Page 55 of Love & Rockets

Rolling her eyes as if the answer should have been obvious, Zelda Jo began loading a tray. “There’s no way in Hades a fella like Jake Dalton is gonna hook himself up with some woman who doesn’t eat meat. It isn’t natural,” she added, as if she’d provided all the explanation needed.

“True,” Bubba confirmed.

Both amused and oddly comforted by her friends’ assessment, Darla tore the to-go order from her pad, clipped the slip to Bubba’s ticket holder, then pressed a kiss to the cook’s grizzled cheek. With a pitcher of tea in hand, she reloaded her apron pocket with packaged towelettes, then paused beside Zelda Jo.

When the older woman glanced up from her work, Darla looked her dead in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, sugar.” Zelda jerked her chin toward the dining room. “Now get out there and let the boy see what he’s missing.”

Darla flashed a wan smile. “I’m not sure he’s missing anything.”

Zelda snorted. “Just friends, my patoot. If you think any man is going to choose Miley Cyrus over Mila Kunis, you’re nuts.”

“Mila Kunis?”

“The girl who married Demi Moore’s boy-toy,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“So, you do keep current,” Darla accused with a grin.

Zelda Jo wrinkled her nose. “I’d use them more, but frankly, I don’t think they’re as interesting as movie stars used to be. What I wouldn’t give for that Burt Reynolds marrying Sally Field rumor to be true.”

“Maybe they will,” Darla said with a shrug. “Keep the faith.”

For her part, she tried to keep her eyes glued to her half of the dining room as she made her rounds. Thankfully, her empty tables were now filled with guys from Cade Construction. Darla waved an acknowledgement, only to be greeted by a long, loud wolf whistle from one young guy she didn’t recognize. Palming the plastic pitcher, she narrowed a practiced stink eye on the guy as she approached.

To her satisfaction, a tomato-red blush crept higher on the boy’s neck with each step. When she drew to a stop, the bubble of tension dissipated when the men at the adjoining tables burst into raucous laughter. Darla chuckled and gave her head a pitying shake. “Boys, boys,” she tsked. “Didn’t any of y’all explain to junior the rules on tipping?”

“Aw, now, Darla, we were only tryin’ to help you out,” Mat Cabrera crooned, flashing even white teeth. “We figured you could use a little extra, bein’ a single mom and all, and Mikey here just got his first paycheck.” He slapped the kid on the back so hard he nearly folded over the table. “Right, Mikey?”

The boy gaped at her for a second, then swallowed hard, his face turning another full shade darker. “You’re a mom?”

“Why, yes, I am. And every time a man is rude or ungentlemanly to me, Mr. Beau allows me to add a thirty percent tip to his tab.” She tilted her head and gave him her sweetest smile. “My baby and I thank you for helping keep us in Pampers.”

Both tables exploded into gales of laughter again, and Darla let her smile morph into a grin. Feeling more in control than she had in weeks, she darted a glance at Jake’s table. He was watching. Good.

“Okay, okay, now you’ve had your fun at poor Mikey’s expense,” she called over the crew’s joking and jockeying, “is there anyone here not drinking sweet tea?” A single hand went up and she nodded to the burly guy wedged into the seat against the wall. “You want water with lemon, Marlon? I’ve got you.” She nodded and took a quick head count. “Back in a sec. Y’all help Mikey count up his quarters. Momma has laundry to do tonight, and I’d appreciate not having to stop for change.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jake’s date leaning in, but she didn’t look back at him. She didn’t dare. She could feel the heat of his stare on the back of her neck. For the first time in years, she wished she hadn’t cut off her hair. If it were long, she could use it as a shield. A curtain. She’d never been one to run from a problem, but now, this once, she wished she could hide. She needed a little camouflage. Only until the throbbing ache in her chest eased. But she didn’t have a sleek fall of shampoo commercial hair. Unlike Jake’s friend. When she wore her hair long, it was as wild and unmanageable as Grace’s.

The image of Jake tucking his chin to his chest and lowering his head to look past Gracie’s hair and directly at her as he spoke tugged at her. And being the weak-willed hair-coveting sucker she was, she stole a glance.

Mistake.

Big mistake, because she wasn’t wrong.

For one heart-hammering moment their eyes met and held. Light glinted off his glasses. His lips parted as if he had something to say and they didn’t have a blonde, the lunch rush, and a million other things between them. Before she could draw a breath, that kissable mouth closed, thinned into a grim line, and he turned his attention back to his companion.

Darla ran the last few steps into the kitchen. Her skin felt thin and stretched taut, as if there were too little of it to contain everything she wanted so desperately to keep bottled up. Bubba moved to reach for her, but she held up a hand to stop him. A crazy, irrational part of her worried she might shatter if anyone touched her. No one but Jake. Every feeling she ever had for him bubbled under the surface.

Want. Need. Yearning. Fear. Every emotion she had boiled up inside her, the pressure building like steam trapped in a tea kettle.

Love.

She tried to ignore the word, but it stayed there, reverberating inside her like the strum of her pulse. A glass of water appeared on the counter in front of her. Darla jerked her head up in time to see Bubba turning back to the tickets lined up at eye level.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I know I’m a mess. Just an off day.”

Bubba smiled and nodded, but didn’t waste any words on what they both knew was a lie. Grateful for the respite, she took a cautious sip. Ice cubes shifted and slid up to numb her lips. Cool water wet her parched throat and eased the burn in her belly. She hummed softly, grateful for the momentary relief. The pain would be back, but maybe she could hold off until she was alone.

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