Page 15

Carson

“ T hree! Two! One!”

The oversized, red ribbon falls ceremoniously to the ground.

“Congratulations, Carse!” Wren’s arms wrap around me in a warm hug, the sweet scent of her floral shampoo instantly grounding me.

Though it’s the last thing I ever want to do, I pull back from her. “Thanks, Tink.”

“Proud of you, bud.” Cal’s deep voice comes from my left as he slaps his palm onto my shoulder, a baby in his other arm.

“Yeah, real proud…” Wilder adds, slinging his arm over my other shoulder. “Now—where’s the food?”

I let out a sigh as I watch Wild’s dog prance excitedly around his boots. “No pets inside.”

“Oh, come on. Remington is like a nephew to you.” Wild’s trying his best to sound offended, but he knows damn well that dog isn’t coming inside my diner.

“He’s not comin’ inside, Wild.”

Several hours—and countless meals, photos, and interruptions from a certain bubbly blonde—later, I glance at the kitchen clock. We’ve officially hit closing time.

Our first day of business went off without a hitch.

Everyone who matters to me showed up today.

Cal and his family, along with Wild and Indie—they all stayed, pitched in, and kept me from losing my damn mind.

Even the manager I hired, LouAnn, held her own.

Woman’s pushing sixty and worked harder than my younger waitresses combined.

Hell, I don’t think she sat down once today.

Opening a diner in a small town was risky, but I’ve known this community practically my entire life. I knew that once word got around, people would show up. There aren’t many dining options within a thirty-mile radius, so I’m sure if I maintain my motivation, I can keep the crowd coming back.

I maxed out my budget on three waitresses (two of whom fucked up orders today) and a manager to help me get things organized. I know a successful business needs more employees than this, but given the short timeframe I was working with and the budget I had, this is where I had to start.

“I think that’s gonna about do it for tonight,” LouAnn announces, walking into the kitchen as I finish rinsing out the last pan, making a mental note to hire a dishwasher next—assuming I survive the week.

“Yeah. I think so.” I dry my hands on the towel and glance around the kitchen. “You’re good to head out,” I tell her. “I’ll wrap things up.”

“You sure?” She hesitates. “I hate to run off, but the grandbabies are comin’ over tonight, and I still gotta run by the store for dinner.” LouAnn clearly feels guilty, but I did tell her that she’d be off half an hour ago.

“Here,” I walk back to the stove. “You can take this if you want it.” Reaching out, I hand her a container of pasta.

“What?” Her eyes widen. “You can’t just give away food. You won’t stay in business that way… I’ll pay you for it.”

“Nope,” I shake my head. “Consider it a first-day bonus,” I add, placing a loaf of French bread on top.

“I don’t even have the energy to argue with you tonight,” she sighs with a huffed laugh, leaning in to inhale the bread. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this, Mr. Matthews.”

“Carson,” I correct her. “Just Carson.”

“Right. Carson. Thank you. There’s just one table out there,” she gestures toward the kitchen door, “but they’re all paid up. Just lingering.”

Ten minutes after LouAnn leaves, I walk out to the dining area to check on the stragglers. What I see stops me in my tracks.

“Wren?” says the man in the hat, facing my friend.

She nods with a practiced, uncomfortable smile. “That’s me.”

“Like a cute little bird.” His eyes trail over her petite frame as she leans against the counter. “I like it.” The man smiles at her. “Wanna get out of here, little bird?”

My eyes actually roll. Does he think this is a fucking bar?

“She’s not named after a bird, dipshit.”

The words are out before I can think better of it. The two of them turn to face me as I step out from the kitchen, walking over to Wren.

“Who’s your friend, Wren?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the tool in the pink polo and khakis.

“Oh… Uh…” She clearly doesn’t know this asshat.

“Mark,” the frat bro says, his eyes darting between us as he tries to size up our relationship.

“We just met,” Wren clarifies, tucking the blonde wave behind her ear.

“That’s right.” Douch-canoe smiles at her, making me want to vomit.

Wren shifts uncomfortably, her anxious gaze flicking from the window to me. “So, how was the first day?!”

“Wait… This is your place?” the guy asks.

“It is.” I cross my arms across my chest. “And we’re closed. So if you could,” I motion toward the door.

“Right,” he smirks, tapping the counter. “I’ll see you around, Wren.” Fuckwad winks at her.

She plasters on her fake smile and waves weakly as he exits the front door.

“Carson,” Wren scolds. “You can’t talk to customers like that. You have to stay in business.”

“If that’s the kind of customer I lose, I’ll sleep just fine.”

She rolls her eyes. “Runnin’ people out and bein’ your grumpy self isn’t the way to stay in business, Carse… Where did LouAnn go?” She glances around the now-empty diner.

“What, you don’t think I can handle people?”

“No.” She softly chuckles. “I know you can’t.”

I grin. “You never know, Tink. Sometimes I even surprise myself.”

She shakes her head, smiling.

“What are you still doin’ here anyway?” I ask. She’s literally been here all day. I thought she had left hours ago, but apparently, I was wrong, or she came back.

“I wanted to see how your day went, and I figured you’d be too busy to answer your phone. Plus,” she adds, grabbing the towel from the countertop. “Now I can help you.”

The smile she beams my way causes the beat of my heart to freeze momentarily—a thing she causes frequently.

After deciding that arguing with her is pointless, we spent the next couple of hours cleaning up and prepping for tomorrow.

“So… Front Porch Diner, huh?”

“Seemed good to me,” I shrug.

“I love it.” Her eyes dance over to me, the smile on her pink lips so mesmerizing it’s damn-near impossible to look away. Impossible to admit to myself that I’ve wanted to taste them for far too fucking long.

Eventually, I convince Wren that she can leave while I wrap up the last little bit of prep.

It’s close to midnight by the time I walk through my front door. If Wren hadn’t stayed, I’d probably still be there. If I stay as busy as I was today, I’ll need to find more than just the one additional cook I was planning to hire.

After a quick, hot shower, I fall into bed. For the first time in years, I let the feeling sink in.

I did it.

After so long feeling like I needed to have something, like I didn’t amount to anything, like I was just a waste of space like my old man, I’ve finally done it. I saved and saved, and now things are starting to move along.

Why the hell I waited so long, I’m not sure. But I’ve heard people say there’s a time for everything, and I guess this is just that time for me. And now that the feeling of accomplishment is beginning to bloom, who knows what the future may hold?

Heavy lids carry me to a deep sleep. When I wake, it feels like my eyes were only closed for two seconds. They’re heavier than before, and my brain struggles to return to reality. The buzzing phone on the nightstand beside me displays the time—2:04 a.m.

“Hello,” I answer groggily, wondering who the hell is calling me at this hour.

“Mr. Matthews?” the voice on the other end enquires.

“Yeah?” I respond, sitting up in the dark room.

“This is Chief Mitchell. There’s been a fire.”

All the air leaves my lungs. The rest of the conversation may or may not have happened. I really couldn’t say. I don’t remember hanging up. I don’t remember the drive.

All I know is I’m standing in front of a charred building, all my hopes drifting away in the smoke as the water from the hose crashes down onto the side of the diner.

It was supposed to be the last step before finally moving forward with my life, before finally feeling like I was enough. It was supposed to be the day that everything changed.

But here I am once again—just a man with nothing to offer her.