Page 34 of Carly's Heart

Right?

She was not thinking about Birch and babies. Not together. No way. That horse had already bolted.










♥ Chapter Sixteen ♥

Tuesday morning, Carly was back at work. She loved the morning shift. Layla was an early riser which meant they had a bit of time together before she clocked in at seven. She was off at three, just as her daughter finished quiet time at the sitter’s. For Carly, it was an almost perfect schedule. She only worked part-time, Mondays to Thursdays, with Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off every week. It was a great balance of work and home life and left plenty of time for volunteer accounting and cookie baking.

With Tanya on her honeymoon for the next two weeks, they were down one waitress and she’d be picking up extra shifts. It would be busy. Hank’s Diner was the breakfast hot spot in Elk Valley. Lunch would be busy, but not as bad as breakfast, because there were two other great lunch spots, and a sub shop.

Her boss was unlocking the door when she arrived. She stepped inside, happy to be out of the morning chill. It might be late spring, but mornings were still pretty frigid. Happiness flooded her soul. She loved this place with its gleaming white floors, and black tables and chairs. Neon green accents made the diner sunny and bright. The colors shouldn’t work together, but somehow, they did. Aside from being with Layla, this was her happy place. She tried hard not to think about how much pleasure she found in Birch’s company.

She breathed deeply, loving the smell of fresh coffee, bacon, and cinnamon buns.

The first words out of Hank’s mouth were, “I didn’t see you at the wedding.”

“There was a mix-up and I ended up as chief babysitter.” She didn’t really want to get into it with him so she added, “Anything to make my bestie’s wedding perfect. It was an honor to help out.” She explained what happened.

Hank, a crusty sixty-five-year-old, laughed. “Oh, honey. Your soft heart let you get taken advantage of.” He patted her on the back. “You’re a good person, Carly. Sometimes too good, and I’m blessed to have you working for me.” He paused. “I hate to be another person taking advantage of you, but Cookie’s out sick today. You’ll have to run the register, if that’s okay. If not, I’ll call in the Mrs.” Hank’s wife walked with a cane. A day on her feet would be agony. She’d come gladly, but Carly knew they’d manage fine without her.

“No worries, boss. I’ve got your back.” They all took turns at the register, but this potentially busy day got worse because if Hank was cooking, she’d be taking on his tasks. “I’ll just warn everyone that you’re cooking, and they’ll all leave.”

It was a running joke that Hank couldn’t cook. The truth was, he was an amazing cook, he just preferred to talk to the customers. Cookie on the other hand was a stellar cook who disliked dealing with people. After an epic motorcycle crash, the thirty-nine-year-old tattooed veteran retired from service. Cookie was a true introvert, the exact opposite of Hank. Their roles suited them. Hank in the front, Cookie in the back. Hank occasionally worked in the back, but Cookie never worked out front.

“Mind your sass, or I’ll fire you.” Laughing at his own joke, he headed for the kitchen.

She hung her jacket in the staff closet beside Hank’s tiny office and slipped her wallet and keys in the staff lockbox under the register. She barely had a fresh pot of coffee ready when the door chimed, heralding a customer. Pot in hand, she spun around to greet them with a smile.

Her smile dropped off her face when she saw Birch standing hesitantly in the doorway. Nothing like piling it on. Thanks for nothing, Universe. I’m not ready for this. Snug jeans cradled his thighs like a lover. His black leather jacket was as sexy as hell. His dark brown cowboy hat was pulled low, concealing his eyes. He carried something slung over his shoulder. He looked incredible. And sad.

Her heart wept because she’d put that gloom there.

“Good morning, Birch. Did you want a menu?” She forced herself to smile and judging by the look on his, he wasn’t fooled for a second.

“Yes, please. Is it okay if I sit over there?” He gestured to a table near the back.

“Wherever you like, as always.” The diner wasn’t a wait to be seated type of place. She didn’t understand why he asked, unless it was his subtle way of asking if it was okay to be there.