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The place was about half full. Construction workers at the counter. A couple of uniformed cops at the far end who were done with their meal. A family in the corner, wrangling little kids into eating more than fruit. Two pairs of older men having breakfast.
The whole place smelled like bacon and biscuits.
“Caramel milkshake?”
She looked over her menu at Jax, remembering the first meal they’d ever shared. Years ago, back in Salt Lake City. “That’s the day I found Cabot.”
He smiled. “You like Jolene, right?”
“She doesn’t annoy me as much as I thought she might.”
“That means you love her,” he said. “Give it some time, and you won’t be able to imagine living without her.”
“Yeah, sure.”
That wasn’t too likely to happen. However, that was the crux of her worry about the people in her life. Not the cat. Kennaloved her family, and she had a lot of things now that she’d been missing. If she lost any of them, she might not be able to cope with it. She’d been utterly destroyed before when she’d lost everything.
Was it possible to survive that a second time?
Jax tugged her menu down, but the waitress wandered over. They gave their orders, and when she’d walked out of earshot, he took her menu and stacked them back between the ketchup and the window. “What are you thinking about?”
“Just stuff.”
He dumped a half-and-half into his coffee and stirred it. “The case?”
She shook her head and tugged her coffee over. “Life. Family. Loss. Grief. Cats. Milkshakes.”
“Days off are a good time for existential questions. The tricky part is taking sufficient time off that you get the chance to wrestle with them for long enough to come up with a solution.”
“Why do you have to be so smart?”
“It’s part of my charm.”
She smiled. “Yes, it is.”
He chuckled, not quite so sure of himself here with her than he probably was at work in his job as the boss of the FBI’s Phoenix office.
“Thanks for spending the day with me.” She moved her hand to the middle of the table, her palm up.
He set his in it, those strong fingers curling around hers. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you feel better, but I’d be here if you didn’t.”
“I know.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to be a burden,” Kenna said. “I want to pull my weight. Actually, more than that. I don’t just want to be sufficient. I’d rather be successful in a way that people areimpressed with you because of me.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know if that makes sense.”
“I think I know what you mean. Honestly, I feel the same way.” He squeezed her hand but didn’t let go. “I don’t think you’re wired to be dead weight in a relationship. But you don’t always have to be trying so hard to succeed that it takes everything you’ve got, and then some, just to try and not let your side down. Otherwise, you’re twisting yourself in knots or burning out. Just do what you can.”
“That’s probably another thing to wrestle with.”
“Why do you feel like you have to try so hard?” He tipped his head to the side. “It’s not so you can prove yourself to anyone. Is it?”
She shook her head.
“It’s because you survived.”
Kenna shifted in her seat. “I don’t need a therapist.”