Armand looked around the small diner he’d entered, the irony of the name—the King’s Plate—wasn’t lost on him. It was a far cry from Ruth’s place which always appeared to have been scrubbed top to bottom. The window blinds of this place were layered with grime and dead flies lined the window ledge. At least the customers seemed healthy enough so perhaps the food was better than outward appearance would lead a person to believe.
“Excuse me.” He stepped around a couple that were just leaving, some part of his mind noting the woman was looking him up and down, a predatory gleam appearing in her eye despite her advanced age.
In fact, several heads turned his direction. Having lived in Stump River for so long, he’d forgotten the effect his presence had. Back home, no one took notice of his size but, since arriving in Chicago, he’d been drawing attention everywhere he went, first at the airport, then in the hotel lobby and now here.
He sat down at the first empty table, ignoring the looks of the other customers. His senses were focused on his quarry, the waitress across the room. As soon as he’d stepped inside the building, his inner bear had known she was there. Even after all this time, he clearly recalled her scent. Lucy Chalmers was alive and well in Chicago while he’d been mourning her death, caring for her grave and feeling like his heart had been ripped out!
His bear growled its discontent and he concurred, his usually slow temper rising.
If it hadn’t been for the other people in the diner, he’d have walked right over and confronted her. Instead, he had to be satisfied with watching her, waiting for her to turn around and see him.
How would she react? Shock? Joy?
Shame over her deception? His bear suggested.
His own reaction to the news she was alive had been volatile. Lucky for her, he’d vented most of his anger on Ryne. He was calmer now, still hurt but prepared to forgive and bring her home.
Thankfully, Ryne had known where Lucy now lived and worked, Lycan Link’s web seeming to reach everywhere. Armed with those basic bits of information, he’d assured the Alpha he’d deal with any other challenges on his own.
He watched Lucy from across the room. Even after two years, her form was familiar to him. Average height, lush curves in all the right places. A scar showed on the side of her face. That was new as were the glasses she wore and the colour of her hair. It was brown rather than platinum blond. He liked it; it was natural and earthy, reminding him of the various shades found in the forest he loved to paint.
Right now, she was clearing a table, her movements lacking the fluidity he’d often witnessed in Stump River. Was she nervous? Had one of the customers upset her? A glance at the clientele revealed most were eating or talking to their table partners. Three men at a counter looked her way occasionally; were they the problem? His hands tightened, and he spent a few minutes observing them and memorizing their individual scents in case he ever had need of tracking them down.
“Hi! You’re new in the neighbourhood.” A waitress appeared at his table with a glass of water and a menu.
“I’m visiting a friend.”
“A friend? How nice.” She beamed at him. “I’ll be back with some silverware.”
As she continued on her way, he sneezed. Something in the air was tickling his nose. Was there mold in the building? He wouldn’t be surprised. Clearing his suddenly scratchy throat, he checked to see what Lucy was doing only to realize she had disappeared while he’d been talking to the waitress. She must have entered the kitchen with the dirty dishes she’d been gathering. When she came out, he’d make sure she noticed him.
“What can I get you?” A different waitress appeared in front of him, not nearly as friendly as the previous one. She was also speaking loudly to be heard over the noise that suddenly began to fill the room.
He cocked his head. “Is that bowling I hear?”
The first waitress breezed by. “Yep. Bowlerama is right next door.”
The second waitress scowled at the first before returning her attention to him. “Bowling starts this time every day. Makes it noisy as hell in here. If you don’t like it, eat somewhere else.” She turned to leave.
“No. It’s fine. A… Achoo!” He sneezed again. “Excuse me.”
“Yeah, gesundheit and all that. What do you want to eat?” She looked tired and impatient, her pencil hovering over the order pad in her hand.
“The specials of the day, what are they?” He gave her his best smile.
It didn’t work. Her attitude showed no signs of thawing.
“It’s all listed over there.” She jerked her head towards a chalkboard mounted on the wall. “You want coffee?”
“Yes. Please.” He tacked on the last word out of habit. An herbal tea would have been his preference, however he doubted such a beverage was served here. His nose twitched again. Obviously, his tolerance of city air was low.
He scanned the daily specials choosing a burger and fries.
When she came with the coffee, he was ready for her.
“You want gravy on those fries?”
“No, thank you.”
“Fine.” The waitress—he noticed her name tag said Gin—left without another word.
He took a drink of his coffee. It wasn’t bad. Maybe there was hope for the food. He cleared his throat which was still feeling scratchy and scanned the building, noting the water stains on the ceiling and the cracked tile floor. Yes, the place had seen better days and the environment was likely unhealthy to work in.
Minutes ticked by. Lucy still didn’t appear. He resisted the urge to drum his fingers and instead eased back in his seat. It felt too small for his large frame. Like most bears, he was big-boned and well-muscled, preferring large spaces and sturdy furnishings. Crowded places such as this made him feel awkward and out of place. He rubbed his neck, his shorter hair still unfamiliar. Early this morning he’d gotten his hair and beard trimmed, as per Ryne’s suggestion.
Such fussing is unnecessary, his bear had grumbled.
He’d ignored the complaint, the only concession being that his hair remained long enough to be tied back. Growing up, proper grooming had been insisted upon as they’d often had unexpected and prestigious guests dropping in, however he was the rebel in the family, much happier in his jeans, plaid shirts and ‘wild man’ look as Ryne liked to call it.
Or at least he had been. Now he was preening like a peacock trying to attract a female. Well, not exactly preening, though he was hoping to capture a mate. If she ever reappeared from the kitchen.
His meal arrived. Lucy did not.
Where is she? His bear shuffled its feet impatiently.
Beginning to worry, he raised his hand, catching the attention of the waitress.
“You have another server working here. Lucy. I’m a friend of hers and would like to speak with her.” He ended the sentence with another sneeze.
Gin looked at him suspiciously whether suspecting he was contagious with a summer cold or wondering why he was so interested in Lucy. She took a step back before replying. “I’ve never seen you around here before.”
“I flew in this morning.”
“She didn’t mention you.”
He smiled in a way that he knew made his eyes twinkle and thickened his accent. “Mon voyage – my trip—it was…unexpected.”
“Yeah. Right.” She rolled her eyes, clearly not impressed. “Well, we don’t have a Lucy, only a Louise and she went home sick.”
“Sick?” He flicked a look behind the woman still expecting to see Lucy…or rather Louise; Ryne had mentioned the name change but he couldn’t wrap his head around it. “She was here just a few minutes ago.”
Gin shrugged. “Well she’s not here now. Are you going to want dessert?”
“No, this will be fine.”
She slapped the bill down on the table. “Pay at the register when you leave.”
For a moment he sat there fuming, not due to the waitress’ rudeness but because Lucy must have noticed him and run. It was too much of a coincidence that she’d become ill the minute he appeared.
Had she left because she didn’t want to see him, or had she merely been surprised? Either way, her behaviour was out of character. Back home, she would have stalked over to the table, given the customer a piece of her mind, and then ended the scolding with a wide smile that would have left the offender bemused and doling out a larger than average tip.
He stroked his beard. Yes, it would seem she had changed, and it went deeper than glasses and hair colour.
Why had she decided to start a new life in Chicago rather than returning to him when he’d finally expressed his interest? It was a point he’d considered many times throughout the ten-hour drive to Toronto and the two-hour flight to Chicago.
As soon as he’d seen her as a young woman, he’d been drawn to her. At the time, she’d barely been old enough to work at the Broken Antler, yet he’d immediately been captivated by her smile and sunny disposition. He’d given her a job and then…then he’d waited. His bear had not been pleased but had been persuaded of the wisdom of the decision.
“A relationship needs more than instant attraction,” he’d explained to the animal. “A mate should be your friend as well as your lover.”
And so he’d set about creating a foundation for their future, inviting Lucy to join him in planting a vegetable garden behind the Broken Antler in the spring and going ice-fishing in the winter. One year, he’d taught her to drive…
“This is loose gravel, the tires have less traction! Slow down! And watch out for the potholes.” He winced as the truck bounced and swerved down the road.
She flashed a wide smile at him. “You’re a worrywart, Armand. This is fun! Like a ride at the county fair.”
“The truck fish-tailing is not fun. We aren’t in a smash-up derby!”
“Fine.” She eased off the gas.
He exhaled in relief and relaxed his grip on the arm rest. “Much better. We’re coming to a main road. You need to come to a complete stop, not a rolling one like last time.”
“You know, you aren’t this bossy at the bar.”
“At the bar you aren’t catapulting thousands of pounds of metal down a road with the potential to kill both of us.”
They turned onto the main highway which, thankfully, seldom had traffic on it. The breeze from the open windows ruffled her hair, the sun streaming in and highlighting her features. As always, her beauty caught his attention and he had to force himself to focus on the road.
“You know, Armand, this driving stuff is pretty easy.”
He nodded. “It is when there are no other cars around. Be sure to stay in your lane and watch your speed.” His eyes widened as he checked the speedometer. “The sign said 80 kilometres per hour.”
“I saw that. It’s a good suggestion.”
Suggestion? He shook his head and was about to give a lecture on speeding when he noticed her silent laughter.
“Are you enjoying making me go grey?”
She reached out and tugged a lock of his hair. “I like it just the colour it is.”
Her hand so close to his face had him catching his breath and it took a moment before he realized she was still looking at him.
“Eyes on the road. Both hands on the steering wheel!”
Yes, the driving lessons had been a hair-raising experience and surely removed years from his life, yet when she’d hugged him and beamed with pride after receiving her licence, it had all been worth it. He’d felt they were becoming friends. Good friends. But, at the end of the day, it was another man she’d gone home with more often than not.
This time, however, it would be different. His patience had gotten him nowhere, now he needed to act, to ensure she saw him in a romantic light. Lucy was meant to be with him. He just needed to convince her of the fact.