me Riley,” he said, putting out his hand to shake hers. “I like it a whole lot better than moron.”
* * *
Riley McKenna. The man had clearly been put on this earth—and in this diner—to drive her nuts. Stace had to stay on top of him for the entire lunch wave, which only complicated her job. He couldn’t take an order, couldn’t remember the menus, didn’t know where anything was, and delivered the wrong food to the wrong table five times.
Not to mention he moved like a turtle on Valium.
He’d told her to let him help her, and she now regretted agreeing.
Worst of all, he kept attracting her attention. Tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed, the kind of guy that wore a smile like it was cologne. He had on dark wash jeans and a golf shirt, with boat shoes, even though she doubted he had been heading for a boat today. She had to force herself more than once to concentrate on her job, instead of on him.
When the lunch demand eased, Stace slipped into the kitchen. “What were you thinking?” she said.
Frank put a finger to his temples. “Uh, that my salsa dancing days are behind me, but I can still cut a mean foxtrot.”
She laughed. “You are a pain in my butt.”
“I know, and you love me for it.” Frank grinned, then wrapped an arm around Stace’s shoulders.
She leaned into his embrace. Frank’s thick arms and broad chest enveloped her like a teddy bear. She’d known Frank all her life, and even though he’d told her a thousand times that she could get a better job than waitressing for him, she stayed. Not because she loved waitressing so much, but because she loved Frank and loved the Morning Glory. Frank hadn’t just been her father’s best friend, he’d been her father, too, in every way but biology, and she couldn’t imagine not seeing his familiar craggy face every day. Or this diner, which held so many of Stace’s memories in this one small building. “Thanks for keeping me sane, Frank.”
“Anytime.” His voice was gruff. He turned to the sink to wash his hands before he got back to work slicing tomatoes. “How’s the new guy working out?”
“Terrible. He can’t take orders, can’t deliver food to the right tables, can’t pour coffee without scalding someone.”
Frank chuckled. “He’ll learn.”
“Why on earth would you hire him? He has no experience, no customer service skills and no—”
“Job. The guy needed a job.” Frank shrugged. “So I gave him one.”
Stace eyed her boss and friend. “You don’t take pity on people like that. You’re usually harder on the staff than I am. What’s up?”
Frank paused and put the knife down. The blade seemed small next to his beefy palms. “Riley’s been coming in here for a long time.”
“Years.”
“And he’s been a bit of a pain.”
“A bit? The man is an incorrigible flirt. And he’s always asking for some custom thing or another.”
“But at heart, he’s a good guy.”
“How do you know that?”
Frank considered her for a moment. “I just know. I’ll let you figure that out for yourself. You’ll see what I see.”
She snorted. “I doubt it.”
“Just have an open heart,” Frank said. “You’re a sweet girl, Stace, but your heart is closed off. Hell, you have a big old detour sign outside it.”
“I have reasons why,” she said softly.
“Don’t you think it’s past time you opened that road again?”
She glanced out the window, at the busy city that had once seemed to hold such promise, but then one day had stolen her biggest dream, and shook her head. Some days, being at the Morning Glory was so painful, she wasn’t sure she could stay another minute. Other days, she couldn’t imagine ever leaving. “Not now.”
Maybe not ever.
She had her priorities now—a nephew who had been abandoned by his mother—and that meant she didn’t have time or need for a relationship. It wasn’t about not wanting to take that risk again—
Okay, maybe it was.
Either way, she didn’t have time. Or room for a handsome, distracting man.
She pivoted toward the counter, took the two BLTs Frank had finished assembling, and hurried out of the kitchen, before the man who knew her better than anyone in the world could read the truth in her eyes.
That Stace wasn’t so sure she had enough heart left to ever risk it again.
CHAPTER THREE
THIRTY minutes into the lunch rush, things fell apart. Riley had gone into the whole waiter job with a cocky, self-assured attitude, thinking this job, while busy, was relatively straightforward. Not easy, not once there was more than one table to juggle, but at least relatively manageable. More or less.
Then he’d been assigned Table Seven.
Stace had left him to his own devices. She’d hovered over him for the first couple of tables, but then the diner filled with customers, and she’d been too busy to supervise. “If you need something, don’t be stubborn. Ask me,” she’d said.
“I did. You turned me down.”
She let out a gust. “Get your own orders, your own coffees. I’m not your personal servant.”
He had asked her a few times to retrieve things for him. He’d thought she wanted to help him, not throw him into shark-infested waters without so much as a lifejacket. “I didn’t—”
“You did. Treat this like a real job and we’ll get along a whole lot better. And most of all, don’t be an idiot.”
He grinned at her. “You like me. Admit it.”
“I despise you. Face it.” But a smile played on her lips for a split second, before she spun on her heel and headed over to take care of two couples that came in and sat at one of the square tables. A four-top or something, she’d called it.
He watched her go, wondering why he cared that this one woman liked him. Riley McKenna had dated a lot of women. Proposed a few times, then found a way to wriggle out of the impulsive question. Though he entertained the idea from time to time, at his core, he wasn’t much for settling down. He’d seen the American Dream at play in only a handful of the people in his life, and to Riley, that meant the odds that he could have the same were between slim and none.
Boston was an ocean with a whole lot of female fish to choose from, and yet, he found himself trying to make Stace smile. Trying to catch her eye. Trying to impress her with his skills. And failing miserably. He’d watched the diner’s activity rise and fall, along with her irritation level, and wondered if
