Riley Maylon
LINK
I looked at Lexi hopefully as I waited to hear what she’d say to my invitation to coffee.
The smile she’d been giving me tightened at the corners.
“Oh, thanks, I appreciate the offer,” she said. “That’s real nice of you and all…”
But…
“But I can’t see clients outside the center,” she said.
Clients?
Ugh. Of course.
She thinks I’m just another fucked-up vet she needs to teach how to relax.
Lexi reached out and grabbed my hand, giving it a little squeeze. My heart skipped.
“But you come on back next week, now, y’hear? And Wednesday, too. I look forward to seeing you.”
With an awkward laugh, she did a little shrugging movement and exited, leaving me standing alone in the big hall.
The air conditioner, which had fallen silent at some point, rumbled on again.
I looked around, unsure of what to do.
I didn’t come here looking for a date.
I came for…some kind of support.
Guess I did find that.
With a sigh, I rubbed my face with both hands.
Unpleasant, nervous energy was bubbling up now that the relaxation from the session was wearing off.
I need to go for a run.
Glancing down at my shorts and sneakers, I thought, Well, why not. No time like the present.
I grabbed a bottle of water from the vending machine on my way out of the VFW, and I chugged it.
Moments later, I was outside, finding my pace, steadying my breathing.
The air was hot and humid. September was the worst for humidity in Nashville. My T-shirt was soon soaked with sweat as I jogged down the sidewalk.
I pushed my pace a little faster, turning often to avoid stopping at intersections.
As the rhythm settled in, I let my mind wander.
And of course, it went back to Lexi.
Better her than Rowan and my nightmare.
I felt drawn to Lexi.
Since signing my papers, I’d felt like I was looking at everyone through a piece of plastic wrap.
But not Lexi.
Lexi was right there.
Every time she touched me, I felt like a live wire.
But all she saw when she looked at me was a damaged vet who needed her help.
If that was all she saw, it was hopeless. I might as well move on.
But how could I just throw aside that feeling of connection?
A T-junction forced me to stop, and I heaved as I took the opportunity to stretch.
Across the street, two women walked a dog, chatting. One sipped from a to-go cup.
They weren’t unattractive, but they did nothing for me.
Lexi had made an impression right away at that bar.
She was special.
I couldn’t just let that go.
LEXI
Kiara and I rolled our eyes at each other as we hurried around the diner, trying to get ahead of the chaos of the Sunday morning brunch rush.
Folks took their Sunday brunch seriously here at the Rise & Shine.
“And what’ll y’all be having?” I asked a table with two harried-looking parents with far too many children.
Moments later, I was headed into the kitchen to make milkshakes—milkshakes on a Sunday morning, but who was I to judge?—when Evan, the busboy, ran into me.
“Oh, sorry,” I said.
Evan, a lean, tanned guy with short brown hair, smirked. “Anytime, Miss Lexi. Running into you is the best part of this job.”
I tried to laugh, but Evan was getting increasingly forward.
“Glad I didn’t injure you,” I said, knowing he’d run into me on purpose.
“Well, I may have tweaked my shoulder,” Evan said. “You could make it up to me. I heard you’ve got your massage license and all.”
While that was true, there was no way in hell I was going to give Evan’s shoulder—or any other part of him—a “massage.”
“I can recommend a good chiropractor,” I said and pushed past him.
Kiara met me by the shake machine.
“Evan after you again?” she asked.
She was pretty, with straightened bangs over one eye and dark skin she knew how to complement with her clothes.
More importantly, she was a good friend who had no patience for nonsense.
“Yes,” I breathed.
My heart was racing, and I took a moment to breathe in on eight, hold for four, and breathe out for four.
“What did he want this time?” Kiara asked as I was exhaling.
“A massage for the shoulder he claims I just injured.”
Kiara rolled her eyes and shook her head. She moved past me to the large tray of rolls, grabbing the tongs to put some in the basket on her tray.
“Reminds me of the time that old guy started telling me all about what a catch he was,” she said, “and how all he wanted was a nice girl like me who’d give him scalp rubs.”
“A ‘scalp rub,’ huh?” I snorted, then started on the milkshakes. “I had a guy who used to come in on crutches. He’d drop his napkin and ask me to pick it up. Like, five times in one meal!”
“Girl, you know he was tryna see down your shirt!” Kiara laughed. “Oh, and there was that one old fella who wanted to buy me dinner every time he’d come in?”
“Oh, yeah, that guy! He’d always compliment me on my ‘blouse,’” I laughed.
“Girl, same.”
She winked at me and made her way back out.
I followed her holding a milkshake in each hand.
Funny, I didn’t mind it so much when Lincoln had asked me out.
I should mind. He’s a client.
But he’s also really good-looking.
“I’m telling you, I cannot wait to take my AMCB exam,” Kiara was saying. The AMCB exam was to certify nurse-midwives. “April cannot come soon enough.”
“Six months,” I said as we passed out through the kitchen doors into the restaurant.
“By then, you’ll have finished your hours too,” Kiara said.
We split up, and I went and deposited the milkshakes while Kiara served up the rolls.
After checking in with two more tables, I met up with her again heading back into the kitchen.
“You figure out what comes after the VFW yet?” she asked as she filled a pitcher of orange juice.
“Well, find a job,” I replied as I loaded my tray with table five’s order. “Maybe with them, maybe somewhere else. Hopefully working with trauma survivors, in a place where they let me incorporate bodywork.”
Kiara nodded. “I guess I’ll be doing something like that for a while, you know, working out of a women’s clinic. But I want to have a private practice eventually.”
“My dream is to start my own wellness center. Maybe you can be our women’s health specialist or something like that.”
Kiara grinned. “All we need is a building, staff, money, and clients. Piece of cake.”
I headed back out to the restaurant, cheered by thoughts of the future. I wouldn’t have to deal with the Evans of the world forever.
LINK
Things were still a little tense between Rowan and me, and he was walking a few steps behind me across the parking lot of the Rise & Shine Diner when I came to a complete stop.
“What…,” Rowan said.
“A fully restored, candy apple red, 1950 Honda Rebel, that’s what,” I said to him, my eyes caressing the beauty of the motorcycle in front of me.
I added reverently, “All the original chrome work.”
Rowan tsked and shook his head. “Cheating on your truck, Link. I never would have imagined.”
“Ah, but this baby would make a helluva mistress, wouldn’t she?” I said, my hand hovering over the seat.
Rowan chuckled, but he crossed his arms over his chest. “Clean the drool off your face, bro. Time to go drool over those pancakes you suddenly decided you had to have.”
I tore my gaze away from the Honda Rebel and trailed after him into the diner.
I hadn’t told him Lexi would be there.
As Rowan came to a stop waiting in line for the hostess, he spotted her, though.
“Isn’t that…?”
I gave him a shit-eating grin.
“You dog. That’s why you were craving pancakes.”
The lingering concern cleared off his face.
I chuckled. It was good to have Rowan teasing me again. Things were going back to normal.
“What a coincidence,” I said unconvincingly. “Who knew she worked here?”
“Welcome to the Rise & Shine, how many in your party?” The hostess had a dyed-black pixie cut and a name tag that said “Amber.”
Rowan charmed her, as he often did with soon-to-be-disappointed straight women.
“Well, Amber, it’s just me and my ape of a brother here. Think you can seat us in—” he glanced at me.
“Lexi.”
“—in Lexi’s section?”
He beamed at her with the full force of his baby blues.
Amber blushed and grinned.
“Well, I think the couple at table two are finishing up,” she said.
“Table two sounds just perfect, thanks,” Rowan said. With a wink at her, he turned back to me.
“I thought you said she shot you down,” he whispered.
I shrugged. “You always told me I was stubborn.”
LEXI
I hurried from table two, where the couple was getting ready to go, to table four.
“Good morning, sir,” I said to the older gentleman with receding gray hair and beady eyes who sat there.
“I’ll have a pitcher of Bloody Mary and a Denver omelet,” he said without acknowledging the greeting. “Don’t dilly dally.”
I smiled, thinking he was teasing, but a look at his face told me, Nope. He’s serious.
“Sure thing,” I said, and headed to get that pitcher. Maybe the Bloody Marys would help him mellow out some.
After dropping off the drink, I turned back to table two, where two men were settling in.
My heart did a little skip when I realized who one of them was.
“Well hey, Link,” I said.
He gave me a sheepish grin. “You mentioned you worked here, so I figured it must be good.”
“Ah,” I said, raising my eyebrows.
Guess you don’t take “no” for an answer, huh.
“I’m just—uh—” he stammered.
“What my oaf of a brother is trying to say is that he’s got a massive crush on you and he’s hoping you’ll make an exception to your no-clients policy,” the blond guy with him said smoothly.
Link paled and then looked at me to see my reaction.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Link threw a punch into the blond’s arm across the table. “My brother. Picture of discretion, here.”
I tried to smother a smile. “I guess I’m flattered.”
LINK
I felt a tightness in my chest ease as I saw her eyes sparkle.
She handed us menus and took our drink orders, promising to be back in a bit.
When she was gone, I turned a glare on Rowan.
“You were going into Neanderthal-ugh mode, Link.”
I rubbed my eyes in frustration, but I knew he was right.
“Do you think she will?” I asked. “Make an exception for me, I mean?”
Rowan shrugged as he took in the menu. “Hell if I know. At least they have Eggs Florentine.”
I sighed. “You know—”
I was interrupted by a clinking noise followed by Lexi’s raised voice.
“Hey,” she was saying as an older guy holding a Bloody Mary grabbed her wrist.
Anger flooded me immediately.
Lexi stepped back, but the guy still clung to her wrist, the red liquid sloshing in the glass he held in his other hand.
“Sir!” she said.
“I won’t abide being disrespected!” the old guy was saying. “I ordered the Denver omelet, and I expect to have mushrooms on it—”
He was pulling her toward him.
“Link, sit down!” Rowan said, grabbing at my arm.
Before I even knew what I was doing, I was out of my seat and standing over him, hauling back my fist.