Page 348 of Devil’s Disciples

His brows lifted. “Waiting on someone?”

I may have been holding the sandwich for an hour for all I knew. I felt lethargic. Something was wrong, but I had no idea what it was.

“No.” I gave the burger a look. I wasn’t in the mood to continue eating. “Just killing time.”

“Did Lawson tell you that your biker buddy was in here last night?”

“Really,” I squealed, my voice three octaves higher than normal.

He grinned. “So, are you two…”

“No.” I put my burger down. “We just went for a ride on his motorcycle. I really like him, though.”

“I gathered that,” he said with a laugh. “Has he expressed any interest in you?”

There was no value in sharing that we’d explored each other’s genitalia in front of a beachside restaurant. It was obviously a fluke. The fact that Goose hadn’t taken a sexual step in my direction since let me know that one incident was out of character for him. Or that he wasn’t interested.

“A little bit,” I said, saddened by the fact things hadn’t progressed any further. “He’s hard to read.”

“How so?”

“Well. We went for a ride and then we went out to eat. I had a good time. But he hasn’t really done anything to indicate he’s got any interest in me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking.”

“He came in here last night looking for you.” He cocked an eyebrow. “For a girl who doesn’t have a phone, I’d say that’s a pretty good indication he’s got interest.”

I sighed. “He might have just been hungry.”

“He lives in La Mesa,” he argued. “It doesn’t matter if he takes the 8 to the 15 or dips down on 94, getting to this place is about as convenient as going to Mars. He didn’t come in here because he was hungry. Not for food, anyway.”

I swelled with hope. “Do you really think he came in here to see me?”

“He sure as hell didn’t come in here to see me,” he replied. “Maybe I ought to put up one of those dry erase boards over there by the kitchen. You two can write messages on it for each other.”

“Ha. Ha,” I said jokingly.

He picked the lint from his apron. After he had it clean of any foreign matter, he looked up. His face was expressionless.

“I liked the thought of being a matchmaker with Porter and Abby. He bought her an engagement ring. He was getting ready to give it to her when she died. I felt like there was unfinished business there. Like I failed.” He looked away. After canvassing the entire restaurant, his attention returned to me. “If you like this guy, I think you should explore all your options with him. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I just don’t want…”

Porter and Abby’s death troubled him deeply. I wished there was something I could do to comfort him.

But there wasn’t. So, I just listened.

“If he ends up coming around, and if he’s not a jerk, maybe something will work out,” I said.

He held my gaze. “If a man’s character could be measured, Porter’s was as high it gets. If this guy was Porter’s best friend, and it’s pretty obvious he was, I think that’s all the endorsement I need. I’m going to say he’s not a jerk.”

“Hopefully I’ll get to find out.”

He straightened up the condiment caddy, and then brushed the crumbs from the table. About the time I expected him to get up and leave, he spoke. “When are you going to tell me what dragged you from Connecticut to California?”

I wouldn’t make a good character in a book, nor was my life’s subject matter interesting enough to make a movie. I wish I had a cool story to tell. How I escaped a violent ex, or that my parents retired and relocated to the Bahamas, leaving me searching for a new place to call home. There wasn’t a reason behind my leaving, other than I felt I needed a man in my life. A man and a little excitement.

I was just a normal girl who enjoyed doing abnormal shit.

“I told you. I needed a change,” I explained. “I just drove until I ran out of road. This was where the land ended, and the ocean started. So, I stopped.”

“You needed a change from what?”