Second Chance (Cold Springs Series Book 1) (11 page)

What bad could come from Sam?  She was gentle, kind, so different from the life he’d known behind bars. He didn’t deserve someone like her in his life, and the last thing he wanted was to cause her any trouble.  Ian had no idea where these feelings of protection were coming from. When had he started caring for her? How could it had happened so fast?

He could also be bad for her business.  He could drive customers away.  Maybe if he stayed in the kitchen when customers were there, and he could walk to work to avoid others seeing and recognizing his truck.  Bottom line was he was bad for Sam and bad for her business.

But he needed the money, and he couldn’t say no to her.  She needed him, and no one had needed him in a very long time.  He would just have to be very careful.

When they reached his apartment, he pulled his key from the ignition, hopped out, and held the door as Sam slid across the seat.  He picked up the bag of groceries from the truck box.  “I won’t be able to work full time.”

“Oh, I understand.  Sometimes is better than nothing, right?”

He didn’t answer.  Every time he looked at her, he felt like the same kid who knew her in high school.  Life was so innocent then.  Played out so differently than what he had planned.  He hated that arrogant kid he was before prison.  That Ian had taken everything for granted, was too cocky for his own good.  He wondered if he had never gone to prison if he would use the familiar cheesy pickup lines on Sam, possibly just use her for a one-night stand as was so common of the arrogant kid he used to be. The thought sickened him.  Sam deserved better.

He had no business working for Sam or making her dinner.  She was too good for him.  And if someone saw them together romantically, her business would be ruined.

They climbed the stairs to the deck where he sat down the bag of groceries.  His grill was a simple charcoal portable that he’d picked up at a yard sale for five dollars.  Nothing fancy, but it cooked a nice burger. 

After unlocking the door, he grabbed the seasonings for the burgers and some plates.  He noticed Sam stayed outside on the deck.  He wondered if it was because of the kiss.   Had she liked it?

“Do you see your family?” she asked when he was back on the deck.

Okay.  He hadn’t expected that.

“No.”

“Don’t they come over?”

This wasn’t something he wished to discuss, but he didn’t want to be rude to his future employer either.  “They want nothing to do with me.”

“But you defended your sister.”

He shrugged, reliving the memory of his mother throwing him out the day he’d been released.  “My father died while I was still in jail, but he refused to come see me.  My mother felt the same.  They said I’d made my bed and so lie in it.” He flipped the burgers with a long spatula.  “They were tired of hearing what the townsfolk around here said to them.  So they sold the house and moved to Watertown.  They thought being in the city would make them less of a spectacle.”

Ian didn’t blame them for that.  Cold Springs was hardly a town where people minded their own business enough not to judge.  The only reason he’d come back to Cold Springs was because of Burt.  Burt had convinced him that he belonged here, where’d he’d always lived, and Burt had been the only one to help him out.  Ian’s past was what it was.  There was no changing people, so the only thing he could do was try to change how he felt about what others thought of him.  And right now the only person whose opinion mattered was Sam.

The thought surprised him, scared him.  He had no right to feel anything toward her.  However, in the past few days what she thought of him mattered a great deal.  It shouldn’t, but it did. 

The burgers done, he flipped them onto a plate and took them inside where he set them on the counter.  They each dished up a plate and sat on the sofa. 

“I can’t believe Burt was actually carrying two thousand dollars cash in his wallet.”  Sam took a bite of her burger, ketchup squirting out the side of her mouth.  It was cute and adorable, and he fought the urge to lean over and wipe it away. Or lick it off with his tongue.

The thought made him hard almost immediately. He couldn’t recall his last sexual encounter. Before incarceration, sex had always been a physical release. Emotions never had to be factored in. However, spending so much time locked up did something to a person. Made him want things, permanent things like respect, understanding, and companionship with a woman.  A woman like Sam.

He watched her wipe the ketchup off her face with a paper towel.

“Burt gets a good pension from the phone company.  Trouble is, he spends it as soon as the check comes.”

“On what?”

“He goes out to eat nearly every meal.”

“He can’t be spending all of it. Otherwise he wouldn’t have had two thousand dollars in his wallet.”

“True.”

Ian chuckled. 

It was the first time he’d laughed in ten years.  And it felt good.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The morning rush was busier than Sam had hoped and showed no sign of slowing well after noon.  If not for Martha and Ian, Sam didn’t know how she would have gotten through it.  Everyone wanted something all the time, and Sam’s feet had never ached so much in her life.  She had decided to stay open from the hours of five a.m. to three in the afternoon.  Burt had complained because he wanted it open for dinner too, but then again complaining seemed to make Burt happy, regardless.

Chrissy arrived at one just as Martha was leaving her shift.  She wandered aimlessly around the dining room saying hi to the people she knew and introducing herself to the ones she did not.  A couple of customers had asked her if she was the new owner.  She giggled and explained that she couldn’t run a restaurant because she was going to college and wasn’t sure what she wanted to do when she graduated.  She went on about how she liked being a waitress, but it wasn’t something she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

The men loved her.

“Sam!” Ian called from the kitchen. 

Sam hurried in to see what he wanted.  He had at least a dozen burgers going on the grill.  He was someone who definitely knew his way around a kitchen. 

“I can’t read this one.” He pointed his spatula to the handwritten order hanging in front of him.

Sam plucked it down and studied it, making out nothing.  This was the fourth one today. 

She hurried to the dining room and called Chrissy over. 

Chrissy was all smiles.  “Hi, Sam.”

“Here’s another one.  What does this say?”

Chrissy took the slip, studied it and laughed.  “I don’t know.  I can’t make out my own writing.  I’ll go ask again. Sorry.”

“Try to remember to take time to write legibly the first time. It saves customers time which is especially important if they’re in a hurry. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Sam was wiping down the counter when her mother came in.  A rush of warmth filled her, which was immediately followed by guilt.  Sam never expected Mother to support her efforts on opening day. 

Mother sat at the counter, where Sam had a cup of coffee waiting for her.  “Hi, Mom. Thanks for coming.”

“I need to talk to you immediately, young lady!”

“What’s wrong?”  Use of the term
young lady
was always serious and usually had something to do with Theresa.

Mother leaned over the counter, speaking in the loudest whisper she’d ever heard.  “Like you don’t know!  I heard about you and Ian Woods.  It’s all over town!”

“What is?”

“That you went to your high school reunion with him.  Tonya Perkins heard it from Mary Atkins.  How can you be so foolish?”

“Mom, I have no idea who those people are.”

“Everyone’s talking.  Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Not really.  Talk is a good thing.  Maybe it will bring more customers in.”

Mother looked like she was going to explode. Without even taking a sip of her coffee, she stood up and silently left.

“Mom!” Sam called after her.  “Mom, please stay and finish your coffee.”

Her mother brushed her off with a wave of her hand.

Sam sighed. 

Not half an hour passed before Theresa came in.   Irritation hit Sam fast and hard.  For once, she’d like to have a disagreement with her mother without her sister butting her nose in.

Sam put on her best fake smile.

“Hello, lovely sister.  Would you like to hear about our specials?”

“Don’t play games with me, Sam.”  Theresa took Sam by the arm and pulled her over by the coat rack.  “Mom’s in tears.  I hope you’re happy.”

“Actually, no.  I’m not happy.” Sam pulled out of Theresa’s grip.   “I thought she’d come here to support me on my opening day.  I had hoped that both she and you would be here because you were happy for me.” 

“How can you do this to Mom?”

Sam turned and headed to the kitchen.  “I don’t have time for this.”

She made it into the storage room before bursting into tears.

~ * ~

Ian heard the sound coming from the storeroom. His first thought was that Chrissy was crying about something incidental once again, and he chose to ignore it, but then he saw Chrissy walk into the kitchen and the sound persisted.

Setting down the spatula and turning the grill down, he went to investigate.  Sam was perched on a stack of tomato sauce cans, her shoulder sagging with each breath. Instinctively, he put his hands on her shoulders. She tensed then relaxed as soon as she realized who it was.

He squatted down beside her. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” She frantically rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. She started to stand but Ian caught her in an embrace and pulled her down into his lap. It happened too fast, too naturally, as if he’d been holding her so intimately for a lifetime.

“What’s wrong?” He gently rubbed her back.

“Nothing. Everything. My mother. She’s just…and Theresa.”

“It’ll get better.”

“It’s always been like this.” She shook her head. “Now just…being here. I have to deal with it more often.”

“Me being here isn’t helping, honey.” It was the first time he’d ever called her by any term of endearment. He hadn’t meant to. It had just slipped out, but he liked how it had sounded.

“You being here has nothing to do with it.”

“Yes, it does. I heard your mother talking, remember?”

She didn’t answer and he didn’t know what else to say. He should quit and run like hell out of her life as fast as possible. It would be the best thing for her. He certainly wasn’t doing her any favors by staying.

He pulled her close and hugged her again. “I better get back to work.”

~ * ~

By day’s end, Sam didn’t think her feet had ever hurt more.  Not just her feet, every part of her body ached.  To think that she used to spend her days in stilettos now just seemed ridiculous and…just so long ago.

Chrissy had been the first to leave because she had a class to catch.  Burt had stayed all morning, loudly explaining to her which customers would be the “good ones,” meaning who tipped well and which were the ones who deserved eggshells dumped in their breakfast. Burt had set up a fixed time every Wednesday to meet the guys here to discuss the important gossip of the day as well as pensions, baseball games, and of course, Chrissy.  Chrissy attracted more men that Sam had ever witnessed.  Problem was, they were all over sixty-five and dirty old men who only bought coffee. 

Martha opened tomorrow and for that Sam was thankful.  Martha knew her way around the kitchen and ran the place like a tightly run ship, and Sam felt totally inadequate next to her.  Someone like Martha should be the one to inherit a diner, certainly not Sam.  Sam had a feeling she’d have a better organized day than today at least.

Ian emerged from the kitchen.  His T-shirt was drenched in sweat and sticking to him like a second skin.  Sam had never had a thing for guys who needed showers, but Ian was incredibly sexy right now, and if anyone was interested in him showering, it was her.  With him.

An embarrassing thought.  Lord Almighty, what would Mother and Theresa think?

“Thanks for everything you did today.” She coughed.  “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“No problem.”

“You’re really organized in the kitchen.”

“Had to be.  We fed hundreds of inmates.”

Sam couldn’t get used to his offhanded use of the word inmate.  Prison life was just same ol’ for Ian.  Of course, when you spent ten years there, it would be.  But how could it be? She didn’t like thinking of Ian in a place like that.  He deserved better.  He deserved a better life and to not have others gossiping about him all the time. 

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” she asked him.  It was nearly two o’clock. 

“I got a deck to fix.  Matt Goings called me last night and asked for me to stop over and give him an estimate.”  He poured himself a cup of coffee.  “How about you?”

“I’m going to clean up here then check stock.  I have a feeling we used more supplies today than I expected.”

“That’s good, right?  You packed the place this morning.”

“Definitely.”  She smiled.  She hadn’t expected to have such a turn out on opening day.  It filled her with an unfamiliar sense of pride and accomplishment. Aunt Jean would definitely be proud and happy to see her diner successful again.

The air between them suddenly became charged.  All day they’d made small talk, as if tripping over an elephant in the room.  Sam wondered if not for Ian’s imprisonment if he would be in her life at all.  She wondered when the last time he’d been with a woman had been. The thought both surprised and shocked her.  She hadn’t been with anyone in a very, very long time. 

Things between her and Chet had not been platonic, but she couldn’t recall the last time they’d been intimate either.  It didn’t matter.  Chet hadn’t seen a future with her, and in the end, it had simply made her feel used. She had no intention of doing that again.  Even if she had to live the life of a nun.  It was better than being disappointed from expectations that had never been there the whole time.

“Did you ever get, um…attacked in prison?”

His look was one of sheer surprise.  He raised one eyebrow, and Sam knew that he knew exactly what she was talking about.  She shouldn’t have asked. “Not in the way you think.”

“I’m, uh…sorry.”

“It happens, but I got tough fast.  You learn to keep your head down, do your work, and if anyone tries to mess with you, you mess them up first.  The answer is no.”

With that, he plucked his baseball cap off the coat rack and stormed out.

~ * ~

Hours passed and Ian was still pissed. He’d made an ass of himself in front of Sam today. She’d asked if anyone had raped him in prison and he’d simply answered then walked out. His leaving so abruptly probably made her think he was lying. He wasn’t, but he could have gotten raped very easily.

It happened to everybody when they first got jailed. Lines were drawn and the weak were a target. Three guys had cornered him his first day. If he hadn’t been so young, he wouldn’t have been fast enough. They’d all been armed. A toothbrush whittled down to a plastic spike, a simple eating utensil fashioned into a shiv. They’d rushed him all at once, demanding that he was their bitch now.

Ian had played along at first, taking them off guard and when the big one was adjusting his pants, he’d struck. Ian grabbed the shiv, running it into his leg. The one ran off, and the other one rushed him. Ian had ducked then sucker punched him directly in the throat. He’d gone down like a ton of bricks.

They had respected him after that. Sure, there had been a few fights but they had all been self-defense and no one had ever tried cornering him again.

It had also made him wary, always looking back, and never trusting. Sam made him want to trust again. She made him ache for a normal life with no nightmares. She made him hope again.

He was working on splitting the rest of Burt’s firewood, the physical exertion gradually draining his anger. He was putting another chunk on the chopping block when he saw a familiar truck pulled into the driveway.

It was Gary Whitmore. Ian hadn’t known him long but had taken to him right away. He was a good shit, as Burt had confirmed, and he didn’t judge. He just listened like any good shit would do.

“Hey, man.” Gary held out his hand and Ian shook it.

“What’s happening?”

“Nothing much. Just got off work and seen you out here.  Need a hand?”

“Nah,” Ian was quick to answer. “I’m just about finished.”

“Well, I timed it good.” Gary laughed. He offered Ian a cigarette but Ian refused. It took all his strength to say no.

“Crazy weather we been having.”

Ian stared at him. Yesterday had been unusually warm and today the wind was stiff and cold. He had a feeling Gary hadn’t come here to talk about the weather. Small talk wasn’t his forte.