Stephanie Bond – Baby, Don't Go (страница 11)
Her closeness unnerved him.
She looked supremely annoyed. “Do you want my help or not?”
He frowned. “Okay.”
She stepped next to him and, bristling, they worked practically hip to hip. Marcus was aware of every inch of her…and how was it possible that her light, sweet perfume cut through the strong odors of the food cooking?
He’d never thought of arms as sexy, but hers were—long and shapely, ending in pretty hands that seemed better suited to office work than the harsh environment of handling food and detergents. Her slim bare wrist reminded him of the bracelet he’d found in the creek, the one he was still trying to find a way to return to her without raising a red flag.
She sighed. “What?”
He turned his head, a mistake because this close, her big brown eyes were so deep, he almost tripped. “What?”
Alicia frowned. “You’re staring at my hands, so I’m obviously doing something wrong.”
He scrambled for an excuse. “You shouldn’t turn pancakes more than once.”
Her shoulders went back. “Really? Is that another town rule? I’ve never seen so many rules in my life as this place has.”
He frowned. “No, it’s not a rule. It’s just something my mother always said.”
Her shoulders softened. “Oh.” She turned back to the grill and loosened the cooking eggs with a metal utensil. “Is your mother still living?”
“Yes.”
“Does she live here?”
“No.”
Alicia gave a little laugh. “Getting information out of you is like pulling teeth.”
He squinted. “Why do you want information?”
“I don’t. I mean…I was just making conversation.” She looked away, and Marcus felt like a jerk.
“After the tornado, she moved north of Atlanta to live with her sister,” he offered. “But she’s moving back to Sweetness Homecoming weekend.”
“That’s nice,” she mumbled.
He’d hurt her feelings—Jesus, women were sensitive. “It’s sort of a milestone for all of us,” he added, turning the sausage. “One of the reasons we wanted to rebuild the town was so my mother could come back home.”
Her expression turned wistful. “Your family must be close.”
“We are,” he conceded. “My father passed away when I was a teenager, but my brothers and I are close to our mother.” He kept turning the food, and suddenly missed her conversation. “Do you have family?”
She took her time responding. “I have my parents. They divorced when I was young.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, unable to imagine a life where his parents hadn’t lived together and loved each other.
Another shrug. “Some people just aren’t meant to be together. Besides, marriage is an outdated institution.”
Marcus agreed that these days marriage seemed to be more of a gamble than a promise, but the truth sounded bleak coming out of the mouth of a young, attractive woman.
“You’ve tried it?” he asked. “Marriage, I mean.”
She looked horrified. “No.”
He frowned. “Yesterday you seemed to be looking for a man.”
She blanched and seemed to catch herself. “Yes, but I…I don’t necessarily want to get married.” She seemed nervous. “Have you ever been married?”
He let out a bitter laugh. “Not me.”
“Ah, so we agree on one thing.”
They did, yet for some reason it rankled him. “No brothers and sisters?” he asked to change the subject.
“Nope,” she said in a way that closed the topic. She transferred two pancakes to a plate and handed it to him to add the sausages.
He rolled the hot pancakes around the links, then secured them with a toothpick and passed the plate off to Sheila. Alicia served up the eggs on another plate, but seemed preoccupied. He felt a pang for her, that she’d never experienced the security of a close-knit family.
The door opened and Porter and Kendall walked in, shooting grins in his direction.
Sometimes, though, he felt as if his family was
“I like the apron,” Porter said as he bellied up to the counter.
Marcus brushed at crumbs on the front of the camouflage-print apron he wore. “Shut up.”
“What, no hair net?” Kendall asked as he slid onto the stool next to Porter.
Marcus sent a glare his way, too. “If I have to box your ears right here in public, I will.”
Kendall laughed. “Relax, Marcus. We’re just giving you a hard time. We’re glad you took over this place.”
Porter made a rueful noise. “Molly, on the other hand…”
Marcus sighed. “How is she?”
“She’s stubborn, like you. She’s working in the lost and found warehouse, sure that you’ll come crawling back when you get fed up.”
Remorse shot through Marcus—he felt indebted to Molly for her loyalty, but he’d given her as much leeway as he could to make the transition from running a military-inspired mess hall to running a civilian-friendly diner. He’d have to figure out a way to make it up to her.
Alicia walked up holding the glass coffeepot. “Coffee?” she asked his brothers.
They turned over the clean coffee cups sitting on the counter in front of them.
“Sure.”
“Yes, thanks.”
They both seemed wary of the coffee and intrigued by his new manager at the same time. He could see they were brimming with questions.
“I’m Alicia Waters,” she offered with a smile that she’d never extended to him.
“Porter Armstrong.”
“Kendall Armstrong.”
“The boss’s brothers?” she asked.
Porter arched an eyebrow in his direction and Kendall wiped away a smile with his hand. “Yes, we’re the boss’s brothers.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said.
“Same here.”
“Likewise.”
She walked away and both men pushed away their coffee cups.
“Go ahead, take a drink,” Marcus encouraged.
Porter held up his hand. “No, thanks. The last time I drank coffee in here, it took the hide off my tongue.”
“Ditto,” Kendall said. “My mouth was numb for a week.”
“Just try it,” Marcus said.