Under An Adirondack Sky. Karen Rock
his grandmother had always said. And his life was already the Titanic. He needed distance from his new customer. She was short-circuiting his brain, one already over-taxed with handling his chaotic family and hectic business.
He had no room in his life, or thoughts, for romance. Letting himself imagine otherwise was a fool’s path he’d gotten lost on once before. He’d never risk it again. But a lost girl caught in the rain had a way of making a lonely man dream.
He pulled out two mugs and filled them with coffee, a warm mist washing over him as he poured the black brew. Rebecca needed the wake-up before he settled her in a cab heading for home and out of his complicated life.
“How do you take your coffee?” He passed a mug her way and reached into the mini fridge below for the milk.
“Caramel and whipped cream.”
His chin slammed into the bar edge. “What?”
When she shook her head, a long lock of hair fell across her high forehead. Fetching.
“Something sweet then.”
He pushed a sugar jar her way. “Help yourself.”
“I’m trying.” Her words came out in a half sob, half laugh.
He threw back a gulp of the bitter brew and burned his throat. How long had that pot been sitting? Mary Ann usually came down after tucking in their siblings and changed it before heading home on the weekends. But he hadn’t seen her in hours. And he could use her right now. Rebecca looked seconds away from inviting him to her pity party and he had no intentions of RSVP’ing.
She leaned over and slurped from her overflowing mug, the quantity of milk and sugar she’d added making it spill on the newly wiped counter. She wasn’t kidding about wanting a fancy concoction. Where she came from, they probably served it on a china saucer instead of a soaked cocktail napkin. The light gleamed on her golden hair as she straightened and suppressed a grimace with pressed lips.
“Tastes good. I work in a coffee shop. The Koffee Kat. Have you heard of it?”
“I’ve seen it. Nice place.” Aiden switched off the coffeepot and grabbed a cleaning rag for the counter.
He stopped wiping the spill when Rebecca’s narrow shoulders sagged and she set down her cup. “The owners are moving to Florida. They’re like family to me. Now I’ll have no one.”
Her lonely expression softened him. Being surrounded by a large family—barraged by them, really—didn’t stop him from feeling alone, too. “What about your relatives? Friends?” He cleared his throat. “Boyfriend?”
Her laugh sounded as bitter as the coffee. “A boyfriend. Hah. That’d be the day.”
The weird tightness in Aiden’s chest loosened and he released a breath. He needed to get a grip. Her dating status was none of his business.
Rebecca brought her arm up to her mouth and coughed into it. “Laura’s gone, so that takes care of my close friends list. And as for my family...well...they’re, uh, not around much.”
He hung a mug and looked at the downcast woman, his sympathy about her family turning to guilt. Was this how his relatives viewed him? But to fill his father’s big shoes, he had to work sixteen hour days, seven days a week...and even that didn’t seem enough. How had his father managed the business and family so effortlessly?
“I’m sure lots of people care.” Aiden began lining up the wineglasses on a mirror-backed shelf, his gaze drifting to the beautiful woman’s reflection. “They just might be busy. Not have time to show it.” He peered into her eyes, then looked away, her sun-ray smile piercing his closed-off heart.
“‘How’s your day’ takes only a minute to ask.” She began sorting the remaining glasses on the counter according to size. “Maybe a couple more to listen to the answer.”
Aiden plucked a few mugs from the drier and stacked them below the bar. She had a point...only where to find those precious minutes when work demanded every second?
“At least you care,” she continued. “No one’s listened to me since my roommate Laura left.” Her brow furrowed and her smile vanished. “But that’s your job, right? To listen? So... I’ll take a—a beer.”
She swiped at her nose, then twisted her hands together atop the counter. With her eyelids drooping after drinking half a cup of coffee, she must be more intoxicated than he’d thought. And it looked like she was fighting a whopping cold. “I don’t think that’s for the best, ma’am.”
Her jaw clenched. “You said you were still open.” She glanced up at the wall clock, then pulled out a twenty.
He leaned forward. “My bar, my rules.” She might be used to giving orders wherever she came from, but this was his world.
“But the customer’s always right.” Her unsteady squeak tugged at him.
“When the patron acts appropriately.”
Suddenly her face contorted. “I just need to talk. Please.”
For the love of all—where was Mary Ann? The tear that rolled down the woman’s cheek broke through his resistance.
He poured himself another cup of caffeine and forced a weary smile. She was right. This was his job. Would always be, he thought with a pang. If given a choice, would he have picked it? He shoved down the image of the engineering school’s acceptance letter he’d received after his father died. “Fine then. Happy to listen, Rebecca. What’s the trouble?”
For the next few minutes, she unleashed a torrent of woes that ranged from problematic coworkers trying to make her lose tenure—whatever that was—to her out-of-control canine, her lost coffee shop job, not being able to make this month’s rent and, oddly enough, the torture of control-top hosiery. He struggled to keep his expression sympathetic as he nodded along to that one.
“You’re laughing at me,” she declared, her face scrunching.
“Only on the inside,” he said solemnly, then gave in and chuckled, pleased when her bell-like laugh rang out. He topped off her coffee and dodged her playful swat. “No, really. I’m listening.”
Despite Rebecca’s erratic rant, he found her charming and entertaining, even if she didn’t mean to be. Somehow closing up no longer mattered, and for the first time in a while he heard himself laugh. He enjoyed watching her large, mobile mouth, her expressive eyes, and the way she squeezed his hand for emphasis. It’d been a while since someone outside his family touched him and he was surprised at the feelings she stirred. Dangerous ones.
“Aiden,” Mary Ann called. “Connor won’t get off the Xbox, Mom wants to know when Dad is coming upstairs, Ella’s wet her bed and Daniel’s having those nightmares again. I thought you’d be up by now, and—oh...”
Spotting Rebecca, his sister pulled up short on the staircase from their upstairs apartment.
“Hey.” Rebecca waved, and then, with a clunk, passed out, her head hitting the bar.
Aiden rushed around the counter and Mary Ann flew to the girl’s side.
“Ouch. Why didn’t you cut her off?” Mary Ann scolded, her expert nurse’s hands—from training he’d made sure she received—running over Rebecca’s temples and prying open her shut eyes. As the second oldest, Mary Ann had always been one to challenge his authority...and the only one he could turn to when he dared admit to a problem.
“She came here this way.” Aiden held up a mug. “And I’ve been trying to get her to drink this.” Luckily, she hadn’t hit the hot liquid. He should have noticed she was close to passing out. Mary Ann was right; he’d been distracted by Rebecca and had dropped the ball. “I was going to call her a cab.”
“In this condition? You can’t let a woman travel alone like that. Remember what happened to Gemma after the family reunion?”
Aiden