Chapter 5

5

ELODIE

I t takes almost every ounce of strength I have to pull my grandmother's old pickup truck—a Ford F-150 that was new back in the 80s and I named the Beast—into the parking lot behind Stu's Diner. Having been around longer than anybody can even remember, Stu's is an institution in Emerson—a distinction bestowed upon it simply because the Miller family have owned, operated, and been rotting the guts out of Emerson's residents for three generations. I guess that sort of longevity makes a place an institution.

Still, I have to say, as greasy and artery-clogging as most of the menu is, they do make some fantastic food. Stu's BBQ bacon cheeseburger and onion rings have been my go-to comfort food since I was a kid. Looking back on it now and considering how often I stuffed one of those monstrosities in my face, I'm surprised I didn't get a heart attack first.

It's been forever since I've had one, and given everything going on right now, I think I need and deserve a little comfort food. Getting out of the truck, I walk to the front door and pull it open. The bell overhead jingles as I step in and survey the room. Like most days, there's a robust lunchtime crowd. Nothing has changed in the nearly five years I've been gone. Like, not a thing. There's actually a dark grease stain on the floor I remember from the last time I was here. It even smells exactly the same. Of course, that smell is of greasy things being fried half to death, which is a staple at Stu's, so I shouldn't be too surprised. Still, there's definitely something comforting about the familiarity and hit of nostalgia.

"Elodie Carter, as I live and breathe."

A large, burly man steps around the counter, his arms wide and absolute joy on his face. I step forward and let the big man embrace me. I went to high school with Billy and had always gotten on well with him.

"Billy Miller," I say. "How have you been?"

"Really good. And how's life out in LA?"

"Can't complain," I say. "What have you been up to?"

"Same old, same old. Pop's grooming me to take over the diner."

"And when will you be having a kid of your own that you can pass it along to?"

"Don't you dare curse me like that, woman," he grouses. "Nicole has been talking about wanting kids, and honestly, the thought of it terrifies me."

"You're still with Nikki?"

His cheeks flush. "I am."

"That's great, Billy. I'm happy for you guys. And for whatever it's worth, I think you'd make a great dad," I tell him.

"Thanks, El. I guess we'll find out sooner than later. Nik's getting impatient."

"It'll happen when it's meant to happen."

"True enough," he says. "Anyway, I heard about your gram. How's she doing?"

"She's hanging in there. Stubborn as a mule still."

"That's never going to change," he says with a chuckle. "And what's the prognosis?"

"Dr. Collier expects a full recovery."

"That's good news."

"It is."

"And it's good of you to come home to take care of her."

"Much to Mam's chagrin. She's been trying to get me to go back to LA out of guilt from the moment I walked in the door."

He shrugs his wide shoulders. "That's just not the way we do things here in Emerson. We take care of our own."

"Right?"

He laughs. "Let's see if I remember right. BBQ bacon cheeseburger and a side of onion rings, extra crispy."

"Your mind is like a steel trap, my friend."

"How about your gram?"

I frown. "That's a good question."

"Don't worry, I'll whip up something light and healthy."

"You can do that here?"

He laughs. "I'll have you know, I'm adding healthier options to our menu."

"Nikki's making you, isn't she?"

"It doesn't matter how we arrived at this point, but … yes."

His booming laughter echoes around the dining room as I take a seat at a nearby table and scroll through my phone, waiting for my order to come out. I hear the bell tinkling as somebody steps into the diner, and when I glance at the door, I groan. The man coming through is tall and lean, with shaggy, sandy-blonde hair, and brown eyes. Dark stubble covers his cheeks and chin, and he's got the same rugged, outdoorsy appearance he's always had. The man who steps in behind him is a few inches shorter, heavyset, with a shaved head and a long, thick beard. They both smirk when they see me sitting at my table.

"Well, what do we have here?" says the taller of the two. "Elodie Carter."

"Todd Yelkin and Hank Ginter," I say, my voice tight.

I went to high school with them both and spent my days trying to avoid them. A former star athlete, Todd is one of those guys who peaked in high school and now spends his days living on his past glories. Frankly, I'm surprised he's not still wearing his old letterman jacket. Or more likely, he only wears it out on special occasions. Hank has always been Todd's toadie, yes-man, and designated ego-stroker. Looking at them both standing there, it doesn't seem like things on that front have changed at all in the last five years.

Unbidden, they drop down at my table, and Todd leers at me every bit as sickeningly as he used to back in high school. Back then, Todd made an annoying sport out of trying to get into my pants. He was upfront about it, telling me he didn't want a relationship, he just wanted to fuck. Points for transparency, I guess. He was the sort who wouldn't take no for an answer. Instead, he just kept on pushing and picking at me, doing his best to wear me down and get me to give in to his lurid advances.

He'd charmed his way into the pants of half the girls in school, but with me, he never succeeded, which he seemed to take as a personal affront. And every time I turned him down, it only encouraged him to try harder. He made my high school years incredibly annoying and uncomfortable as hell. It seemed like everywhere I turned, he'd be there, trying to get me to come out to his family's lake house for a little party. His constant and dogged pursuit of my virginity made life a living hell for me back in those days.

What I always found most pathetic was Todd actually thinking I'd ever drop my panties for him. Admittedly, he's not a bad-looking man, but I've always found him to be utterly repulsive. He's not very smart. He had absolutely zero ambition, and even back then, I knew he wasn't going anywhere in life. He seemed content to be a big fish in a small pond. And looking at him now, sitting across the table from me, I'd have to say that I was right.

"Damn, it's good to see you. How you been, El?" Todd asks.

"Fine. How about yourselves?"

"Doin' good, doin' good."

"Yep. Doin' good," Hank adds.

"You're lookin' good, El."

"Thanks," I reply. "I'm actually just waiting for an order. It should be up here?—"

Todd leans across the table and gives me that unctuous leer I remember all too well. "Say, why don't you swing by the lake house tonight? Let's catch up, huh?"

"Sorry, I'm taking care of my grandmother."

"Oh, c'mon, El. She'll let you out for a couple of hours."

I shake my head. It seems like no matter how much time has gone by, some things never change. Death, taxes, and Todd Yelkin trying to get into my pants are just about the only certainties in life. Todd's eyes bore into mine, his expression serious. Hank has a twisted smirk and an expression on his face that scares me.

"Thanks, but I'm going to pass, Todd."

He reaches across the table and takes my hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "C'mon, El. We're all grown up now. Let's not play the stuck-up high school girl?—"

"Let go of my hand, Todd."

He doesn't let go. He tightens his grip, making it almost painful. I wince and try to pull my hand back but can't break away. My nostrils flare, my heart racing, and time around me slows to a crawl. I pull again but still can't break his grip on my hand. I glance around quickly, searching for somebody who might be seeing what's happening, but the customers in the diner are all engaged in their own conversations and aren't paying attention. Panic starts to set in, sending my pulse into the stratosphere.

"Todd, I said let go of me!"

"Why are you bein' like this, El? We're friends, right?" he responds. "Let's go on out to the lake house and catch up like old friends."

"Let go of my hand!"

Todd grins salaciously. "Don't be like that, baby."

"She told you to let go of her hand."

Dr. Collier, as if appearing out of nowhere, is suddenly standing beside our table. I've been so preoccupied with the situation, I didn't even hear the bells over the door jingling. Todd lets go of my hand and leans back in his chair, casually throwing his arm over the back of it, and stares at the doctor with a crooked smirk on his face. Todd is doing his best to seem unaffected, but I can see just how much Dr. Collier intimidates him. I can't really blame him either.

The doctor's eyes are narrow, his jaw is clenched, and he looms menacingly over Todd and Hank. There's a dark, stony expression on the doctor's face that would strike fear into any sane person's heart. This is a completely different side to the man than I met at Mam's house just the other day. Even though he's a doctor—a healer—he looks like a man who can put a serious ass whooping on a punk like Todd despite being twenty years his senior.

As I watch him square off with Todd and see this other side of him, I'm growing impossibly wet. I'm embarrassed and ashamed to be having such a perverse, sexual reaction to this situation. It's wrong on so many levels. I know it is. But seeing this gruff, tough side of Dr. Collier is sexy as hell, and it soaks my panties completely through.

"This ain't your business, pops," Todd says.

"I'm making it my business."

"She's an old friend of mine. We were just catching up," Todd explains.

"The way you were holding her wrist and not letting her go when she asked makes me think she's not really a friend of yours."

"We were just playin', pops."

Collier turns to me, his eyes flinty, his expression hard. "Are you all right?"

"I just told you she's fine," Todd snaps. "Now move along. I'm trying to catch up with a very old, very dear friend. So, how about you leave us to it?"

"That true, Elodie? Are you catching up with an old friend? Or is this man bothering you?" Collier asks, his tone as stony as his expression.

Todd gets to his feet and stands in front of Dr. Collier. He's not a small man, but standing there in front of the doctor, Todd looks like a child. The dining room around us grows silent, and there's a faint crackle of anticipation in the air as people gawk, wondering if they're going to see a fight and bloodshed since there's nothing people love more than a little drama with their meals. Fucking ghouls. Intimidated or not, Todd knows if he backs down, he'll lose face. And if there's one thing he hates more than me turning him down, it's being made to seem weak.

"Why don't you fuck off? This ain't your concern," Todd says.

"I'm not the type to stand by and watch a lady be assaulted. So, you have two choices," Dr. Collier growls. "One, you and your friend either turn around and get the fuck out of here."

"And two?" Todd sneers.

"Two, I knock you both the fuck out. Your choice. But you've got until I count to three to decide. Ready?"

"Fuck off, old man."

"One."

Todd's eyes flit around the dining room, no doubt counting the people and wondering how badly his reputation is going to be damaged if he walks away as he decides what to do.

"Two."

Todd trembles, an expression of fear bordering on panic flashing through his eyes. He's a bully. He targets people smaller and weaker than he is. He's not used to people standing up to him, let alone somebody as physically imposing as Dr. Collier.

"Three—"

Todd breaks into a toothy smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Like everything else about the man, it's all for show. He pats Dr. Collier on the shoulder and winks at him.

"I'm just messin' with you, pops. Just havin' a little fun at your expense," he says. "Settle down, man. Jesus. No need to take things so seriously."

Dr. Collier stares at him blankly, his face looking like it was carved from stone. He's completely unmoved by Todd's attempt at lightening the mood. Doing his best to convey just how relaxed and unintimidated he is, Todd clears his throat and then turns to Hank.

"Let's bounce," he says.

Hank gets up and they both glower at me and Dr. Collier as they walk out of the diner. I hear a little grumbling around us, people disappointed they didn't get the show to go along with their lunch. I glance at the doctor, my panties uncomfortably wet and sticking to me. My heart is still racing, and for the first time in my life, I actually find myself wanting to have sex with somebody. It's a horrible thought, but watching him step in like that has me so hot, I wouldn't say no if Dr. Collier bent me over this table and had his way with me.

"Are you all right, Elodie?" he asks in that deep, rumbling voice.

Other than being soaking wet and hornier than I've ever been in my entire life, sure.

"Yeah," I say meekly. "I'm fine. Thank you. And thank you for stepping in like that."

He shrugs. "I don't like bullies. And I don't like guys like Todd Yelkin who think they're entitled to whatever they want from whomever they want."

"I see you're familiar with him."

"Unfortunately, so. Guy's a punk."

"Yes. Yes, he is," I say. "Has been since he was a kid."

"Hey, Doc, be with you in just a sec," Billy beams as he steps out of the kitchen and holds a bag up. "Elodie, your order's up."

"Lunch for your grandmother?" Dr. Collier asks as he raises an eyebrow.

"Billy made something healthy for her," I say with a laugh.

"Grilled chicken breast omelet," he confirms. "Nothing fried, Doc. I promise."

Collier smiles and his face transforms instantly. It makes him appear almost boyish. And although the stone-faced man who was about to tear Todd's head off his shoulders got me soaking wet, the bright, boyish Dr. Collier is yet another facet of the man I'm seeing for the first time, and I find it just as hot. At this rate, I'm going to have to wring out my panties like a wet rag when I get home.

"Well, I'll let you get home," Dr. Collier says. "Tell your grandmother I said hello and I'll check in with her soon."

"I will," I reply. "And again, thank you. Sincerely."

His eyes meet mine, and it sends a quiver straight through my heart that runs down into my pussy. His eyes linger on mine for a long moment and that quiver intensifies. If I don't get out of there soon, I may come just standing there looking at him.

"Anytime," he finally says.

"I'll … yeah … I'll talk to you soon."

Clutching the bag of food to my chest, I rush out of the diner, all but certain Dr. Collier knows how close he got to making me come just by looking at me. It's mortifying. And yet, I'm almost certain I saw a glimmer in his eye that told me he knew it and he liked it.