Page 28 of Her Summer Hope

She waited near the buffet with her hands clasped loosely in front of her to hide their trembling.

The first man who came in was someone she had never met. He took in all the food like a starving man and then gave her such a look of adoration that she smiled.

“Marry me,” he said, moving in on the steaks. “Or at least vow to never leave us. We were almost dead of starvation before you showed up.”

She chuckled. “I’m Madison,” she said, offering him her hand.

“John Conner, I’m Kyle’s right-hand man,” he said seriously.

“Then what does Wyatt do?” she asked.

“He’s the village idiot,” he quipped and she burst out laughing.

“Honestly, I’m surprised he isn’t here right now, trying to lure you into a closet somewhere,” John said, sneaking a mushroom after checking to make sure nobody was coming.

“Uh, he already tried that. Kyle shooed him away,” she said uncertainly.

“Good,” John said absently. “Let me know if he doesn’t let up. I know how to hide bodies.”

She smiled, feeling more at ease since she’d shown up. She liked John and his easy manner. He didn’t make her feel uncomfortable or afraid.

“So, how does this work? Do you all make up your own plates, or should I serve…”

“We’re all pretty capable when we want to be. We’ve perfected the art of walking while carrying and other advanced tasks,” he deadpanned.

She blushed. “I just didn’t know how formal it was supposed to be, or if anyone would have trouble getting their own food because…” She waved her hand to encompass the place.

“Oh, because of the wounded?” he asked and she nodded.

“Well, we’ve only got one guest right now, Aiden—his legs were blown off and he’s got some scars on his face, but he’s capable of getting his own food. Unless you’re offering?” he asked, hopefully.

She smiled. “Waitressing will cost you extra, besides, I think you guys got it handled. Let me know if you need more steak sauce or anything else,” she said, retreating to the kitchen before the rest of the guys showed up.

She felt oddly nervous and embarrassed about staying while they ate the food. She supposed it was because she’d never cooked for anyone but her family.

What if it wasn’t any good? Would Kyle pay her for the evening before kicking her out?

She cleaned up the kitchen, tense and anxious, while the dining room became raucous and full of laughter…and then…oddly silent.

She gripped a spoon in a tight fist before quickly washing it in the soapy water.

She’d eyed the contraption in the corner that Kyle claimed was a dishwasher, then decided to do the dishes by hand. She was finishing up when she felt someone looking at her.

She turned, dragging her hands out of the water and wiping them on her apron. Kyle was leaning against the doorframe, looking at her with a serious expression.

“You said you were a chef,” he said, pushing off and moving farther into the room.

Her heart dropped and she felt her breathing coming faster. This was it. He knew.

She said nothing, just waited for the yelling or the cold dismissal.

“That,” he said, pointing toward the dining room, “was a damned miracle.”

She jumped at his vehemence and then the smile that overtook his face dragged a short muffled exclamation from her. She felt like her heart was about to pound out of her chest at his nearness and his words.

“Does that mean I have the job?” she asked, hand covering her racing heart.

“Are you serious? There is no way I’d let you leave without promising to come back and feed us tomorrow,” he said, lips twitching.

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