The Replacement (11 page)

“Serves you right, speeding around here,” Jay grumbles, smashing buttons on the piece of junk machine. “Money can be replaced, and there are other fish in the sea and all that jazz. You’ll recover, my friend. You’re young and tenacious.”

“Yeah, thanks for the words of wisdom, Gandalf,” Brad grumbles back. He finishes collecting the mess from the floor and disappears to the kitchen. I contemplate following him to pull him aside and get the scoop on his break up with Karen, but the front door jingles and more customers walk in.

I swing around and find Ryder and Nate sauntering up to the hostess stand. I’m hit with a plethora of conflicting feelings when I spot them, because they’ve both been on my mind, but for very different reasons. Nate called me a few days ago, asking if I’d heard from Ryder about going camping, and his inability to hold a steady conversation with me was becoming more and more of an issue. He became a rambling, stuttering mess. I should probably just fuck him and get it over with, but he and Natalie are the only two in this town who haven’t written me off. Well, them and Jay. And now Ryder.

Shit.

As Ryder stands there next to Nate, that strange ball of unease forms in my stomach again, and all I want to do is drag Brad back out here and beg him to take their table. But I can’t and I won’t, because that would officially make me the biggest bitch on the planet. Granted, I’m already up for that title, so maybe a few more nominations won’t hurt.

“Hey guys,” I say, reluctantly wandering up to them. “Come to harass me?”

“Pretty much,” Nate smiles, all cheeky and fresh. His hair is messy and styled to the side, his eyes twinkling. I force myself to look Ryder directly in the eye. I wish I hadn’t.

That dark brown, smoldering gaze is just as inviting as before, and I have to look at it knowing I turned it down. The memory of the feel and taste of his lips on mine has lingered since the festival, and I’m seriously irritated by it. What is the big fucking deal? He is just another guy. Just another handsome guy, looking to get in my panties. Just another guy I’d toy with, just because I can. I itch at the back of my neck, the place he gently rested his fingers while we sat on the bench that night at the festival.

“Here,” I say, leading them to a table. “Have a seat and I’ll be right back to take your order.” Tapping the table top, I don’t stick around to watch them slide into the booth. I book it to the kitchen and grab Brad’s shirt sleeve, pulling him into one of the pantries.

“Wow,” he chuckles, “easy there, babe. No gettin’ handsy while we’re on the job. Not until Boss Man leaves.”

“I love how you’re in a shit mood all morning, and the second you think I’m trying to fuck you, you’re all sunny with glee,” I say, trying but failing to restrain my own smile. “Whatever.” I swish my hands in the air, squeezing my eyes shut. “Anyway, what happened with Karen?”

“She’s just done. I’m done, too. Nothing for you to worry about, girl.” He brushes his thumb over my cheek and peeks around before placing a kiss on my forehead. “You doin’ alright? You’ve been looking rough lately.”

“Thanks.”

“You still look hot. You know I’d do you.” He wiggles his eyebrows and grins, nudging my shoulder.

It’s then that I realize Karen positively made the right choice to leave Brad. He feels no remorse for his actions, and he’s 100 percent serious, even if he is joking. He is like me. He belongs with people like me, and it’s wrong of him to try and fit into Karen’s world. That’s where Brad and I always differed. He tries to hide what he is. I let it all hang out. Except when it came to Jay. And now Ryder.

Again…what the fuck is wrong with me?

I pinch the bridge of my nose when the two men pop into my mind. “I’m fine,” I say to Brad with a sigh. “Just…dealing with some shit right now. Nothing new there, right?”

“Story of my life, babe.” He slaps my ass and exits the pantry. “Keep your head up,” he calls out as he disappears.

I compose myself and return to Nate and Ryder’s table, all business. “What can I get you guys?”

Nate is still scanning the menu, but Ryder looks up. My eyes level with his, and he has me again. Those damn eyes are fucking with my head.

He pushes his flannel sleeves up past his elbows. “Coffee and French toast, please.”

“Good choice.”

“So I hear.”

I nod and scribble down the order, waiting on Nate. I don’t bother to ask Ryder how he’s been or engage in small talk. He doesn’t, either, and that tells me he’s not interested in wasting any more time on me. Good, because I have the distinct feeling that he is not the type of guy to want sloppy seconds. Sure, he might want to get in my panties now. But when he learns who I really am? He’ll be running for the hills.

“I’ll take the same,” Nate decides, handing me the menus. I thank him and start for the kitchen.

“Oh hey, wait,” Ryder calls out before I make it very far.

“Yeah?”

“Do you by any chance have a newspaper?”

“A newspaper?”

“Yeah, you know, that outdated thing that no one our age reads anymore but is filled with useful information?” He straightens in the booth and folds his hands on the table, waiting expectantly like a cute puppy. I don’t mention the fact that he isn’t the only one who is “our age” who reads the paper. And I certainly don’t mention the cheesy column I read almost religiously.

“Sure. I’ll bring it with your breakfast.”

He thanks me and starts tapping his fingers on the table, turning his attention back to Nate. It seems I’m not the only one who senses tension between the three of us. They’re oddly quiet, saying few words to one another, and they don’t attempt to make conversation with me, either. Then why the hell did they come in for breakfast?

I dismiss that question as a stupid one. Maybe they want good food. Maybe they thought Natalie was working. Maybe they just didn’t have anything better to do and I’m a vain hussy who thinks every man in this town wants a piece.

I set my order pad on the counter and hang my head forward with a weary realization: Maybe that’s because most men in this town
have
had a piece.

I rip off the order slip with a little too much vigor and pin it to the cook line, calling out what I need. I’m back at Nate and Ryder’s table in no time, serving them our famous French toast with a pot of coffee. I remember to bring Ryder’s newspaper and leave him to it, happily busying myself with other customers while he and Nate do their thing.

Thirty minutes later, I’m retrieving their empty plates. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Ryder says, grabbing a napkin. He pulls a pen from his pocket and starts writing on it. “Go out with me again.”

Nate’s fork tumbles from his hand and clacks loudly on the table top. He clears his throat, and his cheeks turn red. What the hell? My eyes land on Ryder’s.

“Okay…”

“Here.” He finishes writing on the napkin, sneaking an amused glance at Nate. “I never did give you my number.”

“Oh, thanks,” I say, taking the napkin from him. “I really did have a good time the other night.” My gaze bounces between the two guys, and all I want is for them to both get up and leave. This is beyond awkward.

“Call me.” That’s all Ryder says before he stands and tosses some cash down on the table. “See you next weekend, man?” he asks Nate before heading for the door.

“Yeah, sounds good, dude. See you then.”

Ryder glances back at me as he exits, a sexy smirk curving his lips, but I don’t have long to enjoy that or its complementary dimples, because I’m left there with Nate.

“Hey Elise, I’ve been meaning to ask you…would you mind coming with me to pick out a birthday present for Natalie? I suck at shopping for presents, and I really want to get her something special, ya know?”

I blink, looking at him like he’s sprouted three heads. Sure, maybe he really does suck at buying presents, and maybe he could really use the help. But if he’s trying to make a move on me and that’s the best he can come up with, then the guy’s in even more trouble than I’d originally thought.

I do him a favor and play dumb, letting him think he has me. “Oh, really? I understand. Plenty of guys have trouble shopping for women. Sure, I’ll help. When do you want to go?”

“Are you free tomorrow?”

I tilt my head to the side, pretending to consider it. “I think so, yeah. What time?”

His eyes are suddenly on fire, like he’s just hit the jackpot. “How about noon? Does that work? I’ll come pick you up.”

“I can do noon. I’ll come to you. You live in Outrigger Apartments, right? I have to work the night shift, though, so I’ll only have a few hours.”

“That’s cool. We can get a lot done in a few hours.”

I nod as he pulls out his wallet and leaves a few extra dollars on the table, next to Ryder’s cash. He walks out of the diner and I watch him drive away through the wide picture windows. I look at the napkin in my hand, where Ryder’s number is sprawled across the center. Edginess teases my insides and I scratch my temple, wanting to extinguish the rush of tension I feel piercing my gut.

I crumple up the napkin and toss it over the counter into the garbage can, then move on to my next table.

***

I’ve spent the morning gloriously naked, lying in bed with my newspaper and a cup of coffee. I slept in and enjoyed every second of it, but it’s time to start getting ready. I have to pick up Nate soon. Tossing the newspaper on my bedside, I stand and stretch with a yawn. The Sorry Secrets column has been pretty lame recently. Where is all the juice? I snicker under my breath at my desire for sorry, broken-hearted people to experience more misfortune just for the sake of my entertainment. What a cruel world.

A brisk knock at the door demands my attention before I’m able to make it to the shower. I slink into my bathrobe and answer it, internally cursing myself when I’m greeted with his handsome face. “Ryder…hey.”

“Hey.” He looks cautious. He’s wearing his work uniform, and his usual scruff looks cleaner shaven than it did at the diner yesterday. “I don’t mean to come by unexpectedly like this, but uh…” He rakes a hand through his hair and his eyes dart from left to right. “There’s something I wanted to say yesterday that I didn’t get the chance to say, and it’s better face to face.”

I cross my arms over my chest and wait.

“See, I didn’t come to the diner yesterday with Nate.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“We both kind of showed up at the same time and just…bumped into one another out front, as we were walking in. So, we decided to get a table together.”

“Okay…”

“I came to see you. To give you my number and ask you out again. But he was there to see you, too.”

“Yeah, I know. He wants me to go shopping with him today for a birthday present for Natalie.” I turn to glance back at the clock in the kitchen. “I’m getting ready to meet him now, actually, so…”

Ryder’s half smile springs up as he shakes his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, about that…so uh, I think he’s into you.”

“What?” I snort, raising my brows. This is not a conversation I want to have with Ryder. This is not a conversation I want to have at all. “Ryder, I don’t think—”

“Just hear me out.” He casually lifts his hands to stop me. “It’s your business, I get it. But as far as I know, he and Natalie are together and I just thought…” His voice trails off and he sounds frustrated, like he either can’t get the words out or he isn’t sure what to say at all.

I study him with narrowed eyes. “What are you getting at, Ryder?”

He straightens and seems to steel himself, taking a deep breath. With another quick rake of his hair, he just comes out with it. “I want you, Elise.”

My fingernails dig into my arms and they cross tighter against my chest.

“I mean, I think I made that pretty clear the other night, and I’m almost positive that every man in this town wants you, because…well fuck, I’m not blind to the way they look at you. But you’re not up for it right now, I guess, and that’s fine. I’m not here to pressure you or make an idiot out of myself. I’m just here to say that if you’re available, and you’re interested…don’t fuck around with Nate. Come have Thanksgiving dinner with me. Get to know me, not him. He’s not right for you.”

The world spins. I feel it beneath my feet, and I feel it in the air. The awkwardness between the three of us at the diner yesterday suddenly makes sense. “You’re…you’re inviting me to have Thanksgiving dinner with you?”

“I am.” He nods seriously, like a man who knows exactly what he wants.

I feel a smile teasing my lips and I avert my gaze from his, trying to figure out how to navigate this thing. It’s been years since I’ve spent a holiday with anyone. Jay always offers for me to eat with his family, but I always decline. Thanksgiving usually consists of me in my PJs and a bag of greasy, processed food in front of the TV. There are no phone calls to family, no knocks on the door. Just me, waiting for the day to pass, so there are no more reminders of how truly alone I am.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes.”

My eyes find their way back to his, and something passes between us. I want to say thanks, but hell no. I want to tell him to run along and find another beautiful blonde with tattoos in unmentionable places to pester, because surely, all he’s looking for is a quick fuck. I’m just an itch he wants to scratch.