“I love the name of your restaurant.” My customer handed me her credit card.
I smiled and swiped. “Thank you.”
“Except she spelled it wrong,” Randall grumbled on the other side of the register.
He’d been camped out on “his stool” all afternoon and evening, offering commentary to people as they came to pay their tabs. He’d been talking and eating. Randall had walked in right before the lunch rush and had since eaten two quiches, a spinach salad, a chicken potpie, three apple pies and two peach cobblers.
“Mason,” he muttered. “M-a-s-o-n. That’s how you spell mason jar.”
My customer looked at him, about to come to my rescue, but I just laughed. “Ignore him,” I told her as I handed back her card. “He’s just grouchy because I cut him off after five desserts.”
Randall scowled. “Grown man can’t even indulge in desserts these days without a lecture.”
“You’ll thank me later when you aren’t in a sugar coma.” I shot him my so there look and turned back to my customer with a smile. “Thanks for coming in! I hope you enjoyed everything.”
“Oh, yes, it was wonderful. You’ve got a fantastic menu. And so creative.” She glared at Randall. “Especially the name. I’ll definitely be back.”
“Thanks again!” I waved good-bye as she turned to leave.
When the door closed behind her, I surveyed the empty tables in the restaurant. For the first time since seven this morning, they were all vacant.
“Wow.” Molly joined me at the register with a wet rag. “That was crazy. I figured we’d be busy, but never that busy. We’re sold out of everything but one potpie and three salads.”
“It’s a good thing we’re closing in,” I glanced at my watch, “twenty-seven minutes.”
Not that I’d be going home. I’d be in the kitchen all night making breakfast dishes for the morning and replenishing the dessert cooler.
The late-evening summer sun was starting to set, and the dinner rush had finally subsided. At nearly eight, closing time for my small café was just around the corner, and as much as I didn’t want to turn customers away, I was hoping that my now-empty tables would remain that way. I didn’t want to have to explain—again—why I had so few options to offer from the menu.
“I need to adjust inventory plans for this week. I felt like a chump telling people we had hardly anything left.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Molly patted my hand. “People understood. You can make some adjustments and everything will be fine.”
“Traffic will probably slow down once we’re not the new thing anymore, but until then, we should plan for more.”
She nodded. “I agree. I’ve already updated the budget and sales projections.”
“You make sure to add a few extra pies to your tally for me.” Randall pulled on his cap. “I don’t want you running out if I’m here.”
Molly rolled her eyes but I just smiled. “Okay, Randall. I’ll make sure to save you some desserts.”
He slid off his stool and grabbed his cane. “See you girls tomorrow.” He gave me a pointed stare. “Don’t stay too late.”
I crossed my heart. “Promise.”
Molly and I waited for him to leave before we both burst out laughing. Yesterday, I’d thought my chances of seeing Randall James again were slim to none. Now, I was thinking he’d be my most frequent customer.
“Today was a good day.” Molly grabbed her rag and started wiping down the counter.
“A very good day.” With the exception of running low on food, I couldn’t imagine the opening having gone any better. Customers had been happy. Jars had been scraped clean. And I had found my rhythm quickly, balancing work in the kitchen and managing the counter with Molly.
And though he was a bit cantankerous, Randall had been a welcome and comforting presence today. Anytime I’d gotten flustered or started to stress, I’d found his eyes waiting for me with a small nod. His silent encouragement had saved me today.
Molly finished wiping the counter and started on the tables. “I’m glad we’re bringing in a part-time helper soon. I don’t think I can handle six in the morning until after eight at night on a regular basis. I’m dead on my feet.”
“Me too.” Except I’d been here since four and would probably stay until well after midnight.
As Molly cleaned, I took a tub of silverware and black paper napkins to a table and collapsed into the seat. Closing my eyes, I relaxed for a few seconds before getting back to work, rolling the silverware in the napkins and finishing them with a white paper ring.
Molly finished up with the tables and came to sit down, helping me with the silverware. “I’m going home, taking a long, hot bath and then going straight to bed. For once, I’m glad Finn has the kids at his place so I can crash.”
Finn had come in earlier with Kali and Max so they could eat dinner. When Molly had joined them, I’d gotten a momentary swell of hope that the four of them might have a nice family meal, but then Finn had squashed it. He’d turned his chair sideways, away from Molly, with a two-foot gap between them so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact. He’d literally given her the cold shoulder.
“Did you and Finn talk at all during dinner?” I asked.
Molly shook her head. “No. He won’t talk to me. I’ve tried for months but . . . you know. He’ll never forgive me.”
I gave her a sad smile. She’d given up hope, but I hadn’t. Not when there was still love there.
Because Finn and Molly did love one another. Anyone who spent thirty seconds with them could feel it. But their marriage hadn’t been easy. A year ago, the two of them had been going through a rough patch. Finn had been working a ton and not spending much time at home. When he was there, he’d take his work stress out on Molly. They’d been fighting so much, Finn had actually moved out. They’d agreed on a separation and therapy, but Finn had never found the time to meet with their counselor.
Then Molly had made a mistake.
She’d been lonely and certain her marriage was over. She’d gone to a bachelorette party, gotten blitzed and had sex with some random guy from the bar. She’d messed up—big time—but to her credit, she’d owned her mistake. She’d told Finn the truth and begged for forgiveness. He’d told her to get a lawyer instead.
I’d had a hard time believing my friend could do that to my brother. I’d been angry and said some things I hadn’t meant, but then I’d apologized and forgiven her. Things had been so hard for her when Finn had moved out. She’d been devastated.
So I’d assumed my role as Switzerland, supporting Molly as my best friend and Finn as my one and only sibling. Meanwhile, they were miserable. Finn was punishing Molly for one mistake. Molly was still punishing herself for losing the love of her life.
“I’m sorry, Molly.”
She shrugged. “It’s my fault. If I were in his place, if he had cheated, I’d be ruined.”
Cheated. Why did she always say cheated? I hated that word. And the way she said it was worse than any four-letter curse. Molly wasn’t a cheater. Molly was just human, dealing as best she could with a broken heart. “You weren’t together.”
“We were still married. I was—am—still in love with him. I understand why he’s hurt and angry. Some mistakes you just can’t forgive.”
Or forget.
Molly would regret that mistake for the rest of her life.
“Enough about that.” Molly forced a smile, steering the conversation away from her and Finn like usual. “How was your karate class last night?”
Unlike my brother, Molly was more accepting about my decision to work through Jamie’s list.
“It was . . . interesting.”
So interesting that I’d stayed up most of the night thinking about that class. My mind had run on a loop all night, but not about karate. About Cole Goodman. It had certainly been a shock to see him again, but more surprising was the rush of feelings he’d invoked.
Feelings—chemical, electric feelings—I hadn’t had in a long time.
“So? What happened? Did you learn how to kick some ass?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m an expert ass kicker,” I deadpanned, then laughed. “I’m just glad that I survived the workout. To me, that’s a win.”
“Did you mark it off the list?”
I nodded. “Last night when I got home.”
“Are you okay?”
“I think so. I cried like usual, but when the tears stopped, I actually felt kind of good.”
“I’m glad. That’s what you were going for, right? Some closure?”
I nodded and rolled another bundle of silverware. “I’ve actually been thinking about trying to go through the list more quickly.”
Finn’s big objection was that going through Jamie’s list would drag on for years, and I could see his point. Now that I was starting to cross off more items, I was feeling motivated to keep going.
“How quickly?” Molly asked.
“A year? Maybe less?”
She thought about it for a moment. “It’s ambitious. Do you think it’s even possible?”
The biggest item on Jamie’s list had been the restaurant. It had also been the item requiring the most money. For the others, I mostly needed time. Luckily, some items I’d already set in motion.
“I think so. A year is going to be a push, but if I make the list a higher priority, I might be able to wrap up everything before Jamie’s birthday.” That would give me until New Year’s Day.
“Well, you know I’ll help with whatever I can.”
“Thank you.”
She moved her finished rolls of silverware into the tub. “You haven’t eaten yet. Why don’t you head back to the kitchen and I’ll finish up out here?”
I glanced at my watch. 7:49. “We survived the first day. I think I’ll head back and make a sandwich. I’m starv—”
The front door swooshed opened. Damn. I spoke too soon.
Turning to the door, I smiled, ready to greet my late-evening customer, but faltered as the door closed behind him.
Cole Goodman was walking my way.
My belly dipped as I took him in. His aviator sunglasses were perched on top of his chocolate-brown hair. A black polo stretched across his broad shoulders and pulled tight across his muscled arms. His pale-blue jeans molded to his Herculean thighs before draping down to his black, square-toed boots. The leather belt on Cole’s trim waist held both a shining badge and a holstered gun.
Cole smiled and locked his light-green eyes on mine as he crossed the room.
His straight, white teeth made my breath hitch—something that had happened last night more times than I wanted to admit.
Molly, who had turned around from her seat to greet our customer, spun around so her back was to Cole. Her cheeks flushed as she whispered, “Wow.”
Wow was right.
Cole Goodman was—simply put—gorgeous.
He could give a woman a speeding ticket and get a thank-you in return. He inspired women to attempt push-ups in a karate class just for the chance to watch him sweat through his gi. Cole made grown women blush like teenagers and giggle in corners, like those girls at the dojo last night.
Besides Jamie, I’d never seen a man so handsome. And if I were being honest with myself, Cole had even Jamie beat.
The blush in my cheeks paled as a knot of guilt settled in my stomach. I loved Jamie. Jamie had been a gorgeous man too. And as his wife, I shouldn’t be attracted to another man.
My smile turned to a frown the moment Cole stepped up to our table.
“Hey, Poppy.”
“Hi, Cole.”
His smile fell. “You don’t look happy to see me again.”
“Again?” Molly asked.
Cole looked down to my friend and held out his hand. “Cole Goodman. I ran into Poppy at the karate school last night.”
“Oh!” She stood and took his hand. “I’m Molly Alcott. Nice to meet you. Poppy was just telling me about your karate class.” She turned to me. “But she didn’t tell me she’d been bragging up the restaurant.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Actually, I heard about this place online,” Cole said. “I saw Poppy’s name and decided to check it out.” He looked my way. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“No. Not at all.” I stood, shaking off my strange feelings. I couldn’t afford to turn away customers, even if they were handsome and made me feel uncomfortable things.
“I tried to get in earlier but I had something come up at work. I don’t suppose you’ve got any dinner left?”
“Just barely. We had more of a rush than I expected and we’re down to just a few things. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. That’s a good problem to have on opening day.”
“You know,” Molly said, standing too, “I was just telling Poppy she should eat. She’s been running around like crazy all day. Why don’t you eat together?”
My eyes snapped to my friend. “It’s late and I’m sure Cole just wants to take something to—”
“I’d like that.” He grinned at Molly.
She smiled back.
I looked from one to the other and back again. I held up a finger to Cole. “Would you excuse us for just a minute?”
He chuckled and pulled out a chair at our table, taking a seat. “Take all the time you need.”
I grabbed Molly’s elbow, then yanked her away from the table and back to the kitchen. When the door swung closed behind us, I let her go and planted my hands on my hips. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“You like him.”
“What?” I squeaked. My voice was so high it’d send dogs into barking hysterics.
“See?” She gave me her smug smile. “You like him.”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t. I don’t like him.”
“Liar.”
I huffed. “It’s complicated. I know him.”
“Yeah. From karate.”
“No.” I shook my head and took a deep breath. “I knew him before karate. He was the cop that came to my house to tell me that Jamie . . .” I twirled my wrist instead of finishing my sentence.
“Oh, shit.”
“Pretty much.”
Molly paced back and forth by my prep table for a few moments, fidgeting with her hands. When she stopped walking, she planted both hands on the table. “Okay. I can see how that would be weird, but the fact still stands. You like him.”
I shrugged. “He’s cute. But I don’t like him.”
“Cute?”
“Smoking hot. Whatever. None of that matters. I am in no place to be liking a man.”
She sighed and left the table, coming to stand right in front of me. Then she placed her hands on my shoulders. “Okay. I’ve been saving this speech for a day like today.”
“I’m scared right now.”
“Shush and listen up.” She took a breath and started reciting something she’d clearly practiced a time or twelve. “You are my best friend and I love you. I want you to be happy and have love in your life. Jamie would have wanted you to be happy and have love in your life. And I think it’s time for you to open your heart again to that possibility.”
“It’s too soon.” I shook my head. Even thinking about being with another man made my heart hurt. I couldn’t do that to Jamie. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
“Poppy,” Molly whispered, “at some point, a man was going to come along and catch your eye. There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with you exploring something with that guy. It’s not a betrayal to Jamie.”
The lump in the back of my throat started to choke. “It feels like it though. I can’t do that to him.”
“I understand. I really do. We all loved Jamie. We all miss Jamie. But it’s been five years. You’re going through his list to try and move on, right?”
I nodded.
“The list is a good thing, you know I support you in that. But just marking off all Jamie’s check boxes isn’t going to be enough. At some point, you have to live for you too. That’s how you’re going to move on.”
“But I . . .” I wanted to move on, but I was scared to move on. As much as I wanted to be happy and let go of the past, I was terrified that I’d lose the piece of Jamie still in my heart.
“But what?”
I took a deep breath and confessed the worries that had kept me from sleeping last night. “What if I fall in love with another man and forget Jamie?”
She gave me a sad smile. “Do you really think that would ever happen?”
“No,” I sighed. “Not really. I’m just scared.”
“I get that. But I’m not saying jump into bed with Cole or have his babies. I’m just saying, you think he’s cute. From the look in his eye, he thinks you’re cute too. You two should spend some time being cute together.”
“Okay. I officially hate the word cute.”
“Me too.” She laughed. “So what do you say? Have dinner with him. Do it for me. Pleeeeease?”
I groaned. “Stop that. Now you sound like Kali.”
“Where do you think I learned it? She says ‘please’ so long and loud I always give in. Do you want me to do it again? I’ll do it again. Pleeeee—”
“Okay! Since I’m already making myself a sandwich, I’ll make him one too.”
“Yes!” she cheered before pulling me into her arms. “Love you, Poppy-bear.”
I smiled at the nickname she’d given me my freshman year in college. “Love you too, Molly-moo.”
“How about I finish up out there and close up? Then you guys can eat back here.”
I let her go. “All right. Will you give me a minute before you send him back?”
“I’ll give you two.”
As she disappeared from the kitchen, my hands came to my cheeks and I took a few long breaths.
Dinner. This was just dinner.
Dinner with an acquaintance at my new restaurant. Cole and I could chat and make small talk while we ate. Then he’d leave and I could get back to work. Dinner didn’t mean anything. I was still Jamie’s wife. I’d always be Jamie’s wife, and there was nothing wrong with me cooking a meal for Cole.
This is just dinner.
My affirmations helped ease my anxiety but didn’t erase it entirely. So I did the next best thing to settle my racing heart—I started cooking.
I dropped my hands and went to the large, stainless-steel refrigerator. Then I pulled out the ingredients for grilled cheese sandwiches, piling food on the prep table. I’d gathered all of my supplies when the door swung open and Cole stepped into the kitchen.
“I was told to get out of her dining room if I wanted food.”
I giggled. “She has a way with customers, that one.”
He smiled and stepped up to the prep table. “I can go if this is a pain in the ass. I really did just want to say hi and check out your place.”
“You’re hungry. I’m hungry. Making you dinner is not a pain in the ass. How about a grilled cheese? They aren’t on the menu, but I’ve been told they don’t suck.”
“Considering I haven’t eaten since ten this morning, I’d eat just about anything.”
“Busy day?”
He sighed. “Busy year. Bozeman’s growing so fast that we’re a little understaffed with senior officers. I made detective last summer and it’s been hectic ever since.”
“Is that why you don’t have to wear a uniform anymore?” I waved at his casual clothes. When I’d seen him five years ago, he’d been in uniform.
“Yeah.”
I nodded and started slicing a tomato.
“Can I help?”
“I’ve got this. You can just relax.” I pointed to the stools next to the table.
Cole took his seat and rested his elbows on the table. As I cut slices off a block of cheese, his tan, sinewy forearms were right in my line of sight. On one wrist sat a watch with a huge silver face. I bet my fingers wouldn’t touch if they took the place of his watch.
My eyes wandered up from his wrists and forearms to his biceps. Cole’s arms were big but not bulky. The muscles were just perfectly defined, even underneath the cotton of his shirt. My hand would look tiny resting on his arm. My cheeks flushed when I realized I’d been staring for a moment too long.
I blinked and looked down at the table, then up at Cole’s face.
Damn. He’d caught me staring. The smirk in his eyes was unmistakable, but I didn’t look away. His eyes were too . . . fascinating.
I’d never seen green eyes like Cole’s before. The color reminded me of dried sage, and his dark, thick lashes made them even more dramatic. His face drew you in with his chiseled jaw and straight nose, but those eyes were what made you stay.
My heart was pounding as I set down the knife, but I couldn’t break away from Cole’s eyes.
And he stared right back.
Molly came bursting through the kitchen door, making me jump. “All clean and locked up.”
I scrambled to pick up my knife, then blinked a few times before cutting a slice of bread. “Thank you. Would you like something to eat? I’m making your favorite sandwich.”
Stay. Molly, stay. I willed her to come to my rescue, to take the stool next to Cole and be my buffer, but she kept on walking toward the office.
“Can’t do it. My bathtub is calling my name. I’ll see you in the morning. Cole, nice meeting you.”
He waved. “Nice to meet you too.”
She disappeared into the office, then came back with her purse slung over a shoulder. “Bye!”
“Night.” The minute the back door slammed shut, a new rush of jitters hit. I was alone with a handsome man who was not my husband.
My kitchen, something I’d designed to be large and spacious, was suddenly too small. The air conditioning that I kept running on high must have just quit working because my entire body was on fire. And I had forgotten how to make a grilled cheese sandwich as the knife sat motionless in my hand.
“What did you think of karate last night?” Cole asked, breaking the silence.
Dinner. This is just dinner. Breathe.
I forced some air into my lungs, then pushed away from the table to turn on the flat-iron grill. “It was interesting but I’m already getting sore. Especially my arms. I imagine by tomorrow my entire body will be on strike.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. It’s a tough workout. Are you sure you won’t try it again?”
“I’m sure.” I went back to the table and brushed four slices of bread with some olive oil, then spread on a thin layer of homemade pesto before adding the cheese and tomato. “To be honest, I only came for a one-time deal. I hope that doesn’t offend your instructor.”
“Nah, he doesn’t care. But why only the one time? Was it a dare or something?”
“It’s, um . . . from this list.”
“A list?”
Explaining Jamie’s birthday list was so personal that only a few people knew about it. Even fewer knew I was going through it myself. Yet, for some reason, I wanted to tell Cole. “My husband, Jamie, he put together this birthday list. It was like his bucket list, except he separated out everything to do by year before certain birthdays. Taking a karate class was something he wanted to do before he turned twenty-six.”
Cole nodded. “And you’re going through his list.”
“I am.” I was ready to defend the list and why I was going through it, but his eyes weren’t full of concern or judgment or questions. They just . . . understood.
He understood without a word.
“Interesting idea. What else is on this list, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Not at all.” I resumed sandwich assembly. “Jamie put twenty-two things on the list. Most of them are silly, but totally him. He added some things he found on the internet he thought sounded cool. Others were goofy things he dreamed up or things he didn’t get to do as a kid. Jump in green Jell-O. Have a paint fight. Things like that. Some were more serious, like buying me this restaurant.”
Cole leaned over to pluck three oranges out of the fruit bowl on the table. “Have you done many of them yet?”
“No, not even close.” I smiled as he started juggling the oranges. “I’ve only marked off three. The restaurant. The karate class. And skydiving.”
Cole dropped an orange and it rolled across the table. “Skydiving?”
I laughed at the shock on his face. “You’re not the only one surprised I did it. But yeah. I went last month.”
While Cole picked up the fallen orange and resumed juggling, I took the sandwiches to the grill, setting them down on the hot metal. Then I rushed out of the kitchen and into the dining room, where all of the lights were off and the sign on the door had been flipped to Closed. With two sets of silverware and a couple of plates, I hustled back into the kitchen to set down the place settings and flip the sandwiches. Then I went to the fridge and got out a jar of salad.
“Here.” I handed the jar to Cole. “Use those muscles and shake this up.”
He grinned and put back his oranges before he started shaking. “Okay. Back to skydiving. You left me with a cliffhanger.”
I smiled. “It was the one item on the list that scared me, so I decided to just get it over with before I chickened out.”
He slid the salad jar across the table. The dressing that had been underneath a layer of vegetables and lettuce was now coating the glass. “And what did you think?”
“I actually loved it. The pilot said something before I jumped that really clicked. He said, ‘If you want to go swimming, you get out of the boat. Same is true with flying. You have to get out of the plane.’ So I did. I was strapped to this hippy with dreadlocks and bad breath, but he was so cool. The whole crew made it fun.”
“Would you ever go again?”
“Nope.” I popped the p to emphasize my point. “I had fun, but once was enough. Have you ever been?”
He shook his head. “No, but now I want to.”
I smiled and went back to the sandwiches, taking them off the grill. Then I dumped half of the salad on Cole’s plate and half on mine, sliding him his plate before taking the stool at his side. “Dig in.”
“This looks great. Thank you for doing this.”
“You’re welcome.”
We ate in silence, both of us concentrating on the food and listening to the hum of my kitchen appliances. But our meal didn’t take long since both of us had been so hungry.
Cole swallowed the last bite of his sandwich. “So. Jars?”
“Jars.”
“I like it. I’ll have to come back and try your desserts.”
I smiled. “I recommend the apple pie.”
His eyes, locked on mine, darkened a shade. “I’ll take whatever you’ll give me.”