“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
Whitney’s heart about melted. He was missing his two front teeth, and the little lisp in his yes was most adorable thing she’d ever heard.
“Quite a gentleman,” she said. “Can I get you something to drink? A chocolate milk, maybe?”
When his eyes shot wide and he bounced in his chair, Whitney realized she might have made a mistake. She glanced at Lily.
“If it’s okay with your mom, that is.”
Lily just smiled and nodded. “Of course.”
“Yes!” Alex’s little fist shot in the air like he’d won the gold in the summer Olympics.
Whitney set to making the milk and squeezing the chocolate into the glass, and Alex’s eyes got even wider.
“You enjoying your break?” Whitney asked.
“Yes, I’m going to go with Uncle Colt and Aunt Jenna on the circuit soon!”
“Wow, that sounds fun.”
A small groan left Lily, and she stifled it with a sip of soda. She was obviously trying really hard to let Alex go, but two weeks to herself would be good.
“How are you?” Whitney asked quietly to Lily when Alex’s was distracted by the cartoons playing on the TV hanging in the opposite corner of the bar. “You getting excited for Alex’s trip?”
“Don’t remind me,” Lily said. “I still have time to get used to this idea. Not much. But some.”
Whitney nodded. Lily was an amazing mother. She was raising a young man and doing it while playing both parents. Whitney had never come out and asked about Alex’s dad, but from a few hints dropped here and there she’d learned that he’d been some city guy that left as soon as Lily found out she was pregnant.
“It’s pretty dead in here. You can take off early if you want,” Penny said, coming from the kitchen to stand by Whitney. She gave Lily a half hug across the counter.
“Hey, Aunt Penny!” Alex said, his eyes back on Whitney, now pouring milk and stirring his cup.
“Hey, kiddo. I see Whitney is fixing you up right.”
Alex took the glass of milk. Now that Whitney looked at it, it looked more black than light brown. Maybe she’d used too much chocolate. But Alex sighed, a milk mustache over his top lip, and said, “Best. Milk. Ever.”
She smiled, the compliment making her feel beyond wanted.
“You have to work here forever,” Alex said.
That made her eyebrows rise and her throat close. Between Alex’s toothless smile, and now Penny and Lily beaming at her, she didn’t have the heart to remind all of them that forever wasn’t in the cards for her.
“I’ll come see you every day,” Alex said, and took another drink.
“I’d like that,” Whitney said, leaving out the “for as long as I’m here” part.
“Looks like you have another man crushing on you,” Penny said with a nudge. Alex was just smiling at her and enjoying his drink.
Whitney was about to say that she could stay a little longer when the bell on the front door rang, and in walked Ryder Diamond in all his handsome glory. Only instead of sporting the usual dusty T-shirt and tool belt, he looked freshly showered. He was wearing dark blue jeans, a white button-down, and a Stetson that made him look like the sexiest cowboy she’d ever seen.
Excitement overtook her. She walked around the counter and straight for him, then stopped dead in her tracks. What the hell was she doing? She was acting like he’d come to see her. Like she had a right to just waltz on over and hug him—maybe kiss him—in front everyone, like he was her boyfriend or something.
Except he wasn’t.
And she wasn’t anything to him other than a cordial, platonic date. Right? That’s what he wanted. And she just wanted sex, not romance. So there could be no public displays of affection, because that didn’t fit into either of their end games. Just like working at the BBQ long-term, or making friends with anyone, wasn’t smart.
His eyes remained on her and turned hard when he registered her stiff stature. He took a step toward her, then was cut off by the melon-hating woman Whitney had met her second night on the job. What was her name? Clara. That was it. Clara.
She heard the woman talk about the Davenport Hall, and while Ryder’s mouth moved in response, his eyes stayed on Whitney. But she couldn’t stick around. Not after what she’d almost done. Not with all these weird emotions flying through her.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said to Penny, taking her up on her offer to clock out a bit early. She passed the bar and headed in the opposite direction of Ryder and out the back. Funny how this whole thing had started with Ryder wanting space, and now it was her running in the other direction.
That stubborn woman had just turned her back on him and taken off.
Ryder’s temper was boiling beneath the surface. He’d seen the look in Whitney’s eyes when she’d headed for him. He was shocked as hell that she’d appeared ready to jump into his arms—and even more shocked that he wanted her to, even if they were in the middle of the BBQ. Then that hope was stomped out when she looked like her feet had been glued to the floor, and Clara swooped in chatting about the event again.
He was only hearing every other word, because he was too busy watching where Whitney had just left. Out the back.
“…all the paint will be dry?” Clara asked. Ryder only heard the last part of her question.
“Yes, the painters are heading in tomorrow, and it all should be done for the weekend event.” It was coming up in less than a week. Come Saturday night, all his crew’s hard work would be on display, and one of the town’s most treasured buildings would be reopened.
“Excellent!” Clara said. “I’m just so happy you’re finished. Now you have time for more sociable encounters.”
She looked him over like a prize, one she’d had her sights on, and Ryder tried to find his good manners to get out of this conversation. Because yes, the last week had been a bear finishing that building, but he was finally done. He had an early meeting with Davenport the next day. Otherwise, all that was left to do was monitor the final touches. That was why tonight he’d come straight to the place, and woman, he’d been dying to see.
And she’d just run off.
He didn’t want to talk about the event. Didn’t want to think about the Hall. For months his life had revolved around it. Hell, his life revolved around the town on a regular basis. Tonight he just wanted Whitney. Wanted to be alone with her. Talk to her. Forget who he was in public and have a private moment between the two of them.
“Why don’t you join me for dinner and we can discuss the weekend?” Clara said.
Ryder’s eyes snapped to her. “I already have plans.”
He should have accompanied that with an apology, but he wasn’t sorry. He wanted to see Whitney, and he wouldn’t apologize or explain.
He let Clara pout and tossed a wave to his sister. Penny looked confused, but she waved back.
He marched out the door and to his truck in record time. Barreling toward the lodge, he realized quickly he didn’t know what room Whitney was in, but he’d start with the bar where he’d first met her.
The main entrance was empty, just like the entire lounge and bar area. Even the counter of the bar, near the billiards room, had a “Return in an hour” sign up. Dead. The entire place was dead. But through the corridor, he heard the faint sound of one pool ball hitting another and a side pocket shot sinking.
Adrenaline raced through him, but he reached for his coolest composure and entered the poolroom. There, like his blessed dreams, was Whitney, bending over and lining up her next shot.
Those shorts of hers were his favorite thing on the planet, and he took a long moment to appreciate then.
“Damn it,” she muttered, when she missed her shot.
“You know what I was thinking the first night I saw you in here?” he asked.