one night.
But even still, she had kept the letters. She couldn’t bring herself to throw them away.
I prefer those North Carolina stars. They’re warmer. And beneath them, there’s a pretty girl and some blueberry pie waiting.
Kat took another gulp of her wine.
Had she really seen Jason tonight? It had felt like a ghost had come back to her. And of all places, in a dive bar like Reggie’s.
Uncle Doughy had told her that if ever she was in trouble to go find a man named Reggie Black. He would help her no matter what. She had gone to find this man to ask for a loan. She needed more money to keep the diner afloat. With decline in business all across the town, Doughy Pop’s was having a harder time making ends meet.
But instead of a possible angel investor, she had found the devil of her dreams.
Jason.
He seemed taller than she remembered. And broader. And more powerful. She remembered his arm around her as he had pressed her against him, protecting her from the brawl. She remembered his strength as he easily kept her near, not letting her scoot even an inch away until they had reached safety.
But his face was darker. His scruff was thicker and his face more lined. He looked like a man who was living a haunted life. His eyes, which had always been sharp and potent, now looked absolutely lethal. He seemed honed to a razor blade’s edge. Cross him wrong and he would cut you.
Yes, a man like that would stop writing, Kat deduced finally. She finished the rest of her wine.
It was just as well that that dream died as well. There was no room in her life now for princes and fairy tales. Her uncle had died. Her brother was sick. And she was about to lose the only semblance of a home she had ever had.
Lying down her bed, Kat realized maybe it was finally time to throw those letters away.
Chapter Seven
The diner door chimed as Kat walked in. Malcolm was in the back cooking. He had taken over the role of cooking after Uncle Doughy’s death. Kat had originally wanted to be cook but management of the home and restaurant took too much time for her to be behind the stove.
Malcolm’s head popped up through the order window and nodded at his sister.
Kat quickly threw her purse under the register and grabbed an apron. She had had to drop off Dillon at the hospital for his treatment in the morning. A year or two ago, she would’ve been worried about leaving the diner short, but these days, with how slow business was, she knew Malcolm would be okay.
Janelle bustled by, smiling. Janelle was a local high school student who Kat had quickly hired after Uncle Do’s death. Janelle was sweet and hardworking and a blessing to Doughy Pop’s.
Looking around, her prediction had been right. The place wasn’t even a quarter full and Janelle was covering all the tables. So tying her hair back, Kat quickly hefted the tray of clean glasses to stack below the soda machine.
As she worked, she heard Malcolm’s voice through the order window, “How was Dill?”
“Oh you know him,” Kat replied, carefully stacking the glasses. This was not a time she could afford any broken glasses. “Taking it like a champ as usual.”
If anything, she wished Dillon would complain more. His quiet strength and resolve broke her heart. He had missed so much of his childhood because of his illness. And yet, he worked to keep any hardship to himself because he didn’t
But even still, she had kept the letters. She couldn’t bring herself to throw them away.
I prefer those North Carolina stars. They’re warmer. And beneath them, there’s a pretty girl and some blueberry pie waiting.
Kat took another gulp of her wine.
Had she really seen Jason tonight? It had felt like a ghost had come back to her. And of all places, in a dive bar like Reggie’s.
Uncle Doughy had told her that if ever she was in trouble to go find a man named Reggie Black. He would help her no matter what. She had gone to find this man to ask for a loan. She needed more money to keep the diner afloat. With decline in business all across the town, Doughy Pop’s was having a harder time making ends meet.
But instead of a possible angel investor, she had found the devil of her dreams.
Jason.
He seemed taller than she remembered. And broader. And more powerful. She remembered his arm around her as he had pressed her against him, protecting her from the brawl. She remembered his strength as he easily kept her near, not letting her scoot even an inch away until they had reached safety.
But his face was darker. His scruff was thicker and his face more lined. He looked like a man who was living a haunted life. His eyes, which had always been sharp and potent, now looked absolutely lethal. He seemed honed to a razor blade’s edge. Cross him wrong and he would cut you.
Yes, a man like that would stop writing, Kat deduced finally. She finished the rest of her wine.
It was just as well that that dream died as well. There was no room in her life now for princes and fairy tales. Her uncle had died. Her brother was sick. And she was about to lose the only semblance of a home she had ever had.
Lying down her bed, Kat realized maybe it was finally time to throw those letters away.
Chapter Seven
The diner door chimed as Kat walked in. Malcolm was in the back cooking. He had taken over the role of cooking after Uncle Doughy’s death. Kat had originally wanted to be cook but management of the home and restaurant took too much time for her to be behind the stove.
Malcolm’s head popped up through the order window and nodded at his sister.
Kat quickly threw her purse under the register and grabbed an apron. She had had to drop off Dillon at the hospital for his treatment in the morning. A year or two ago, she would’ve been worried about leaving the diner short, but these days, with how slow business was, she knew Malcolm would be okay.
Janelle bustled by, smiling. Janelle was a local high school student who Kat had quickly hired after Uncle Do’s death. Janelle was sweet and hardworking and a blessing to Doughy Pop’s.
Looking around, her prediction had been right. The place wasn’t even a quarter full and Janelle was covering all the tables. So tying her hair back, Kat quickly hefted the tray of clean glasses to stack below the soda machine.
As she worked, she heard Malcolm’s voice through the order window, “How was Dill?”
“Oh you know him,” Kat replied, carefully stacking the glasses. This was not a time she could afford any broken glasses. “Taking it like a champ as usual.”
If anything, she wished Dillon would complain more. His quiet strength and resolve broke her heart. He had missed so much of his childhood because of his illness. And yet, he worked to keep any hardship to himself because he didn’t
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