Page 57 of Wren's Winter

“You’ve been here three days. What have you been eating?” His question went unanswered as he pointed at something across the street. “There, that place is empty. Let’s go to that café.”

I knew before looking it was Marta’s place. “No, not there. You wouldn’t like it. Greasy-spoon type place.”

“I’ve been to a Denny’s once. How bad could it be?”

A glance at his expensive snow jacket and three-hundred-dollar jeans told a different story. “Right, I don’t want to hear complaining when we get in there.”

Once we parked, Buck walked to the right of me on the sidewalk. I tried to slow my pace so we weren’t beside each other, but he matched me. As we were about to the door, a car drove by, splashing muddy slush up over my legs and all over my newly cleaned jacket.

The sound I let out was halfway between a gasp and a scream. Buck smiled at me, holding his hand over his mouth, “Whoa, sorry, Wrenny. Glad that didn’t get me.”

With narrowed eyes, I stomped closer to the door, trying to shake the bulk of the gray slush off me. At the door, Buck stood behind me as I opened it, his eyes on his phone. An older man was beside the hostess sign, about to walk out. The door opened, and Buck walked in first, passing the man who had to stop on the other side.

Frowning, I blew out a deep huff through my nose, shaking my head. The older man’s eyes darted from me to Buck, who was standing inside, his hand shoved in his pockets as he glanced around. I gave the older man a polite smile, waving him through the door before I walked in.

As he passed me, the man tipped his head. “Thank you, young lady. Always nice to see some courtesy.” The second glance at an oblivious Buck wasn’t lost on me.

“Have a good day, sir.” The door slammed shut behind me as I stepped up to the hostess stand. Marta came out of the kitchen, her hair in that same tight bun at her nape, the apron she wore proclaiming hot stuff coming through. She saw me first, a bright smile stretching her face. “Wren, you came back.”

“Hi, Marta.”

Her eyes darted from me and darkened on Buck. She didn’t have to say a word for me to know her thoughts.

I should’ve insisted we go anywhere but here. Marta was going to talk to Adrian about this for sure. I had no idea where we stood, but this wouldn’t endear me to one of his oldest family friends.

Her tone noticeably icier, she jerked her head to the side. “Sit where you’d like. I’ll bring out some water.”

Buck headed to the other side of the room, pulling out the chair for the same table Adrian and I were at a few days before.

“Not there,” I barked. My eyes darting around, I quickly grabbed a chair a few tables down. “Let’s sit here. Closer to the window.”

Shrugging, Buck sat down across from me. Marta came with our waters. Buck requested lime slices for him. Marta raised a brow at me with a look of disappointment. I hoped my repentant expression was enough.

“I got to take a leak,” Buck announced, his chair scraping loudly in the restaurant.

He wasn’t gone more than fifteen seconds before Marta came back to the table, dropping off a small bowl of lime slices, her arms crossed and a venomous grimace on her face.

“I don’t appreciate you bringing your new boy toy into my restaurant. I may give Adrian a hard time, but that boy is like a grandson to me.”

“It’s not like that. Buck is my ex. I swear. Nothing is going on.”

A condescending snort, and Marta rolled her eyes. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to tell him to leave. I don’t want anything to do with him anymore. He’s not who I want to be with, trust me.”

Her gaze softened, from vicious to skeptical. “You better not break my boy’s heart, you hear?”

With a sigh of relief, I saw Buck emerge from the bathroom. “I don’t plan on it.”

We ordered. I got the same burger I had last time, and Buck had a steak salad. Well done. Marta left us, giving me a pointed glare that let me know I had one chance and not to squander it.

“So, you want to tell me why you’re here?” I asked.

“I wanted to see you,” he said plainly, taking a sip of his water and grimacing. “This water is gross. I’m getting a soda.” He raised his hand to snap at Marta, and I grabbed it, slamming it against the table.

“Don’t do that. It’s rude.”

“It’s their job.” He snorted out a low laugh. “When did you get all bleeding heart?”

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