Page 31 of Slow Burn
He had to look away, heat crawling through his blood. “Speaking of Ma,” he muttered, shifting gears. “She wants you to come for supper tomorrow night.”
Color bloomed in her cheeks. “Is that wise? Isn’t your dad mad at me?”
Cole snorted. “Pop doesn’t get mad at anybody but me.”
She gave him a look—half doubt, half pity.
“If Ma invited you, there’s no bad blood.”
“Alright,” Jocelyn said, voice quiet. “I’ll come.”
Relief cut through him, easing tension he hadn’t realized was wound so tight. If she’d said no, it would’ve felt too much like she was turning him down, not his mama.
“I’ll pick you up at the hotel on my way. Six-thirty?”
“Sounds fine.”
Mercy, the look she gave him curled in his belly.
But the moment broke sharp when Jocelyn went stiff, attention going to the door. He turned to see that Natasha Abbott had walked in. Her steps faltered when she spotted Jocelyn in the booth with him.
When he turned back, Jocelyn’s eyes were wide, searching the room like she was trapped. He knew that look too well—the need to escape before the past cornered you.
“There’s a door to the alley back there,” he said low, nodding toward the bar.
thirteen
“Some women fear the fire. Some women simply become it.” - R.H. Sin
Jocelyn’s whole body tensed at Cole’s words. He tipped his head toward the swinging door she’d seen him and other servers disappear through. Apparently, it led to more than just the kitchen.
“Natasha isn’t like her family.” He leaned forward, pushing out of his seat. “Might want to give her a shot.”
She watched him stand. He didn’t act like he was going to sit again, and panic clawed at her belly that he was about to abandon her to her sister. Natasha had been pleasant the day before, but Jocelyn’s interaction with Lydia left a stamp of fear that she’d read her wrong—that she was about to experience a betrayal of memory. The familiar ache of being misunderstood settled in her chest like an old companion.
“Didn’t ask for my two cents, I know.” Leaning down, Cole placed his hands on the table. “But I think you’ll be surprised.”
“Wait,” she said, grabbing his wrist as he pushed away before she could think better of it.
He pried her hand off but held it warm and tight, and in a move that shocked her out of her panic, pressed it to his lips. “You’ll be fine, Darlin’. Promise.”
Her mouth fell open for a moment before Natasha reached them, like some unseen tether had pulled her across the restaurant. Jocelyn’s attempt at a smile didn’t feel successful—probably because she was still reeling from Cole’s gesture, analyzing every nuance of what it might mean.
“Hey there, Cole,” Natasha said warmly.
“Hey, Tash,” he replied with a gentle smile. “Get you something?”
Natasha glanced at Jocelyn, uncertain. The panic in her face matched what raged in Jocelyn’s gut. Then she looked at the sing-o card left where he’d been. “Am I takin’ your seat?”
“Gotta make the rounds. Help yourself.”
Natasha looked again at Jocelyn, who only shrugged and scooted her empty milkshake to the side. Even that small movement made her feel like she was giving up more ground than she wanted to.
“Can I get the hangover burger?” Natasha asked as she sat.
Cole nodded then looked at Jocelyn for her order.
Jocelyn couldn’t imagine stomaching much. “Fries.”
