should be careful.

Keep it flirty and just have fun.

“It really has been too long,” I mutter under my breath, mentally arguing with Mia and Charlotte. To my surprise, Gabe chuckles. I look up, not even realizing that I had drifted back closer to him.

“What’s been too long?” he asks, and I can sense the heat to his question.

Even if I’d been talking about too long since I’d had a nap, which I wasn’t, I’m thinking about sex now. And to be fair, I was thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve had a partner-accompanied orgasm. B.O.B. has been my sole date for months.

“Oh, nothing,” I deflect. “Sorry. My friends are living rent-free in my brain.”

“You should charge them. Might help things,” Gabe teases lightly, making me laugh and thankfully not pressing for an answer to his previous question. “What are they saying?”

“Well, first, you have to know that one is literally in the midst of her happily ever after and one just got blindsided. So it’s all filtered through those lenses.” I point to my right shoulder, and say, “Mia here is jumping up and down, clapping and telling me to go out with you, or stay in with you, but to see where this goes.”

His eyebrows climb his forehead and his eyes darken, but there’s a sparkle of joy in them. “And the other?”

I look to my left shoulder, intoning, “Charlotte is telling me to be polite but recognize that I don’t know you, and realistically, you don’t give off the vibe of someone staying in town long-term. And she reminds me that I’m not a one-night-stand kind of girl.”

I barely hold back offering ‘but I could try to be’ because for Gabe, I might ‘hit that’ even with no promises.

There’s just something about him that calls to me, body and mind, and I know if I don’t at least try, I’ll always wonder and probably regret it.

His mouth opens and shuts like a fish, and I’m pretty sure I just dumped way too much information on his shoulders.

The door dings before Gabe can gather his thoughts enough to ask me which way I’m leaning, and I look up as heartburn walks in the door.

Well, not exactly heartburn, but the same delivery driver, along with two other customers behind him.

We’re usually not this slammed this late at night, but they just keep coming today.

Seeing my conundrum, Gabe waves me off. “Go take care of business. I’ll be here when you get a minute. And I’m staying until you get off tonight.”

My thighs clench together with hopeful wishes that he means that in more than one way.

Shut up, Charlotte, I can be a one-and-done if I want to be.

Within ten minutes, The Gravy Train’s in chaos and Elaine and I are in the weeds. Besides seating the three new tables, two other tables want to add extra orders, and it’s so bad that Henry himself has to bring the plates to the counter because we’re doing our best to keep the main floor caught up.

“Here you go, ma’am,” Henry says, setting a plate down. “Sorry about the wait, seems we’ve got a packed house all of a sudden. Food’s worth it, though.” He’s trying to be charming and kind, but the woman’s having none of his apologies.

I glance over from where I’m writing down Delivery Driver’s order, thankfully simple tonight with a double cheeseburger and fries, when the woman replies. “It’s kind of hard to mess up a ham and swiss melt.”

Henry shrugs and heads back to the grill, but I can see the vein throbbing in his temple and know he’s getting stressed out, which isn’t good for his ulcer and therefore, isn’t good for any of us.

I clip the driver’s order to Henry’s spinner and scan the floor. Table seven needs refills, which I make quickly and deliver with a smile, promising their onion rings are coming right up. Table twelve is making a waving check mark in the air, so I flip through the slips in my apron and drop it off.

Thankfully, they offer cash and don’t need change.

“My burger’s fucking ready. You gonna get it or should I do it my damn self?” I hear from behind me. I glance up, and though Henry never hit the bell, Delivery Driver’s burger and fries plate is sitting on the warming shelf.

My lips spread in the plastic not-smile everyone who’s ever worked customer service has and tell the man, “I’ll grab that now.” But I don’t hurry. He doesn’t deserve for me to raise my heartrate one extra beat in hustle for his sorry ass.

“Shitty fuckin’ food and shitty fuckin’ servers. Lazy bitch.”

My teeth are grinding as I move behind the counter to grab the plate, slow as dripping molasses as I check and double-check for accuracy.

Quality assurance at its fucking finest by Ms. Isabella Turner. You’ll get your burger when I’m damn good and ready to deliver it.

Suddenly, I hear a commotion behind me as hands slap on a table and a voice growls out, “Apologize.”

I turn, my jaw dropping as I see Gabe on his feet, his back to me as he stares at Delivery Driver. “What the fuck?” Driver asks, his face going a little white as he looks up at Gabe. “Seriously, man?”

“The people here are working their asses off and doing the best they can. Doesn’t matter how much you hate your life, it doesn’t give you the right to spread that anger onto these folks.”

“Who the fuck are you to tell me—”

“I’m the guy saying you need to find another late-night hangout if this is how you’re going to behave,” Gabe says, reaching down and ‘helping’ Delivery Driver out of his seat. “Get out and go learn some damn manners.”

For a moment, I’m worried Delivery Driver’s going to throw a punch. But I’m rooted in place, something freezing me as I watch him stare into Gabe’s eyes. The coldness is back, the same coldness I saw at the shooting range.

Right now, Gabe could hurt this man and not even blink an eye. Tension fills the air as Driver’s hand clenches but then relaxes, and he takes a step back, knowing he can’t win against Gabe or a roomful of people all sneering at him.

Henry’s out of the kitchen again, and behind him is Martha, who’s watching from the pass-through to the kitchen with the phone in her hand. My guess is she’s already half-dialed 9-1-1 because while she’s intimidating as hell, this is beyond even her skills.

“Fuck this. I don’t need this place anyway.”

Gabe doesn’t move as Delivery Driver backs up, stopping at the door. “Hey, cook boy. You should fire that bitch.”

He points a thumb my way, making it clear who he means. But then he locks his gaze back on Gabe, anger fraying his control even when his brain knows it’s a losing battle. He puffs up, head tilting wildly as he adds to the charges against me.

“Letting people like this asshole get all up in people’s faces. Fuck this place.”

He storms out, and everyone in the place holds their breath for a second longer. I’m surprised when Martha starts applauding softly. I wasn’t sure she’d take too kindly to Gabe taking it upon himself to kick a customer out.

A couple of other customers, including a few regulars, join in, and heat flushes my face as Gabe turns around and gives me a look that has my stomach flip-flopping.

Never has a man looked at me with such possessiveness, care, and more than a little desire. I’m about point-two seconds from running and launching myself at him, ready to ride him like a cowgirl. Luckily, or maybe it’s unluckily, Martha gets in the way of my straight beeline to Take-Me Town.

“Thank you,” Martha tells Gabe as she comes out, an unfamiliar smile on her face. “Saved me the trouble. I was about to do the same damn thing.” We all know that’s not the least bit true. Even if she’d wanted to, I don’t think Martha, as intimidating as she is, has anything on the fear factor Gabe can inspire. “Though I’d appreciate it if you’d let me do the kicking out next time.”

Gabe nods, and Martha hums, satisfied.

Martha turns to me. “Looks like you’ve got an extra burger and fries. Why don’t you give that to your friend as a thank you? Then help us get caught up and get outta here. You’ve earned it, and Elaine and I can handle this place. We did for years before you came along, honey.”

I start to argue out of habit, the running totals of bills versus tips sizing up in my mind. But tonight, I can’t seem to care. Martha is right. I’ve earned this.

A night off to be young, dumb, and broke, as the song says. I’ve never had that, always too serious, too weighed down with responsibilities, too stuck in could’ve-beens from my past. So tonight, I’m shrugging all that off. And telling the mini-Charlotte on my shoulder to shut up and let me be a little wanton tonight if I want to be.

I look to Elaine, who nods, eyes darting to Gabe and then the door, telling me to take that man and go.

“Thanks.” I shove the cheeseburger plate in front of Gabe, who’s sat back down at the counter, promising, “I’ll be quick.”

He picks up a fry, taking a big bite and talking around it. “I’m here until you’re ready to go. Whenever that is.” And then he winks at me, like a legitimate, actual wink. That’s something I thought guys only did as a cheesy pickup move, but on Gabe, it looks sexy. Like he knows tonight’s something special for me.

Heat creeps up my neck, and I know my face is probably a few shades of bright pink as I get to work.

It seems like everyone in the diner is in on the ‘Get Izzy Out of Here’ plan because every table is beyond easy, asking for refills and a check or saying they haven’t had Martha as a waitress in so long, they’d like to request her. I sneak glances at Gabe, who’s shoving the burger and fries down his throat like he wants to be done as fast as possible.

Me too, man. Me fucking too.

Fifteen minutes later, I’ve helped clear out the main floor and Martha’s standing in front of me with a to-go box. “Take this and get out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I take the box, handing it to Gabe to hold while I run to the back. I’m definitely hustling now, elbows damn-near pumping to get to my purse as fast as I can. I take a quick minute to yank a brush through my hair, slick on ChapStick, and pop a mint.

I can’t do much about the fry grease-smelling shirt, so I spritz a little body spray on top of it, hoping French fry-lavender is a pleasing combo.

When I come back out, I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, but mine meet Gabe’s and never waver. I watch as the light sparks in the darkness there, see the slight crinkles at the corners as his smile blooms in slow motion. “Ready?”

“Yep.” I mean it to sound cool and casual, but it comes out breathy and dreamy.

His smile turns to a cocky smirk, knowing that he’s causing me to lose it. But it’s mutual. For all his chill control, I can feel the swirling tension coming off him in waves. And fuck, do I want to swim in that ocean, get pulled under by his riptide, even if it sets me adrift in his wake after he’s gone.

He holds out a hand, and I slip mine into it, interweaving our fingers. As we walk out, I almost feel like it’s a movie, the diner customers watching out the window as we make our way across the lot.

We stop next to a red SUV and Gabe opens the door for me. I start to climb in and then freeze. “Where are we going?”

“First, we’re going right here. Martha told me there’s cherry pie and ice cream in this box, so we need to eat it now or the ice cream will melt and ruin the pie. We probably could’ve eaten it inside, but I was afraid if I didn’t get you out of there, we’d never leave.”

I laugh, knowing he’s right. “And then?”

He moves in close, not touching his body to mine, but so close that I can feel the electricity flowing between us. I tilt my chin up, inviting him, damn-near begging him to kiss me, wanting to taste him and see if he’s dark and bitter like coffee or sweet and bright like candy. Maybe a mix of the two?

But he doesn’t kiss me, instead using his free hand to cup my jaw. “And then we’ll see where we want to go from there.”

He’s giving me an out. A gentlemanly thing to do, a way to slow the pace to whatever I’m comfortable with. But tonight, I don’t want slow and nice. I want . . . Gabe.

“Cherry pie with cream it is,” I say, teasingly channeling my inner Jessica Rabbit sultriness.

He laughs, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing, but I go with it and laugh back as he helps me into the SUV. He walks around to the driver side, getting in and setting the to-go box on the console between us.

He opens the plastic-wrapped spoon, looking at me only half apologetically. “Martha said you were running short on plasticware, only gave me the one.”

Ooh, that sneaky fox. I know there’s a whole box of plastic spoons, forks, knives, even sporks in the store room. But in this case, I’m not arguing as Gabe scoops up a mouthful of delectable dessert and offers it to me.

I let him feed me and smile as he alternates, feeding himself from the same spoon too. “It’s good, right? Martha’s family recipe.”

He moans appreciatively, and the sound makes me imagine what he’d sound like slipping into me.

His thoughts don’t seem to be as dirty as mine because he asks, “Tell me about you? Who is Isabella Turner?”

The way he looks at me warms me in a different way. Mia and Char know my story, and after working here so long, Elaine does too, but not everyone listens. He seems actually interested, though, not like he’s making polite conversation and expecting a textbook ‘normal childhood’ story.

“Well, let’s see. I wasn’t born here in Roseboro,” I start, looking down. “My family and I lived up near Tacoma, my parents and my big brother. I... I lost them when I was only five.”

“I’m sorry,” Gabe says quietly, but not in that uselessly superficial way. Instead, he looks like he genuinely feels bad for me. “What happened?”

“A plane crash,” I whisper. “Uhm, Dad was a businessman. I guess a lot of businessmen have a side hobby, but instead of golf or art or anything like that, he was into airplanes. I only remember little bits, but his home office was filled with models, and he had this Cessna. He’d take us up, fly us over Puget Sound, but I didn’t go up often. I was little and Mom was nervous about me touching something I shouldn’t. So Dad would let me sit in his lap when the plane was grounded, letting me pretend to fly as he promised that one day, he’d teach me. They left me at home with a sitter that day. Freak accident that couldn’t have been prevented. Dad . . .”

I choke a bit and clear my throat to cover it. “He did everything right, did all he could. It just wasn’t enough.”

I wipe a tear from beneath my eye and look down. “Sorry, that’s probably more than you wanted to hear.”

I know better than to get too deep into the tragedy of my childhood. Most people don’t truly care or they think I should be over it by now. It’s always safer to gloss over it and move along, but something about Gabe made me feel safe enough to share. That instinct proves accurate when he doesnt flinch away but instead asks for more.

“I’m sorry, Bella,” Gabe says again. “What happened afterward?”

“Well, I was sent to live with my aunt, my mom’s sister. She was the only person left in my family who could care for a young kid. She lived here in Roseboro, so I moved here to stay with her. My grandparents were older, but they helped as much as they could. They passed a few years later, and then it was just me and Reggie.”

I sigh, looking down as I twist the napkin in my hands. “Reggie was kind. She had a lot of love in her, but not much else. She was my mother’s older sister, the wild child of the family. She’d mostly settled down by the time I came around, and taking care of me left her with no time for crazy escapades. But she didn’t have a diploma or any real skills to speak of, and her body was decades older than it should’ve been from the years of abuse. So she couldn’t work much, and when she did, we... well, things were like that old Wu Tang track. Rough and tough like leather. But she loved me, and I loved her. She was all I had.”

“Was?” Gabe says quietly. “When did she pass?”

“Three weeks after I graduated high school,” I recall. “Pancreatic cancer. Fast and lethal. The hospital bills sucked up all we had, ironically taking the small inheritance I had left from my parents because we’d been too busy working, didn’t have time to get it transferred out of Reggie’s name. The hospital didn’t care that it was really my money, not hers, saying that since she was technically on the account, they were taking their money first. It was all of it.”

I can’t help but huff a humorless laugh at the memory of the scared eighteen-year-old kid I’d been, begging a guy in a suit to leave me with something as he shrugged his shoulders like there was nothing he could do.

“And that guy I was telling you about?”

“Ah, that guy,” Gabe says, his voice dropping to a fierce rumble. “How’s he fit in?”

“Reggie bought the house a long time ago and had paid it off with my parents’ money to give me a secure place to grow up. But it sits on land that’s owned by someone else, originally Russell’s parents. Their family bought it back when it was mill housing for the factory workers, I think. They wouldn’t sell Reggie the land, but they didn’t charge her much for the lease. After she died, they told me they’d do the same thing for me, which was a huge relief. They were decent people, knew that house was all I had left of my family.”

I growl, my mood shifting, “But when they died, Russell took over and things went to hell in a handbasket. Russell’s the creepy neighbor.”

Gabe looks at me sharply, his voice low and protective. “Any more trouble?”

I shake my head, trying to be reassuring. “No. The gun is put away safely, but I can get to it if he gets squirrelly. I really think he’s more talk and bluster than action, though.” I silently pray that saying the words will make it truer because the reality is, I don’t believe Rusty is harmless and mouthy. I think he’s getting more and more dangerous as each passing day draws him deeper into addiction.

I can tell Gabe doesn’t quite believe me, but he lets it go, surmising with a bit of awe, “But you keep going. You’ve never given up.”

“No... I guess I haven’t,” I admit. “Reggie always taught me that education was the way out, said dropping out was her biggest regret. So I worked my ass off in high school to get good grades while helping with the household bills, and I’m still working my butt off, paying my way through college, semester by semester. It’s taking forever, but I’m going to get there.” This time, I don’t need the universe to hear the truth of the words. I’m going to make it happen myself, no matter what.

“I admire that,” Gabe says honestly. “You’ve fought for everything you have, and when you have what you want in life, you can look back and say you earned every bit of it. Not too many people can honestly say that.”

I chuckle, and Gabe tilts his head at the odd response to his compliment. “What?”

“You should meet my friend, Mia. She’s got this saying.” I adopt her fake Russian accent. “Don’t ask for it, Tovarich. Earn it. Do that, and you’ll be rewarded.”

Gabe’s brows shoot together, the question in his chocolate eyes before his mouth forms the word. “Tovarich? Mia’s . . . Russian?”

I lightly tap his arm, careful not to spill the melted mess of ice cream in the to-go box between us. “Very good. She’d be proud. We tease her that she’s pseudo-Russian. Her Papa most definitely is, but Mia was born in the US. Her history is important to her, though, and she has all these ‘Russian’ sayings and can put on an accent that’d make you think she grew up in Central Moscow. She’s a hoot, a rainbow-haired, number-crunching geek who just moved in with her uptight, suit-and-tie-type man.”

Gabe hums, smiling a little as he deadpans, “Sounds like a match made in heaven.” He finishes with, “Wise words, though.”

“So what about—” I ask, but before I can ask about his life story, the light in the parking lot changes. I look over to the front of the diner and see the glowing red ‘Open’ sign has gone dark. Inside, I can see Elaine, Henry, and Martha peering out the door, smiles on their faces as they very obviously talk about the fancy Range Rover in the lot and its two occupants. “Oh, God, they probably think we’re fucking right here in the diner lot,” I mumble, burying my face in my palms.

Gabe’s laugh is a big burst from his belly, filling the cabin of the Rover. “You make a habit of that? Or have a lot of problems with lot lizards?”

I turn my head, glaring at him. “Of course not. The Gravy Train is a classy joint.” I say it with a straight face but can’t hold it, and suddenly, I’m laughing too.

Maybe we’d better get on out of here?” Gabe asks. “Before they call the cops on questionable activities in their parking lot?”

He’s still asking, kind and sweet, about our progress even as I sense the need churning in him. But he’s got it on lockdown, controlling the wildness I want him to unleash.

“Definitely,” I say before my fear changes my mind. I’m not scared of Gabe, not at all, but maybe of doing something crazy just because I want to.

It’s not the responsible and future-minded Izzy I’ve always been. But a bit of untamed joy in the present moment sounds like something I’ve always needed and pushed aside. Maybe it’s not the right time to indulge, with Russell threatening me, school finals looming, and next semester’s fees due any day. But maybe it’s the conglomeration of those things that makes this the perfect time to let loose for once.

I deserve this. I’ve earned this.

Gabe starts the SUV, the headlights turning on automatically and the instrument panel glow lighting his face. I can see his relief that I agreed, his desire burning my skin where his gaze touches me. It’s a lot to take in, and I inhale, turning toward the window for a moment to let the butterflies in my belly settle.

I see that Elaine’s smile is huge now, a knowing look in her eyes, and then she waves goodbye with a nod, like she’s proud of me for doing something just for me for once.

I wave back, and as Gabe pulls out of the lot and into the light midnight traffic, I sink into the seat, letting the luxurious leather wrap around me. I’ve never done anything like this before.

“So, where are we going, anyway?” I ask as Gabe gives me a dazzling smile, his dimples bookending his white teeth.

“It’s a secret,” Gabe says with a lift of his brow. “A gem of a place I discovered.”