Melt For Me (Against All Odds Book 3) (7 page)

“Don’t spill those,” Kelly said to him, flipping a bottle of vodka upside down and pouring a generous shot into her glass. “The boss lady won’t let you wait tables again if you do. And I know you want those tips.”

Bobby shot Ella a frightened look, then quickly scurried off.

Ella’s eyes widened. “Bobby’s waiting tables now too?”

“Look around you, Ella.” Kelly replaced the vodka, reached for a tumbler of juice, and added that to her glass. “This place is packed. We need all the hands we can get.”

Slowly, Ella turned and looked over the bar, only to realize Kelly was right. The place was way busier than normal, even during Christmas week. Not a single table was empty, and the lobby area was standing room only, with people spilling out onto the cold street, shivering in their coats as they waited for a table.

Confusion wrinkled her brow. “All this because we were closed at lunch?”

“As if,” Kelly huffed behind her. “They’re here for a glimpse of your boyfriend. And because word has spread how charming he is. Look at him.” Kelly nodded toward the restaurant. “That boy’s a money magnet, guaranteed. You should try to keep him around, Ella.”

“My…” Slowly, Ella looked to her left, her gaze landing on Tate once more. He stood at another table, laughing and chatting with an elderly couple. She watched as he laid a hand on the Pastor Reynolds’s shoulder and squeezed. Pastor Reynolds laughed, then nodded toward his wife. Tate grinned, a wide, beautiful smile that lit up his whole face, while Harriet Reynolds batted her lashes up at him as if he were the messiah.

Ella’s irritation slowly slid away and was replaced by another
bump, bump, bump
in her chest, the sound growing in her ears until it drowned out everything around her and made her focus only on the man with the beautiful smile, wearing a silly red apron no rock star would be caught dead in.

He was still here. He hadn’t left. He didn’t have any logical reason to stay, but he was in her pub, serving her neighbors, helping with something that didn’t involve him.

Almost as if he sensed her watching him, he turned his head and caught her gaze. And as his cool blue eyes held hers, a slow, warm, familiar smile curled his lips. Not the one he’d flashed the Reynoldses, but one she’d seen dozens of times before during the summer they’d spent together. One that was meant only for her.

Her mouth grew dry. Her hands damp. She couldn’t seem to look away. Then Mrs. Reynolds touched his arm, and he glanced back down at the table, breaking the spell that had sucked Ella under. And with a gasp, Ella turned for the closest door she could find.

“Ella,” Kelly called at her back. “Where are you going? I need you out here.”

But Ella didn’t listen. She moved into the kitchen, didn’t even bother to look at Matt at the grill, bypassed the cellar, and didn’t stop until she pushed the back door open and stepped out into the alley behind the pub.

“Oh my God,” she muttered, bending over to rest her hands on her knees so she could suck back air. “This is not happening.”

But it was. She could feel it. Deep inside, that heart she’d closed off after Kyle’s accident was coming to life, chipping away at the ice she’d built as a barrier, making her feel something other than dead. Because of that man in her bar. The one who’d been her first love, her only true love, and the single person in the world who had the power to make all her dreams come true.

The only problem was, he also had the power to crush them. And that kind of rejection was something she didn’t think she was strong enough to endure. Not again. Which meant the person who’d sabotaged her bar was now the least of her worries. Because she had absolutely no idea what she was supposed to think or feel or
do
now. Not when her heart was finally beating again.

CHAPTER FOUR

 
“T
hat’s the last of it,” Kelly said the following night, walking out of the kitchen and shrugging into her coat. “I had Matt stack the rest of the boxes in the hallway, so be careful if you go into the kitchen. I’ll deal with it all tomorrow.”

“Will do.” Tate placed the last utensil on the table and grinned, already thinking through the remainder of the evening. Yuletide Spirits had closed at midnight, and after the patrons had all gone home, he’d helped Matt before moving on to his task at hand. Now, an hour later, he and Kelly were the only ones left. But hopefully that would soon change.

“Do you need help with anything else?” she asked.

Tate just hoped it all went as planned. “Nope. Think I’m good.”

“You’re something, all right.” Kelly moved toward the front door and wrapped her scarf around her neck. A light snow was falling in the orange glow of the streetlights, and the road was quiet. “How are you going to get her to come down? She said she was turning in for the night.”

He glanced toward the door that led to the upper floors. Ella had said good night twenty minutes ago, but he had a strong hunch she wasn’t asleep. Ever since their eyes had locked across the restaurant during the dinner rush yesterday, she’d been acting different. Not so defiant. Not nearly as irritated. A whole lot nervous. And she hadn’t once told him it was time for him to leave, even when she’d come down today and found him still sticking around, helping out with the pub.

Maybe he was reading too much into her change of attitude, but last night, after he finally dropped into bed around two a.m. and heard her footsteps on the floor below him, he’d known she was having as much trouble sleeping near him as he was near her. He’d also known if he didn’t do something to take advantage of that soon, his chance to win her back would pass him right on by.

A flutter of nerves moved through his belly as he glanced at Kelly and lifted his brows. “I have a plan.”

Kelly grinned and pulled the door open. Cool air rushed into the pub as the bell above the door jingled. “I’m sure you do. Good luck, Kendrick. You’re gonna need it.”

She headed out into the snow, then disappeared around the corner of the building. When she was gone, Tate took a deep breath, looked back down at the table he’d set, and hoped like hell Kelly was wrong.

Food.
Assuming Ella took the bait and came down, he wasn’t getting her to stay without food.

Turning back toward the kitchen to check on the dinner he’d prepared, he stopped when he reached the bar, and flipped off the overhead lights. Twinkle lights ran around the top of the room, setting the mood. From the shelf beneath the bar, he reached for the new cell phone he’d managed to pick up yesterday, chose the playlist he’d put together earlier in the day, and turned the music on low.

Ten minutes later, he walked back into the pub with two plates in his hands and drew up short when he saw Ella standing near the table, staring at it like it just might jump up and bite her. She was wearing flannel pajama bottoms, fuzzy pink-and-white-striped slippers, and a long-sleeved fitted white T-shirt that shouldn’t look sexy but made his blood pound harder.

“What’s going on here?” She glanced his way with the cutest wrinkle between her brows. “I thought the bar was closed.”

“It is.” He crossed to the table and set the covered plates at each setting. “You’re just in time.”

“For what?”

“Dinner.” He pulled a chair out for her and waited, thankful the music had worked. She’d always had a thing for country music. He didn’t get the big appeal, but then he’d grown up listening to—and playing—rock and roll.

She looked from him to the table, then to the chair, with a wary expression. “It’s really la—”

“Ella,” he said, drawing her attention to his face. “It’s just dinner. And I think it’s the least you can give me considering I’ve worked in your pub for free the last two days.”

She pursed her lips but sat in the chair he held out. “I didn’t ask you to stay.”

No, she hadn’t. She also hadn’t told him to go, which he was taking as a big step in the right direction.

He scooted her chair in for her, then moved for the bar and came back with the bottle of wine he’d opened earlier. “If you want, I can send you a bill later.”

She huffed and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as he poured the wine. The speakers in the ceiling changed to some slow Brad Paisley ballad about storms. “I’m fairly certain I couldn’t afford you. Is that wine from my bar?”

“Nope. Norah Cassidy gave it to me as a welcome gift.”

Norah, as Tate had learned earlier in the day, ran the coffee shop and bookstore in Holly. Which, lucky for him, included a selection of wines—even if the bottle did say Rudolph’s Red Pinot.

Ella reached for her glass and took a hesitant sniff. “You really have to be careful with everything you get in this town. Just because it has a cute Christmas label doesn’t mean it’s any good.”

He’d thought the same thing, which was why he’d opened the bottle and sampled the wine before she’d come down. Lucky for him, it wasn’t just good, it was great, coming from some winery out in Oregon where they grew pinot noir grapes exclusively and knew what they were doing.

She took a small sip, then shrugged as she set her glass back down. “I guess it’s not that bad.”

Tate grinned as he sat across from her and shook out his napkin. “I’m sure Norah will be thrilled to know you approve.”

Ella rolled her eyes as he reached for the silver cover over her plate. “Trust me, Norah didn’t come down here for any reason but to check you out. Everyone in town is curious how the local Scrooge got a rock star to—”

Her words cut off as she stared down at her plate, and her mouth fell open in surprise. Then a slow smile spread across her face, followed by the sweetest laugh Tate had ever heard.

“Oh my God,” she said. “Where did you find Kraft macaroni and cheese? We don’t have that in the kitchen.”

Tate’s grin widened as he took the cover off his plate and set both on the table beside them. “I had to drive over to Asheville this morning to find it. The grocery store in this town doesn’t carry normal food.”

“That’s because the noodles aren’t shaped like snowmen or reindeer or elves.” She placed both hands on the table and shook her head as she stared at the mac and cheese molded into the shape of a heart. “I can’t believe you remember this.”

She’d served it to him just like this that summer they’d spent together. She’d only been a teenager then, hadn’t known how to cook much of anything, but that meal had been the best one he’d ever had. Because she’d made it just for him. “I remember a lot of things, Ella.”

Her smile faded as she glanced up. And when their eyes locked across the table, that same spark of heat he’d felt last night when she stared at him across the bar flared hot and bright.

She swallowed hard, looked down, and quickly reached for her fork. “Well, then you probably remember that the noodles were overcooked. Which is the main reason I pay my chef well, so he’ll stick around. This pub would crash and burn if I had to cook.”

She lifted a bite to her mouth and chewed, careful, he noticed, not to look at him. But the nervous expression crossing her smooth features made him relax, and in a rush, he knew he’d been right. There was still something simmering between them. She felt it as strongly as he did.

“So,” she said as she moved the noodles around on her plate. “I thought you said you had a gig in Miami.”

Tate swallowed a sip of wine and set his glass down. “I do. But not until Christmas Day. I can catch a flight out of Asheville that morning.”

Her fork stilled. “You’re staying until Christmas morning?”

“I’m considering it. What do you think?”

Nerves rushed over her features. “Tate. I—”

He was pushing her. A little too fast. He didn’t want to give her any reason to run. He scooped up a bite. “So I met Gillian McKinley today.”

Her mouth snapped closed.

“Nice woman. Gave me a big hug.”

Ella slowly set her fork on the table before wringing her hands together in her lap. “Look, Tate. I think you need to know that Gillian—”

“I know who she is, Ella.”

Surprise flickered in her dark eyes. “You do?”

He nodded. “I also know what happened two years ago on Christmas Eve. I also know it wasn’t your fault. I’ve met a lot of people in this crazy town and not a single one of them blames you for it. You have to stop blaming yourself too.”

Her eyes fell closed, and her shoulders dropped. “That’s easier said than done.”

He hated that he couldn’t take her heartache away, that she had to live with it at all. If he hadn’t walked away from her nine years ago, she never would have been in that accident to start with. Of course, then she never would have met and fallen in love with her husband.

A place in his chest tightened. “What was he like?”

She exhaled a long breath. “Steady. Dependable. All he wanted to do was live in this town, run this bar, and raise a family.”

She opened her eyes and stared at a spot on the tablecloth. “He was also persistent. I never planned to come to Holly. I was only driving through when I had car trouble and got stuck. At the time, I hadn’t wanted to call my mother because…well, we’d just had this big fight. Calling her would have been admitting she was right, which I just didn’t want to do, you know?”

A sad smile spread across Tate’s lips as he swirled the wine in his glass. Ella had been raised by a single, workaholic mother who’d never supported Ella’s dream of painting. She’d wanted Ella to go to college and study law or medicine, two things that made Ella see red.