Hey Sunshine (6 page)

“Just coffee. Black.” That dimple was still showing, and I wanted to dip my finger in it.

“I don’t usually drink this. I mean, I drink coffee. But not this coffee. Not a latte, or coffee from here. Not that this place is bad, it’s just that I can drink free coffee at the diner, so…” I realized I was babbling and trailed off. Great, I went from mute to word vomiting.
Really smooth, Avery.

The dimple deepened. “Got it. No to expensive lattes, yes to free coffee.”

“Right.” I took a deep breath and asked a question I’d been wondering all week. “Are you working on something? On your laptop?”

An indecipherable expression crossed Fox’s face, and then the dimple was back. “Sort of.”

I waited a beat to see if he’d elaborate but he raised his cup and took a drink instead. Okay then. His expression remained pleasant so I decided to press my luck.

“Are you thinking of staying around Brancher for a while?” There was that boldness again.

Fox looked right into my eyes before he answered. “I hadn’t planned on it, but I think I’ve changed my mind.”

“Oh. Oh, well, that’s great,” I mumbled. “Really great.”

“It was nice running into you,” he said, standing and shouldering his backpack. Something over my shoulder caught his eye and I thought I saw his face pale slightly. I glanced over my shoulder but didn’t see anything, and I turned back to him curiously. I watched as he looked down uneasily, then shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Are you okay?” I asked, concerned. His self assuredness had all but vanished within a few seconds, and for a moment I had a glimpse of someone very different.

“Yeah,” he said, the carefully guarded expression back in place. “See you, Avery.”

We went our separate ways after his comment about his plans to stay in Brancher, but our impromptu coffee date broke the ice and now we waved and said hello whenever we saw each other in town. Over the next couple weeks, I found myself replaying my brief conversation with Fox at the coffee hut. I still couldn’t get his momentary character break out of my head, but as time went on, I convinced myself I’d just imagined it.

Annabelle was particularly excited any time she spotted Fox in our travels.

“Look Mama! Fox is running!” she’d say from the backseat. Or “That’s a big sammich! Will Fox eat it all?” when we saw him leave the barbecue place. One time we saw him in the grocery store, buying fresh fruit and salad ingredients, and I practically had to restrain Annabelle from running up to him to ask fifty questions about the contents of his basket. There was no question who Annabelle got her curiosity from; I wanted to know more about him too.

* * *

My daily routine needed a facelift now that Chase was part of it, and fitting him into the already hectic schedule was proving to be harder than I anticipated.

Between school, work, and Annabelle, I’d forgotten what it was like to have a social life outside of family obligations and play dates. I’d just started Annabelle in a new preschool program so I could work a bit more and have a little time to myself, and on her days off we had dance class and always lots of errands. Chase was busy at the Dempsey car lot and we didn’t get as much time together as we would like but, honestly, most nights I was too tired to even miss him.

“C’mon babe, can’t your parents babysit?” Chase pleaded one evening. For the second night that week we were sitting in my tiny living room watching TV. I was exhausted and not in the mood to argue. My afternoon had been a disaster between Annabelle’s dinnertime tantrum over the veggies in her pasta and a leaky pipe in the bathroom. I put Annabelle to bed before Chase arrived and lit a few candles to give a semblance of a real date, but his patience for movies and takeout was wearing thin.

I sighed. “I’ll ask. Maybe Friday?” The football team had an away game on Friday and I knew the diner would be slow. Usually one or both of my parents were on hand for weekend nights because they were our busiest, but football season threw everything off.

Chase didn’t understand why I didn’t ask my parents to watch Annabelle more often and, admittedly, it probably seemed strange. When Annabelle was an infant there were times when I was scared out of my mind, alone in my little house while she screamed with colic or cried hysterically as she cut a tooth. But “Most Organized” needed to feel like she could do it on her own, without anyone’s help. I appreciated the fact that my child had loving, doting grandparents, but I brought that baby into this world, she was my fiercest joy, and I wanted to experience all of it.

My deepest anxiety came when I imagined graduate school in New York, a city I was unsure of, where I really wouldn’t have a soul to turn to if Annabelle needed something. Doing it on my own now was good practice for next year. But in the meantime, it probably wouldn’t kill me to loosen the reins just a little, for the sake of my relationship.

“I finished my final paperwork today,” I told Chase, changing the subject. “Now I just have to send it in and wait for NYU to tell me my fate.” I snuggled closer to him while he scrounged for the last pieces of popcorn in the bowl.

“That’s great,” Chase said absently, his eyes on the television.

“Have you decided on a major? Business?” I pressed. I was so excited when Chase expressed a desire to give college a try. He had passed up lucrative football scholarships when he joined the Forest Service, but he had savings or he could enroll at a community college just about anywhere.

“What? No, I’m still thinking.” He grabbed the remote and started flipping channels.

When I first told Chase about my decision to apply for the Dramatic Writing MFA program at Tisch School of the Arts at NYU, his support meant the world to me.

“We’ll kick New York’s ass, babe,” he had said. But lately, it seemed like higher education was the last thing on his mind.

He was making good money already at the car lot – everyone in the county wanted to buy a car from the hero firefighter. I was more than a bit worried that he would forego the idea of school entirely, and then I didn’t know what would become of our budding second chance. If Chase stayed in Brancher, would he expect me to do the same?

My parents tried to be encouraging, but they thought NYU was a pipe dream and that I should do something sensible, like change my major to accounting and set up a little business and maybe also take over The Kitchen for them so they could open a second location. But numbers and spreadsheets weren’t exactly my forte, and I couldn’t picture myself behind a desk with a calculator and produce order forms.

Chase was obliviously caught up in an auto-restoration episode and didn’t notice the shift in my demeanor, so I let myself brood a bit. I couldn’t stay in Texas. I wouldn’t. I wanted more for myself and for Annabelle. School was the answer. Even if I ended up writing commercials for cat litter, it got me out of this town and away from the idea of settling. The Kent’s Kitchen chain was my parents’ dream, not mine. I would take my degrees and my ambition and pound the pavement until someone hired me. I might get a thousand no’s first, but I knew someday I’d get that yes.

And in the meantime, I’d wait tables, or park cars, or do whatever I had to do so Annabelle had whatever she needed. I hoped Chase wanted to be a part of that, but if he decided he didn’t, I would go ahead on my own.

Chapter 6

I spent the beginning of my diner shift distracted and feeling uneasy about my quick dismissal of Chase’s intentions the night before. He hadn't said he wasn’t going to college, and I needed to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Don’t create problems where there aren’t any, dummy
, I reminded myself as I cleared plates and refilled iced teas.

The lunch rush was just slowing down when Fox came into the diner and took a seat at the counter. He grabbed a menu off the rack and flipped through it quickly. My watch told me I had about forty-five minutes before I had to pick up Annabelle, so I signaled to Joy that I’d take him and headed over.

“Hey,” I greeted him.

“Hello, Avery.” His dimple popped out immediately. The way he said my name sounded different than I’d ever heard it. I wasn’t sure why, I just knew I liked it.

Fox closed the menu and rested his elbows on the counter. His simple white T-shirt deepened his tan and made his green eyes stand out. Since he’d been in Brancher, his hair had gotten even longer, almost to the nape of his neck. I was used to seeing it tied back when he ran, but today he wore it loose, casually tucked behind his ears with a few strands in disarray. I’m not sure what was so appealing about this man, besides his obvious physical attractiveness. My usual style was the clean-cut type, and I honestly thought J.D. had soured me on all rough-around-the-edges, mysterious men forever. But maybe all those late-night Netflix binges were changing my mind, because there was no comparison to any man I’d ever met in real life. If Jax Teller and Tim Riggins had a brother, it would definitely be Beckett Fox.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Just coffee, thanks.” His dimple was extra deep today.

I smiled. “Black, right?” I turned to get a coffee mug and his voice stopped me.

“Is your father around?”

“Um, I think he’s in the back…” I trailed off, wondering where he was going with this. As far as I knew, he’d met my dad one time at Chase’s welcome home party.

“Could you please tell him I’m here? He’s expecting me.” Fox took the coffee cup I offered.

My dad was expecting him? This was news to me, but I tried to keep the surprise off my face when I knocked on the office door and announced Fox’s arrival. My dad got up from his desk immediately and made his way out to the counter, leaving me to trail cluelessly behind him.

He shook hands with Fox and got his own cup of coffee before the two of them settled in a booth and started talking. I cornered Joy in the kitchen but she had no idea what was going on either.

“I don’t know, darlin’. Your daddy didn’t mention anything to me.” Not surprising, as this conversation with Fox was probably on record as the longest chat my dad ever had. She glanced through the swinging doors to where they sat. “That boy sure is good lookin’. Where’s he from, again?”

“I don’t know. California or something,” I said impatiently. I grabbed the coffee pot and went out to refill their cups, but when I got to the table they were discussing the price of beef so I returned to the kitchen with no new information.

Twenty minutes later, I cashed out and grabbed my purse to go pick up Annabelle. Fox and my dad were still talking away in their booth, and I waved as I walked to the door.

“Avery, wait up,” Fox called.

I turned and saw him jogging toward me, the pause in his step only slightly noticeable today. My dad was already headed back to his office with his coffee cup. Fox held the door open for me and we stepped out onto the scorching sidewalk.

“Are you in a hurry?”

“Well, I have to go pick up my daughter at school but I have a minute, I guess.” My curiosity was on overdrive – there was no way I was missing whatever Fox had to say but I tried to appear nonchalant.

“I wanted to tell you that your father offered me the open cook’s position.”

When Tiny, our breakfast cook, decided last month he was going to pack up and go live with his brother in Austin, it put my parents in a real bind. Billy worked overtime, my mom pitched in, my dad manned the grill a few times, and we made it work, but we’re open seven days a week and finding a new cook proved harder than anticipated. I knew my dad was stressed about it, and I was glad that problem was solved. But Fox? Cooking at The Kitchen? Did that mean he was staying in Brancher permanently?

My face must’ve been a spectacle because Fox laughed. I wasn’t sure I’d heard it before, but it fit him. Deep and rough but genuine. I decided I’d try to keep doing things that would spark that reaction from him just so I could hear it.

“Okay.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“I can cook, you know.” Fox’s dimple was back in full force, and he looked amused at my incredulity. “Billy doesn’t want to work all nights anymore so we’re going to switch it up a bit, and I guess your mom likes cooking so she’s going to keep a few shifts.”

“That sounds good.” I was really winning today in the conversation department.

“There’s more,” he said. More? Really? Was he my estranged cousin or something?

Oh please God, do not tell me we’re related.

“The apartment upstairs,” he continued. “Your dad said it’s available, so I’m moving in.”

The Kitchen had a tiny apartment above the restaurant. My parents used it for storage and occasionally to crash for the night if they closed late and had to open again early.

I had very briefly considered living there before Annabelle was born, but it was more of a studio than a one bedroom, and certainly not big enough for a baby and all the things that went along with that. And of course “Most Organized” was determined to be independent, so I scraped together everything I had and mortgaged the rest to get my little house.

The old flat wasn’t in the best of shape from what I recalled the last time I was up there, but it was probably better than the motel. There was a separate entrance around the back and a tiny patio off the living area, which was actually private as it also faced the back of the building.

All of these thoughts resulted in one big realization: I would be seeing Fox a lot more. And I didn’t hate it. He was waiting for my reaction, and I smiled. “I think it’s great. Welcome to The Kitchen.”

“Thanks.” We stood looking at each other for a few seconds, and with the sunlight streaming through his hair and caressing his tanned skin, I had an almost hallucinatory moment brought on by his ridiculous beauty and felt a little lightheaded.

Jesus, get it together, Avery
. Clearly, a handsome new coworker, too much sun, and not enough sleep will all interact to make you loopy. He looked curiously at me when I laughed at myself, but he didn’t comment. I’d learned over the last couple weeks, even with limited interaction, that nothing much could ruffle Fox. Even though he was probably the only person in the last thirty years to voluntarily move to Brancher, the oddities of this particular small town and being the under-the-microscope new guy didn’t seem to bother him in the least.