.
left shoulder and fixed his gaze on Mark, who seemed oblivious to his presence.
“I’m surprised he told you.” He met her eyes again. “He’s usually tight-lipped, especially where the business is concerned.”
“Funny, he said pretty much the same thing about you.”
“Did he, now? And yet he spilled the beans about our meeting.”
“Actually, he didn’t. I put two and two together.”
“Don’t defend him,” he said, grinning.
“I wasn’t—”
“Hey, Marshall,” Mark called. “Is this block-the-aisle thing becoming a habit?”
Sam snapped off a light salute. “I’d better get over there before he takes a second whack at breaking the sound barrier.”
She started a fresh pot of coffee, then leaned her backside against the stainless-steel counter. It was only ten o’clock in the morning, so why did it feel like midnight?
Ciara copied her stance. “Who-who-who’s that man?” she asked, pointing at Sam.
“A friend of Mark’s.” Thankfully, the men were deep in conversation, and she could stare to her heart’s content...for now.
“Is he—is he new to Nashville?”
“Mark says he’s been here for a couple of years.”
Her sister—a younger, shorter version of their once-beautiful mother—hid a giggle behind pink-and-black polka-dot fingernails. “I’d remember if he was in here before, because he’s handsome,” she said, drawing out the word. Shouldering Finn, Ciara added, “Is he one of those movie stars who lives in town?”
“I don’t know anything about him, except that his name is Sam Marshall. His family has a ranch out west somewhere. He’s a firefighter, and hurt his leg, probably on the job. He sings a little, and unless I’m mistaken, he’s part owner of The Meetinghouse.”
“Sounds to me like you know almost as much about him as his mama does,” Rowdy teased, leaning his beefy forearms on the serving counter.
Ciara grinned as Finn pointed at the revolving order rack. “By my count, you have half a dozen orders to cook up.” She grabbed her pad and headed for the dining room. “Better get busy, because I’ll be back in a minute with a couple more.”
Ciara feigned a look of disapproval. “Now, Finn, is that—is that any way to talk to your assistant manager?”
“Hey. Whose side are you on?” Finn wrapped her in a fierce hug, then finger combed Ciara’s wavy brown bangs. “You have customers, too, sister dear,” she said, turning her toward the counter. “You’d better get crackin’, too.”
Rowdy filled the twelve-slice toaster and pushed the lever. “Don’t mind her, kid. Finn’s old before her time, but it ain’t her fault.”
“I know,” Ciara said.
Before the accident, her sister had been an athletic, straight-A student. Afterward, she’d become a stumbling, stuttering girl who didn’t remember the drunken argument that had made their dad stomp on the gas until the already battered Jeep rolled end over end before coming to a screeching, grinding halt alongside the highway. She didn’t remember spending weeks in the hospital, enduring six operations, the months of physical therapy that followed, or the fact that Misty and Connor had left town instead of dealing with their parental duties or taking responsibility for what they’d done to her.
But Finn remembered. And she’d never forgive them for it.
Shake it off, Finn. They’ll never change. And, as Pete loved to say, What’s done is done, so just accept it. Besides, she’d played a small role in the accident, too...
Finn stepped up to Mark’s table. “What can I get you gents?”
“Sweet tea and a burger,” he said. “Medium rare, with a side of fries.”
“For breakfast?” Sam chuckled. “Broke up with the dietician already, did you?”
“Mind your own business, smart guy. This pretty young gal has better things to do than watch you poke your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“Ah, but it does belong. As your partner, I’m concerned about your health.”
Even Finn had to laugh at that.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” Sam told her.
“When I deliver your orders,” she said, winking at Mark, “you’ll have to tell me all about the woman who almost talked you into a health food diet.” She pointed her pencil at Sam. “If he starts talking about her before I get back, stop him, hear?”
“Yes, ma’am. I mean, no, ma’am.”
Ciara had been half right, Finn thought, clipping the order to a mini clothespin on the order wheel. Sam was handsome...but he had a sense of humor. In her experience, the two didn’t coexist nearly often enough.
“I don’t get it,” Rowdy said, snapping the ticket from the rotating wheel. “Why does Mark eat two meals a day in here when he could eat free at his own place?”
“I know why,” Ciara said, clapping like a schoolgirl. “Mark eats here because he’s bored with the food on his own menu, that’s why!”
Innocence radiated from Ciara’s brown eyes, prompting Finn to draw her into another hug. “You are so smart!”
“Not as smart as you, but—but—but that’s okay, because I’m the pretty sister.”
Laughing, Finn said, “Yes, you sure are.” She was lovely, even with the ropelike scar that started near her right nostril and disappeared in her hair...one more reason to resent their parents.
“Did I tell you that Mommy called me today?”
Finn took a moment to gather her self-control. “Really,” she said through clenched teeth. A call from Misty could only mean one thing: trouble.
“She’s coming to Nashville in a few months, and, and she wants to stay with us!”
There was barely room for the two of them in the apartment above the diner, even before Misty’s suitcases exploded with clothes, shoes, makeup and hair products.
“I’ll book her a room at a nice hotel. We’ll all enjoy the visit more if we’re not stepping on each other’s toes all day and night.”
“But, Finn... Mommy misses us. She said—she said she wants to snuggle and watch old movies together. And eat popcorn.” Ciara raised both shoulders, smiling. “And drink cocoa!”
“It’s August, Kee. Nobody drinks cocoa in August.”
“Why not? We have air-conditioning.”
Oh, if only she had Ciara’s “keep it simple” gift!
“Did she say when she’ll get here?”
“No. She, she need to make some arrange—arrangements.”
“Aha.” Finn recognized it as Misty speak for I’ll be there, eventually...unless someone makes me a better offer.
“Promise me you won’t be too disappointed if Misty can’t come. You know how...busy she is.”
“I won’t be disappointed because she’ll be here! She can sleep in my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Finn and Rowdy exchanged a wary glance.
“You’ll see,” Ciara added. “She’ll come. You won’t—you won’t really make her stay in a hotel, will you?”
“Maybe you ought to book a room for yourself,” Rowdy told Finn.
But his joke fell flat