Order Up, page 3
“I’ll drop your body bag off at the diner later,” I say, needing her to leave. Needing space to get my head on straight. Needing time to figure out my next move.
Gran waits as the two sisters head to a maroon SUV parked at the edge of the airstrip before she turns her steely gray eyes on me. “You’re not fooling me, Mason.” Her strict tone is laced with compassion, though she’d never outright admit it.
“Wouldn’t dream of trying.” I busy myself with the plane, focusing on my post-flight tasks. I don’t have any flights scheduled for the next couple of days and need to close everything up.
“The sooner she leaves, the better off you’ll be. Of course, there’s always other options. I know a guy—”
I set Willow’s cinder block filled suitcase on the ground and turn to envelope Gran in a hug. She’s raised my sister and me since I was seven years old, after my mom passed. She’s fiercely protective and means well. “Gran, you’re not allowed to hire a hitman.”
“I do look terrible in orange.”
CHAPTER 7
Willow
Why did I lie?
I rest my head against the glass as Kinley drives through town. The past I’ve tried so hard to forget comes flooding back with each building we pass. I used to sit on the concrete steps outside the bank with my sisters and suck on the tiny lollipops we pilfered. Mason stole my first kiss in the shadowed alcove of the library. We celebrated our engagement with half the town at the Caribou Creek Brewery down the street.
I could’ve come clean about my agent dumping me, but I can’t stand the thought of Kinley or Maggs knowing I’ve failed at my biggest dream. Truth be told, I had planned to tell Mason the truth before he turned to a coldhearted asshole last night. I thought he’d climb into bed with me after fucking me so thoroughly. But no. That jackass slept in his uncomfortable chair, and my walls went right back up.
Now, the whole town’s going to think I’m starring in some movie. A lead role, Willow? Really? Oh well. In a few days, I hope to be on my way back to pick up the pieces and rebuild my acting career. Mason’s right. I’m going to leave. Why make things any harder than they have to be?
“What’s wrong with Grandma Rose?” I ask Kinley, fully expecting her to lecture me before spitting out the answer as she drives us into town.
“I don’t know.”
That causes me to sit up. She’s the oldest of us sisters. The one who took over raising us after our mother ran off with some guy to Vegas. She makes it a point to know what’s going on. A very firm, annoying point. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“Grandma Rose has been tight-lipped since I showed up. Said she wasn’t telling us anything until you got here.” The sharpness of her tone stings, as it should. We were close once. She was going to be my maid of honor, but I didn’t tell her I was jilting. She’s never forgiven me for that. “Jesus, even Aurora showed up before you.”
“Well, I’m here now.”
“Until your next acting role takes you away for another three years. Or will one of us have to die before you come home again?”
“You don’t live here either,” I retort, recalling that she last tagged Anchorage as where she lived on social media. She unfriended me after weeks of refusing to answer her calls, but I’ve still been able to stalk a few public details on her profile. Along with a picture of a handsome guy I can only assume is her boyfriend. Of course, if Kinley ran off and eloped in my absence, why would she tell me?
“I meant Alaska.” Kinley slams on the brake pedal at a stop sign, sending me flying toward the dashboard. I catch it with my palm.
“What the hell, Kin—” But my annoyance is all but forgotten when I see the two-story white stone theater all boarded up. A for sale sign in the front show window. My heart cracks in two at the sight of it. Not only have I performed in countless school plays on that stage, but I was also directing them before I left. I was supposed to hold auditions after my honeymoon for a play I’d written and planned to direct.
“Things wither and die when you abandon them,” Kinley mutters, turning a sharp corner. She doesn’t just mean the theater. A block later, we’re at the diner.
“Why are we here? I thought Grandma Rose was sick.”
“Well, if she is, she hasn’t slowed down any.” The full parking lot can attest to that. The second she parks, Kinley’s phone explodes in a series of chimes from the inside of her purse. She closes her eyes and takes a deep inhale before reaching into her purse and shutting off the ringer. I catch a quick glimpse of the name Derek. Before I can ask, she pushes her door open. “C’mon. Aurora’s already inside.”
The diner looks exactly the same as it did the last time I saw it, more than three years ago. The same as it did when I was a little kid. Grandma Rose always did love the checkerboard floor, red upholstered booths, and chrome accents. Almost as much as I loved the mini jukeboxes growing up. I used to sweet-talk the morning coffee drinkers out of quarters so I could play my favorite songs before the school bus whisked me away.
The nostalgia is almost enough to blind me to the stares. But there’s too many sets of eyes looking up from dozens of tables. The roar of conversation has quieted to a dull buzz. Whispers. I gulp a swallow, and fall into the role of a woman who’s proud to come back to her hometown a winner.
Despite my award-winning smile and friendly waves, I hear murmurs about my stilettos and faux leather leggings. No doubt I look a little like death warmed over from a night spent in a fishing cabin without running water.
“Hurry up,” Kinley mutters, tugging me by the hand.
“Willow!” Grandma Rose spots me from the pass-through to the kitchen and hands her spatula to some teenager I don’t recognize. She leans in and whispers something to the kid, then hurries to greet me with a grease-stained apron and suffocating hug. “You made it. I heard you were stranded with Mason last night.”
“Say that a little louder?” I mutter only loud enough for her to hear after three nearby tables snap their attention our way.
“We knew you were safe. Well, we didn’t know if Mason would—you know, never mind.” Grandma Rose pulls back and wipes her hands on her apron, as if hugging me has somehow dirtied them. I really need a mirror. Or maybe it’s best I don’t see how terrifying I look right now. “Girls!”
I spot my baby sister with a plate-filled tray balanced on one hand by a corner booth. She turns her head so quickly the tray wobbles. Her face lights up at the sight of me. At least someone is excited to see me. She attempts to wave, which is her downfall. I watch in horror as her full tray tips and an entire breakfast platter spills in the lap of Garrett Bradley, covering his police uniform in scrambled eggs and melted butter.
“For god’s sake,” Grandma Rose mutters, grabbing a towel from the kitchen. “You two, in the office. I’ll be right there.”
I follow Kinley into a cramped office that looks even more cluttered than I last remembered it. My sister has to be dying in side from the lack of organization in here.
“What movie?” Kinley asks.
“What?”
“You said you’ve got a lead role.” She pins me with a flat stare, her expression blank bordering on unimpressed. “What’s the name of the movie?”
“No congratulations? Or I’m so happy for you, this is your dream come true?” I shouldn’t press my luck, but I’ve never been good at shutting the hell up when I should.
She takes a big step toward me and gets right in my face. A finger jabs hard into my shoulder. But she ignores my cry. “Did you know I was the one who found your note?”
“I—”
“That I was the one who had to tell Mason you ran away?”
Oh shit. “I didn’t—”
“Of course you didn’t! You didn’t stick around to watch everything fall apart—”
“I’m sorry, Grandma Rose.” Aurora’s pouty voice interrupts us as the office becomes even tighter.
“Accidents happen, sweetie.” Grandma Rose shoves her way in and closes the door behind her. The little office is way too cramped for the four of us. I don’t understand why we’re here or why this conversation can’t happen at her house. Maybe she wants to make sure none of us bolt. “Now look, I don’t have long. It’s a madhouse out there.”
“What’s going on Grandma Rose?” I implore. “Are you dying?”
Kinley whaps me hard with the back of her hand, the sting against my shoulder enough to make me yelp. Again. “Could you be any more insensitive, Miss Hollywood?”
“Girls, that’s enough.” Grandma Rose brings out her stern don’t-fuck-with-me-today tone. It’s enough to silence us all. We snap to attention. “This bickering needs to stop. You’re grown ass women. And family. You need to start acting like it.”
Guilt squeezes me from the inside out, reminding me why we’re here. Grandma Rose summoned us all, insisting it was a matter of life and death. That nothing we were doing was more important than getting home to Caribou Creek as quickly as possible. I got that all through a text message I didn’t see for several hours since I was in the middle of a pity-party about my roommates kicking me out and too self-absorbed to notice.
“Are you sick?” Aurora asks, sounding so much like the little girl that used to follow me everywhere.
“Nope, got a clean bill of health from the doc just last week.”
The three of us let out a collective sigh of relief.
“Then what’s wrong?” I ask delicately, anticipating another whap from Kinley that doesn’t come. But I flinch anyway.
“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong.” We stare at our grandma, all equally confused. “I recently came into a lot of money and am taking a world cruise. I need you three to run the diner while I’m traveling.”
CHAPTER 8
Mason
After a long shower where I jerk off to the memory of fucking Willow last night, I head to the diner to drop off her suitcase and meet Wes Ashburn. I forgot all about the appointment until he shot me a text an hour ago. I was tempted to reschedule, but he was insistent. Said I’d want to hear what he had to say.
Wes runs the local brewery with his brothers, but he’s recently acquired his real estate license. Most of the transactions he does are personal, but he’s been my go-to for the commercial property I’ve been buying up, including the fishing cabins along the river.
Kinley’s car is locked, so I leave the suitcase in the back of my truck. I see Wes at a booth through the window and head instead. I can’t decide if I want to avoid Willow or if I’m desperate to see her again. To corner her and slip my hand down the front of her leggings and my tongue down her throat. God that pussy was so fucking wet.
My dick twitches at the memory.
Down, fucker. We’re in public. I discreetly adjust my jeans and head inside.
I make a straight line for the corner booth, scanning the diner for any hint of Willow. It’s part old habit, part involuntary.
“Hey, got you a cup of coffee.” Wes nods to a steaming, full cup. Thank fucking god. I was all out at home. There isn’t enough coffee in the whole fucking state of Alaska to get me through this day, and I’m not about to turn down what I can get my hands on.
“Thanks.”
I hear a chorus of female voices. I’m pointed right at the kitchen and lift my gaze in that direction. The three Gray sisters emerge with Rose. Willow looks the roughest of them. Tired eyes and slightly tangled hair I’m proud to have messed up while I fucked her hard—
“I know you said you weren’t interested in the old theater,” Wes says, pulling me back to the present with his low, hushed tone.
“I’m not.”
“I have an offer incoming.”
“Great news. The Bernards should be happy to have it off their hands.”
“It’s from a developer.”
“Fuck.” My mutter turns a few heads. I focus on my coffee, taking a long, hot sip before leaning in and lowering my voice. “Suppose they want to tear it down?” Though I have no interest in owning it, I know how much that place meant to Willow. It’s one thing for it to be boarded up. It’s another for it not to exist at all.
“They’re thinking about gutting it. Turning it into an outdoor outfitters store.”
“A tourist trap, you mean.”
Wes shrugs. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
“Can I take your—oh hey, Mason!” Aurora Gray attacks me with a hug before I even know what hits me. The last time I saw her was at the wedding that never happened. But she was always like a baby sister to me. Ever since I started dating Willow, back when I was fifteen. “I’ve missed you!”
“Hey, Aurora.”
“Does Willow know you’re here?” She means well, but her innocent declaration turns half the heads in the diner.
“You didn’t hear?” Wes asks her. “They were stranded together last night.”
“Oh no! No wonder Willow’s in such a growly mood.” She pulls out her pad and pen. “I better take your order before Grandma Rose gets mad. I’m so bad at this waitressing thing.” She looks like a kicked puppy. A look I remember well. Despite her best intentions, trouble seems to follow Aurora wherever she goes. “What would you like?”
After we place our order, Wes turns his expression serious. “I’ve already presented the offer to the Bernards. They have forty-eight hours to respond. They didn’t want to make a decision until I’d followed up with every possible lead I had. They don’t want to see it torn down, but they’re ready to retire.”
He doesn’t have to say the rest. They can’t afford to refuse it either. The place, even empty, is costing them a small fortune to own. “Fuck,” I mutter, scrubbing a hand down my face. “You got any other leads?”
“Just you.”
I chew on that thought for a bit, sipping my coffee until my mug’s empty. Before I can flag someone down for more, Willow appears at the table side. Dammit if my pulse doesn’t double instantly. Her intoxicating lavender scent will fucking haunt me for a lifetime if I don’t convince her to stay in Caribou Creek.
“Do you have my suitcase?”
“In my truck.”
“Thank you,” she says flatly, marching off before I can offer to help.
“Be right back,” I say to Wes, following Willow outside.
“I can get it,” she calls to me, kicking off her heels and climbing in the bed of my truck in those damn stilettos. How many times have I watched her get in my truck bed? Dozens? Hundreds? So many of those ended up with her coming. Me too, on some occasions. But it was always more fun to spoil her.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” I say, hopping up into the bed and joining her.
“I’m not helpless.”
“Didn’t say you were. But since your suitcase is full of cinderblocks—”
“Ha. Ha.” She narrows her eyes at me, her breath catching a second later. We’ve realized it at the same time; our bodies are hardly a feather’s width apart. Her tits brush against my chest, and dammit if my gaze doesn’t drop straight down her shirt. “Ugh! Do you think about anything else?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t want me to suck on your tits, babe.” I slip my hands onto her hips, my fingers softly pressing into the exposed flesh. Teasing her. Torturing me. What I said about getting each other out of our systems this morning was total bullshit. I could fuck her a hundred times before she leaves, and it’ll never be enough.
“Mason,” she whispers, dropping a palm flat against my chest.
I grip her hip harder and swing her behind me, moving her out of the way of the suitcase so I can grab it. The seconds of contact leave my hand burning. Some things never change.
“Jerk,” she mutters, but there’s a teasing edge to her tone.
I carry her suitcase to her sister’s car and wait for her to unlock it. “What the fuck you got in here anyway?”
“I didn’t know how long I was going to be here.” It feels like a lie. Or at least an omission. Something is more than a little wrong, and I’m determined to find out what. If I need to go to LA and beat the shit out of some asshole who hurt her, I will in a heartbeat.
I heft the suitcase into the SUV and close the back, coming around the side of the car opposite the prying eyes of half the town. I cage Willow in, my hands pressed against the car on either side of her face. I lean close, my intent to scramble her brain and break down her walls. “What aren’t you telling me, Willow?”
She flickers her gaze to meet mine, and dammit if I’m not immediately lost in those brown eyes. She bites down on her bottom lip. A tell that something is very wrong in paradise. “Mason—”
“Willow, get your ass back in this diner,” Kinley shouts, shattering the moment. “We need you in the kitchen.”
I quirk an eyebrow in question.
“Good news,” she says to me, stepping away. “Grandma Rose isn’t dying.”
I watch her hurry back inside, unable to rip away my gaze from her. Unable to keep myself from wondering what’s really going on in her life. In that moment, I know I’m a completely fucked man. “Guess I’m buying a theater.”
CHAPTER 9
Willow
It’s complete chaos at Grandma Rose’s house, which is the reason I sneak out as soon as everyone is asleep. Since the moment she threw that curve ball at me and my sisters, I’ve been restless. I’m relieved she’s not dying, but irritated that I maxed out my credit card to fly home last minute all so she could take some tour-the-world cruise.
My sisters and I know nothing about running a diner. Hell, none of us can even cook. Aurora’s a terrible waitress. Kinley’s more set on bossing everyone else around than actually working. I broke the dishwasher and had to wash hundreds of dishes by hand. All of this was with Grandma Rose. Without her? We might actually burn the place down.
I’m exhausted.
But sleep is elusive.
