Last Chance At The Someday Café. Angel Smits

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      As he hustled across the parking lot, Morgan thought about his brother doing the majority of the office work. Morgan tried to step up and do his own work when he could, but his mind was elsewhere.

      In this weather, there wouldn’t be many people out anyway. Even Sylvie was smart enough to get in out of the rain. He glanced down the street toward the park. At least, he hoped so. The idea of Brooke out in this made him shiver.

      Maybe the woman from the T-shirt booth would call him today. He’d gladly stop by the booth again, but what good would that do? Frustration made him edgy. He kept walking to burn off energy.

      He could go back and talk to Tara. Maybe she had more info about Sylvie from her application? An address maybe? But then she’d wonder why he needed it. Friends kept in contact.

      He wasn’t going to explain to anyone here about Sylvie. He couldn’t risk it. He’d trusted before and been betrayed when they’d tipped Sylvie off. She’d run, and he’d had to start his search all over. He wasn’t sure he could go through that again.

      He certainly couldn’t afford to.

      Inside the cab, Morgan booted up his laptop and used the diner’s Wi-Fi to get online. He had nearly a hundred emails to get through; instead, he did a quick search that resulted in nothing. Who was that guy at the T-shirt stand? There was something there. He just didn’t know what it was.

      Rubbing his eyes in tired frustration, Morgan sat back on the bunk, pulling the laptop with him.

      The article about last year’s fire still stuck in his mind. Curious, he did another search. The Someday Café had a fairly good internet presence. The pretty owner, Tara, had paid decent money for the website. Hmm...they had takeout. He’d have to remember that.

      Might be safer than sitting at that counter watching her move around...

      There were promo photos of the diner, one of her in full chef regalia. She smiled at the camera, stirring a big pot in an obviously posed photo. A pretty picture.

      Who was she? Really?

      She hadn’t grown up in Haskins Corners, but a good chunk of the inhabitants knew her. He stumbled across an article from a small, regional culinary magazine. It referred to the fire and talked about how the volunteers had created meals for the fire crews in a school kitchen.

      There, in the middle of the group, laughing in pure abandon was Tara Hawkins. She wasn’t dressed to cook, but in shorts and a tank top that left her arms and legs bare. Tanned and bare.

      He liked the way she looked in this picture. At the diner, she’d looked pretty but stressed. In this picture, her hair hung loose and wavy past her shoulders. Not pulled tight against her scalp.

      Reading on, he found her connection to this community. Her brother owned a ranch nearby. Had it been damaged in the fire? That wasn’t the focus of the article, so Morgan didn’t learn any more. If nothing else, it made him more curious about her.

      His phone rang then, and after saving the picture to his hard drive, he answered.

      “Any luck?” Jack didn’t bother with the niceties.

      Neither did Morgan as he explained yesterday’s events. “Nothing great. I did find a place where she applied for a job. They didn’t hire her.”

      “Damn. That would’ve made life easier.”

      “Yeah.”

      “What next?”

      “I’m going to stick around for a couple days. But I gotta look like I’m here for a reason. Anything local I can do?” If he could do short hauls in the area, maybe that would buy him more time.

      “I can see. I’ll call if I find anything.” The sound of rustling papers came through the line. “Anyplace else she might have applied for a job?”

      “There’s not much here. Retail. The diner. That’s about all she’s qualified for.” He tried to envision the small town in his mind. “Maybe a couple of bars.”

      “Check ’em out.” Jack’s voice was tinny all of a sudden.

      “Did you put me on speaker?” Morgan hated not knowing who could hear him.

      “Yeah.” Jack laughed. “One-handed typing sucks, so get over it, bro. I need your help with these numbers.”

      For the next few hours, they worked on financials and tried to figure out budgets for the next six months. The places Morgan was going to check would be open well into the night, so he could afford to give Jack the time.

      The rain was relenting and letting the clouds temporarily part when he finally stumbled out of the cab. He needed to find something to eat before he continued his search. Morgan thought about going to the diner, but besides the distraction it would prove, he did need to look elsewhere. While the sidewalks in this town practically rolled up at night, there were a couple bars.

      Sylvie had been a party girl when they’d met, and settling down hadn’t agreed with her. Was she back to her old habits?

      He’d just rounded the corner when the wind picked up and raindrops fell again. With a muttered curse, Morgan turned up his collar as he headed toward the flashing neon lights.

      Suddenly, something—someone—plowed into him. He found his arms full of soft, damp, sweet-smelling woman.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      TARA GASPED, STRUGGLING not to drop everything in her arms. No such luck, as her purse and groceries tumbled to the ground. She didn’t suffer a similar fate only because Morgan caught her.

      Morgan.

      “You okay?” His voice was deep, his arms warm, solid bands through her jacket. His breath brushed her cheek and she wasn’t sure how long his gaze held hers.

      “Uh, yeah.” She hastily pulled away once her brain kicked into gear. Cold replaced the warmth of his arms. Trying not to look at him or think about how close they were, she bent to gather her groceries. They’d scattered clear across the wet sidewalk. One of the plastic bags had torn.

      “Let me help.” Morgan crouched beside her, and Tara couldn’t help noticing his thick, muscular thighs right there in front of her—or the enticing curve of his biceps as he easily took on the weight of the canned goods. What items she could grab, she shoved into the remaining bag before facing him again.

      His arms were full of her groceries. And he was smiling at her. Damn. She’d wondered earlier what that smile would do to her. Now she knew. Her stomach did one of those annoying little backflips. Karma was a bitch. Hastily, she reached for the last few items and shot to her feet, berating herself for letting him distract her. She’d sworn she wouldn’t let that happen again.

      When she’d bought the diner, she’d also found a sweet little apartment within walking distance of both work and downtown. What she hadn’t taken into consideration tonight—besides slamming into a solid, brick wall of a man coming around a corner—was weather. The fact that it had been raining on and СКАЧАТЬ