Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

BECCA

Mick, Stephanie, and I walk into The Café the next day. "Wow, I can't believe y'all got the broken window taken care of that quickly."

"When Ruby puts her mind to something, it gets done." Stephanie cuts her eyes at me. "Especially when it involves The Café."

"How many do you need?" Leigh asks, walking up to us.

It always amazes me that she continues to work, even when she obviously doesn't need to. "Three, please." I hold up three fingers.

"Y'all want a table or a booth? I have both open."

Mick prefers booths. "Booth, please." When we're seated, and he's tucked in next to me, I reach over and grab the menu.

Stephanie snorts. "I don't know why you're even looking at that thing? You get the same chicken fingers every time we come here."

"What can I say? I'm a creature of habit." The truth of the matter is, I hate having to decide. I do it so much during my job, and with Mick. Sometimes I just don't want to think. Decision fatigue is something I struggle with.

Our server comes over, and if I'm not mistaken, it's Stella, Ransom's wife. "Hey, what do y'all want to start out with?"

I glance up. "What are you doing here tonight?"

She gives a wry smile. "It's my turn to pull the family shift. I'm horrible at it, but Ransom volunteered to take the kids grocery shopping, and if I don't have to do that? I'm willing to do anything else. Having said that, sorry to y'all because I really am a bad server."

Stephanie snorts. "Can't be any worse than I was. I served for approximately thirty minutes before I was fired. They didn't even let me keep my tips because I broke an entire tray of plates and glasses."

"That stuff is heavy, right?" Her body sags and head tilts to the side. "I'm glad I work out, but it's still not enough to hold that damn tray. Oops, sorry." She sees Mick in the corner. "Should probably watch my mouth closer."

"It's fine." I reach out, pushing his hair back from his face. "I'm sure he's heard worse."

"What can I get y'all to drink, and if you're ready to order, I can take that too."

We struggle through with Stella, but it's full of laughs, and totally worth it. I haven't laughed that hard in a while.

"Thanks for being patient with me. I'll get this out to you in a few minutes."

"Take your time." I reach to the middle of the table, grabbing a package of the crackers they keep there. I'm starving because I haven't eaten today, and I desperately need something to stop the growling. This is one of the worst parts of when I have to work overnight. My schedule gets completely messed up, and I'm struggling to fix it for a few days. Just as soon as I get it straightened out, I have to pull another overnight. Looking at Mick, I can't help but think he's got a sad face today. "How was school?"

He kicks his feet against the booth. He's so much smaller than most kids his age, I've wondered if his mom was doing things she shouldn't have been. I haven't brought it up with my brother, but I keep meaning to. "It was okay, I dropped my backpack and everything spilled out, but an older kid helped me pick it up."

"That was super nice of them."

"It was," he agrees. "I was scared at first that I wasn't going to pick everything up before kids started stepping on it."

His anxiety expands and contracts with most days. I wish there was something I could do for him to make him feel safer. Realistically, I know I'm fighting against what his parents have done to him, and it's going to be a hard one. "I'm glad no one stepped on your stuff. Is your backpack broken or anything?" I've found he won't offer me things. I have to ask specific questions.

"No." He shakes his head. "I was opening it to grab something out, and it slipped."

"Okay, if it ever does break, you know you can tell me, right?"

His dark eyes look up into mine. "I know. You won't yell at me for it happening, either."

"No." I reach out, putting my hand over his. "I won't. Accidents happen, and not every one of them is your fault."

He nods, his lips pressing together into a thin line. "Love you, Aunt Bec."

This is recent, him telling me he loves me. Each time he says it, I hold it tight against my chest like a letter I'll need to look at in the future. His therapist has explained to me how hard it is for him to share his feelings, and how much he obviously trusts me in order to do that. "Love you, too."

Stephanie whistles low in her throat. "He is such a fine specimen of a man. How do you work with him?"

Turning around, my gaze lands on the door, where someone has walked in with a couple of members of the Laurel Springs Police Department. My eyes travel along their backs, and I immediately know who she's talking about. I'd know that back anywhere. It's Madden.

Stella greets them all with hugs and a bright smile. I wish I was that close to them, that I were able to feel that free in my actions with Madden. He turns toward me, and his eyes meet mine. It's as if the oxygen gets sucked out of the room. There's never been another man who has affected me the way he does. I wish I knew what made him so irresistible to me. I've never been the type of person to have crushes, so this and that dude on the internet are taking me by surprise. He holds up a hand, waving, and dumbly I wave back.

"He's so hot," Stephanie whispers. "Does he have friends who look like him?"

I don't take my gaze from him, but answer anyway. "I'm pretty sure most of them are married and not single. You're gonna have to settle for the dudes you meet on the dating apps."

She groans. "But that is so not going well."

Don't I know it?

"He works at my school," Mick says out of the blue. "I saw him and his dog there this week."

"Yeah, I heard he might be the new School Resource Officer. Have you been able to meet Donut yet? He's pretty cool."

He shakes his head.

"Well, if you're able to, you should."

The group of them are led to a table, and to keep from embarrassing myself, I pull my gaze from them, and look at my fingers gripping each other, resting against the formica.

Stephanie gives me a look from where she's sitting. "One day, Bec, it'll be our turn."

But when is that going to be?