Page 31 of Lavender and Lust

He hasn’t looked at me since. And as I tie the strings to my apron around my waist, the silence penetrating through the kitchen right now is so incredibly awkward that I feel like the temperature in the room has been cranked up a hundred degrees hotter.

Wyatt’s eyes ping-pong between us before landing on mine and he frowns in question, and I give him an evasive shrug in response. By the perplexed look on Wyatt’s face, I’m guessing Owen hasn’t told him about what’s happened between us. Which is surprising. Those two have been thick as thieves for as long as I can remember.

Glancing at the serving window, I notice a train of customers flooding through the entrance and scouring the dining room for a place to sit.

The morning rush has only just begun, and as much as I would love to pull Owen aside and somehow make things right, now really isn’t the time.

Securing the knot for my apron in place, I glance at Owen one last time before making my way over the double doors and entering the dining area.

“Morning, Mackenzie,” Charlotte greets me with a bright smile as she grabs the coffeepot from the machine.

“Hey, Charlotte,” I say, forcing a smile while collecting my order pad and pen, then stopping out of habit to check my apron pocket for ketchup. My heart slowly sinks at the sight of the clean, stain-free fabric before me.

I’d never thought there would come a time when I would want to see my pocket full of that slimy red sludge. And the realization that I probably never will see it again suddenly makes that void in my chest feel like it’s expanding to the point that it could swallow me whole.

Inhaling deeply through my nose, I actively pull myself together and turn my attention to Charlotte, desperately needing to throw myself into work so that it will take my mind off everything for a while. “Where should I start?”

Over the last few hours,I’ve felt like I’ve been running on autopilot. I’ve taken orders, delivered meals, and smiled when necessary. But I’ve never felt so disconnected from the people around me as I do right now. I’m literally just going through the motions and nothing more.

Owen has been polite and professional, only speaking to me when necessary, and every exchange between us has been stilted.

I hate it, and for the first time ever, working with him has become unbearably awkward.

I’m ringing up a customer’s check at the till when I hear the door to the diner opening and spot Noah Campbell closing the door behind him.

Usually, the sight of him would have my heart doing backflips in my chest. But with everything that’s happened over the last few days, his arrival is making my stomach twist into a tight ball of dread.

His eyes skate around the diner, and upon landing on mine, they immediately light up. He walks toward the counter, his strides long and determined, his lips spreading into an easygoing smile, and his teeth beaming like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds on a cold, dismal day.

Biting on my bottom lip, I turn my attention back to the customer and give them their change before turning to face Noah as he steps up to the counter.

“Morning, beautiful,” he says, removing his cowboy hat and ruffling up the flattened bed of blond hair on his head, setting off a chorus of appreciative sighs from nearly every woman on the restaurant floor.

And I can’t blame them.

Noah Campbell is gorgeous.

He’s without a doubt one of Clark Falls’ most eligible bachelors, but not only that, he’s genuinely a nice guy.

His family owns a large cattle ranch just outside of town and the life of a rancher has served him well.

His broad shoulders and muscular physique are a token of the years of hard work and backbreaking labor he’s dedicated his life to in order to make his family’s legacy thrive. And there isn’t a single girl in town who wouldn’t give their right arm to be where I am right now.

“Hey, Noah,” I say, then nervously tug my bottom lip between my teeth.

“Did you get my flowers?” he asks, and I look away, feeling a pang of guilt hit my chest.

With everything that had happened over the last few days, I’d completely forgotten about the flowers he had sent me. And as beautiful as they were, I couldn’t take them home. The baby’s breath in the arrangement would have practically deemed my home an uninhabitable dwelling for me to set foot in, which is a shame because I’d never received such a beautiful bouquet in my whole life.

“Yes, I did. They were beautiful. Thank you, Noah.” I give him a genuine smile. Which he wholeheartedly deserves. Noah is a great guy, and I can’t help but feel bad that he wasted his money on me.

“I wanted to come by earlier, but we were snowed in for a few days.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Happens every winter. It’s no big deal.” He shrugs.

“So… uh, look,” he says, raking his fingers through his hair nervously and glancing around, noticing that we seem to have garnered the attention of several diners who are within earshot.

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