Lovebird Café Box Set Page 3

  I smiled when I spotted the caller ID. “Hi there, handsome.”

  “Hey, Cookie. Just wanted to check in and see how your first night went.”

  My heart skipped a beat at the sound of Parker’s voice. I pictured him sitting behind his massive cherry desk, decked out in a suit and tie and not a hair out of place. “Yeah, sorry I didn’t call. It was a long drive, and I had a lot to do before I could turn in.”

  “So how does the place look? Think you’ll get the money in time?”

  I grabbed a cart and headed for the produce section. “I think so. I have someone coming over this afternoon to take a look.”

  “Good. We have to get that money together by the end of September if we’re going to be able to make this happen.”

  “I know. I’m working on it.” Parker had led a team in opening three high-profile new restaurants in downtown Dallas in the past two years. With his brilliant business acumen and my culinary skills, we were bound to be a success. At least that’s what he kept telling me. In order to secure the deal we had to come up with 200k of our own to buy in. He had about twenty grand saved up, so selling my grandparent’s place was the only way we could make up the rest in time. “So, what did you do last night?”

  “Nothing much. Watched the game, had some bad takeout.” He cupped his hand over the speaker and said something to someone in the background.

  “Parker?” I asked.

  “I have to go. Keep me posted. Miss you.”

  “Miss you too.” I uttered the words too late; he’d already disconnected. What did I expect? He was burning the candle at both ends, trying to keep up with his current job and make arrangements for our new venture without letting anyone know about it. Poor guy. The pressure was probably getting to him.

  I tucked my phone back in my purse and pressed on, determined to find something worth making for dinner. The produce aisle held one disappointment after another. The only organic offering they had was a bag of wilted, overpriced greens. I tossed a bag of crispy romaine into the basket and moved on toward the bakery.

  “Cassie Belmont?”

  I followed the voice to a gray-haired woman in a hairnet who hovered over the doughnut case. “Mrs. Cahill?”

  “Aw, darlin’, I thought that was you. I heard you were movin’ back.” She pressed a hand over her heart against her green Country Fresh apron and moved closer, reaching out to give me a hug.

  She smelled like Tums and Rose Milk lotion, the same brand my grandma used to wear. The past washed over me along with the mixture of peppermint and flowers, and I almost expected my grandma and grandpa to come cruising down the aisle.

  “I thought you worked at the Piggly Wiggly across town?”

  Her tongue clucked. “Didn’t you hear about the tornado that ripped through a couple years ago?”

  I shook my head. I’d avoided any news coming out of Swallow Springs for the past few years. No need to be reminded of the past.

  “Tore the roof right off the Piggly Wiggly and the laundromat next door. Then lifted into the sky and disappeared.” She waved a hand in the air then brought it down and clasped my shoulder. “They turned it into a senior center and then this place popped up. It’s so good to see you again, sugar.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Cahill, it’s good to see you, too.” Growing up, she’d been one of my grandma’s closest friends, and with no children of her own, she’d always doted on me when I came to visit in the summers.

  “You call me Dotty now, ya hear?” Her pale blue gaze lighted on my face and she reached a hand up to touch my hair. “You’ve grown up so pretty. Your hair’s the same shade as your mama’s. Like a field of wheat in the summer sun.”

  I blushed. The mention of my mom surprised me. I’d only been five when a semi sideswiped her car on a curvy stretch of blacktop east of town. We were living in Chicago at the time and she’d come back for the weekend. I’d never forget the look on my dad’s face when he picked up the phone. We’d been playing Go Fish after dinner and as he held the receiver up to his ear, he slumped against the wall. He hung up and yelled at me to get my shoes on. We drove through the night, arriving just in time for me to watch my mother take her final breath.

  I shook the memory away and clasped Mrs. Cahill’s hand. “Thanks for saying that. Nobody talks to me about my mom much anymore.”

  She let out a giggle. “I’d heard your daddy finally remarried after all those years. He and your mama were so in love. Musta been hard on him being alone for so long.”

  “We had each other.” And I had Robbie. Where did that thought come from? “He seems happy now. I really like Madeline, and the boys keep him busy.”

  “When your grandma told me he’d married that woman and had twins on the way, why, I got a kick out of that.” Dotty’s hand fluttered toward her chest. My grandma used to make the same gesture.

  “Yeah, they’re a handful. They’ll be five next week.” Dad deserved a second chance at happiness, even if his new wife was only eight years older than me. She’d tried to be friends, but it was too weird. I did better just steering clear and minding my own business. It helped that they were in Atlanta now, and I was in Dallas. Dad’s company transferred him all over the country; we’d moved about every two years when I was growing up. I’d always had my grandparents to come back to though.

  “You’ll come over for dinner this weekend, Cassie. Saturday night. We’ll have us a nice long chat and get all caught up.”

  “That would be great. Thanks for the invitation.” I put my hands back on the cart, ready to finish exploring the meager offerings of the local supermarket.

  “All right, honey. I’ll see you then. Bar-B-Q sound okay?”

  My mouth watered just thinking about Mrs. Cahill’s cooking. I’d probably gain fifteen pounds during the time it took to get the house ready to sell. “Sounds great.”

  She patted my arm and turned back to the bakery case. Seeing Mrs. Cahill made me yearn for a taste of my grandma’s home cooking. I grabbed a bag of potatoes and turned my cart toward the meat and dairy sections. Chicken-fried steak with homemade mashed potatoes and gravy would tide me over for now. If I made extra, I’d be set for a few days. Even though my hands itched to roll out a pie crust and pick through the strawberry patch to see if there was enough to make grandma’s award-winning jam, I wasn’t here to cook. I was here to work my tail off.

  An hour later, I pulled into the drive. Tom Schmitt’s truck idled in the grass as he climbed out of the driver seat. “Well, Cassie Belmont, I wouldn’t believe it was you if I didn’t see you with my own eyes.”

  “Hi, Mr. Schmitt.” I eased the car to a stop and got out to join him on the front lawn. “Sorry, I was in town picking up some groceries. Have you been here long?”

  He cleared his throat and looked down at his boots. “Long enough to know this job is way over my head, young lady.”

  Way over his head? No! I needed help and he had to be the one who would give it to me. “What do you mean? I just need a few things updated. Shouldn’t be too much work, right?”

  “I sure wish I could help you out, sweetie. I’ve slowed down a bit since I got that pacemaker put in a couple years ago.” His finger tapped the area over his heart.

  Damn, Robbie was right. Ol’ Schmitty wasn’t up for the job. Where would that leave me?

  “Best I can do is tell you to give Rob Jordan a call. His is the only outfitter around here big enough to tackle this project and still be willing to work with you on a payment plan.”

  Tackle? Visions of tackling Robbie played through my head. Laying him flat on his back and burying my nose in his well-cut abs. Wonder if he still has that little freckle down next to his—

  “Cassie?” Mr. Schmitt’s voice cut through the X-rated musings of my mind.

  I jerked my head up to meet his gaze. “You were saying?”

  He turned toward his truck. “Sorry I can’t help you out. Your grandparents were good friends and good customers. Sure will hate seeing this place
leave the family.”

  A stab of guilt pierced the shell around my heart. You knew this wouldn’t be easy. Do you want to stick around in Podunk or become the next hot chef to hit the Dallas restaurant scene? “Yeah, me too. I don’t know what else to do with it, though. I know they’d rather see someone using the place…maybe a young family, a whole new generation to make their own memories here.”

  He gave me a long look. “They always thought you’d come back home, you know.”

  I frowned. “I only spent the summers here.” Home had been wherever my dad’s job had been, not in the sticks of rural Missouri. And now home would be where Parker and I would build our restaurant—finally a place to call my own.

  “Well, best of luck to you. Let me know if you need Rob’s number.” He’d reached his truck and turned around to face me. “Although, you probably know better than I do how to get ahold of that boy.”

  My disappointment swelled, overflowing into a sigh. “Thanks for stopping by, Mr. Schmitt.”

  He nodded and steered his old diesel pickup down the road. I turned back to the car to gather the groceries and the bottle of Jack I’d picked up in town. If I had to call Robbie Jordan and eat crow, it’d be best if I had a glass of liquid courage to wash it down with.

  5

  Robbie

  “The Macon girl called.” I’d barely even cracked the screen door when the sound of Dad’s voice hit me from the front room.

  “What’s that?”

  He coughed and I waited for the episode to finish racking his body. “I said the Macon girl called. Says she needs you to come by to take a look at the house for her.”

  I bet she does. “Oh yeah? What’d you tell her?”

  “Said you were out. That maybe you’d get around to stopping over this weekend.” I smiled to myself. The old man could irritate me like a giant sliver under my skin, but he might’ve accidentally done me a favor this time. Wouldn’t kill Cass to sweat it out a bit.

  Schmitty had called before his tires even hit the blacktop. He warned me she’d be tracking me down. Told me the bones of the place were still in good shape but she needed updates on the plumbing and electrical. Nothing major had been done since her grandparents had bought it over fifty years ago. I’d have my work cut out for me if I decided to take it on. And that didn’t take into account having to deal with Ms. Pissypants herself.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Tell her to call your cell phone next time. I’m not your damn secretary.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Brought you some chicken for dinner. I’m headed out to practice and will be back later.” I set the boxed three-piece chicken dinner down on the TV tray next to him.

  “Damn supermarket chicken’s too greasy. Your mom’s chicken was ten times better than this.”

  I grabbed his glass and filled it with water at the kitchen sink. “Shouldn’t have pushed her around all those years. Maybe she woulda stuck around to cook for you.”

  “Don’t be talkin’ about something you don’t know nothin’ about.” He’d sunk his teeth into a drumstick and pieces of extra crispy batter fell from his chin.

  “Just stating a fact, Dad. She hit the lottery the day she rolled out of here. Just got back from a cruise to Alaska with her new boyfriend.”

  He didn’t look up, just wiped at the grease on his chin with the sleeve of his pajamas.

  “Alaska. Did you hear me?”

  “Told me she hated the cold. I’d have taken her to Alaska if she wanted,” he mumbled into his drumstick.

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head. The relationship between my parents was one of life’s great mysteries. I’d given up trying to make any sense of it a long time ago. What holds a good woman to a cheating, alcoholic, abusive husband? I’d be damned if I knew. She’d finally up and left the day after I pulled out for my freshman year of college. She moved to California to be close to her sister and seemed to finally be having the time of her life.

  I was happy for her. Sure, it would have been easier if she’d stuck around, especially once my dad got sick.

  He didn’t have much longer; a lifetime of heavy drinking and smoking had seen to that. Made it that much more important for me to snag the job with Cassie so I could get to work on that baseball field. I wanted to have a chance to surprise him with it before he ran out of time.

  I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “See ya later, Pop. Go easy on that chicken.”

  He grunted. I grabbed my coaching bag and went out the door. Practice at the high school and then maybe I’d swing by the Macon place on my way home. I wouldn’t want Cassie to sweat too much. At least, not unless she was willing to take a dip in the pond with me later to rinse off.

  “Hey, Jordo.”

  Jake grabbed my hand in a tight grip and clasped me on the back. Life at home might suck, but all that faded away when I stepped onto the baseball field. To be able to share the responsibility of coaching the high school team with Jake, my oldest and closest friend, well that was a dream I’d never even thought to wish for.

  “Got ‘em all warmed up?” I asked. The team sprawled over the diamond, stretching, fielding balls, and horsing around.

  “Working on it. How ya doin’?” He gave me a knowing look. Damn, word traveled fast around here. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, and he obviously knew about Cassie being back. “Seen her yet?”

  I grabbed a bat from the duffel bag I’d just set on the bench. “Outfield, get ready.” I tossed a ball up in the air and popped a fly ball to left field.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Jake took the bat from my hand. “Misty came with me tonight.” He tilted his head toward the bleachers behind home plate where the she-devil he called his wife was already scrambling over the bench.

  “I don’t have anything to report. I’ve barely even seen her.”

  Jake shrugged his shoulders as Misty barreled toward us.

  She bounced a baby on her hip and clasped my three-year-old godson’s hand, pulling him along behind her. “I hear Cassie’s back in town.”

  I glared at Jake. He put his hands out in front of him and took a step back. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t tell her. You know how things are around here.”

  Misty smacked her gum between painted red lips and wiped a line of drool off baby Fisher’s chin. “I saw Hattie Hayes getting a perm at the Cut ‘n Curl today. She’s already worried you’re dumpin’ her daughter for a ghost from your past. What’s going on, Rob?”

  “How the hell am I supposed to know?”

  Misty made a move to cover up the kids’ ears. “Language, please.”

  I laughed. “Like they haven’t heard worse from you?”

  Misty had been a firecracker in high school. The only kid who could stir up more trouble than the sheriff’s son would be the preacher’s daughter. Thank God we’d never gotten together. Swallow Springs probably wouldn’t have survived. Not that we would have made much of a match anyway. She and Cassie were about as different as night and day.

  She poked a freshly painted nail into my chest and lowered her voice to a growl. “I’ve spent the past nine years hearing nothing but what a sorry sack of shit you were after that girl left you.”

  I backed up, hands in the air in surrender. “Language, please.”

  She ignored me. “She won’t be here forever and you know you’ve got no business tangling with the Hayes family. You’d better tell Cassie how you feel about her this time around. Jake’s married now. He’s got family obligations. He won’t be able to go chasin’ skirts with you and drinkin’ your sorrows away when she blows out of town this time.”

  “What the hell did you tell her about Cassie and me?” I turned the force of my direct gaze on Jake.

  He paled and shook his head. “I didn’t tell her anything.”

  Misty stepped between us, shoving the baby at her husband and fisting her hands at her sides. “He didn’t have to tell me anything, dumb ass. The whole freaking town knew how whipped you were
, including your current girlfriend. Now’s your chance, Robbie. You screw the pooch on this one and it’s your own damn funeral.”

  So much for the language. “Rob. I go by Rob now.” I chucked baby Fisher under the chin. “Thanks for your warm words of encouragement.”

  She stared me down for a moment longer then took the baby back from Jake. “Have it your way, Rob.” She swished her ample hips and turned her back to me. “Does Cassie know you’re practically engaged to Caroline Hayes? I think I might just stop in and pay her a nice little visit tomorrow.”

  That’s all I needed…Misty descending upon Cassie, filling her head with all kind of nonsense, and scaring the shit out of her. Not when I didn’t even know how I wanted to handle her being back in town. Misty and Cassie had spent time together growing up as the girlfriends of best friends do, but hadn’t been super close since Misty just moved to Swallow Springs her sophomore year of high school and Cassie stopped coming around two years later.

  “Practically engaged? Don’t you think that’s stretching it a bit? We haven’t even been seeing each other that long.” Although, there was some truth to Misty’s threat. If Caroline had it her way, we’d probably be married by this time next year.

  Misty examined her manicure. “You shoulda heard Hattie. She was spoutin’ off to everyone who would listen about how she had a video chat with Caroline the other day and she told her to start lookin’ for mother of the bride dresses. Mother of the bride, Rob. That implies a wedding.”

  “Look, Caroline and I don’t have plans to get married. I don’t know what she’s talking about. And don’t say anything to Cassie. At least give me a chance to talk to her first.”

  Jake never stood a chance once Misty had her sights set on him. I kind of pitied the guy, but I’d heard enough about how fired up Misty could get in the bedroom, so I guess it was a tradeoff he was willing to make.

  “Fine.” She sashayed back toward the stands and called out over her shoulder. “I’ll give you ‘til Sunday. If I wait longer than that to stop by, it just wouldn’t be neighborly.”