Page 52 of Dark Roads
He nodded, and she felt him watching as she walked away. Would he tell Jonny she was at the campground? She tossed her head. Now, why would that matter? Stupid thought.
Beth walked around to the few other campsites—a young couple, a family—but none of them owned the dog.
When she got to the diner, Mason was in the storage room, unpacking the morning delivery. He was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. She’d seen him a few times visiting the truck drivers over at the parking lot before the diner had even opened.
“Hey, Mason, could I take some scraps after work? I movedout to the lake campground and I saw a dog roaming around. He might be a stray.”
He stood up straight. “What the hell are you doing out there?” She held up her hand to stop the rest of the lecture that she knew was coming.
“I’m sleeping in my car. Don’t worry.”
He gave her a look that made it clear he didn’t think the car was safe either. “Keep it locked, and you can have the scraps, but don’t leave them out or you’ll get scavengers.”
“Okay, thanks.”
When she was done with her shift, she eased into her car, which was so hot she had to use napkins to touch the steering wheel and scooch forward on the seat so that her bare legs weren’t resting against the vinyl. She found the local grocery store a few streets down and savored the air-conditioning while hovering near the cooler, debating her ice choices. Chipped? Blocked?
“You going to climb in there?”
She spun, startled when she saw Jonny. His arms were crossed, one hand on each bicep, legs braced, but it wasn’t a defensive position. He looked relaxed, maybe even curious.
“Good idea. It’s too hot.” She gestured at the ice. “I don’t know what’s best.”
“A block will last you longer.”
“Thanks.” She hefted one out of the fridge and set it in the cart.
“You’re Amber’s sister.”
“You’re Hailey’s best friend.”
He gave her an assessing look. She wondered if he’d already known that she was Amber’s sister when he’d come into the diner. Did he feel the strange connection too? Did grief and pain look the same from his side?
“My friends saw you at the campground. You need some help?”
“I can’t figure out my stove.” She smiled. “Cooking never was my thing, but it might be nice to have a coffee without setting myself on fire.”
“Don’t want that. I’ll come by later.” He smiled back. She was struck by his perfect white teeth. Farm boy must have drunk a lot of milk growing up. He looked over her shoulder, his smile slowly melting away, the corners first, then the rest, until his mouth was a flat line. She followed the path of his gaze. Two women standing in the meat section were watching them. They turned away. Jonny was looking at her again. “Why would you camp out there alone?”
She started to get angry—why did everyone think they had a right to lecture her? Then she realized that there’d been no sarcasm in his voice, only interest. The question was genuine.
“Amber liked the lake.”
“You aren’t scared?”
“I guess I feel like the worst thing has already happened to me.”
He rocked onto his heels, and she waited for another warning, or an uncomfortable look to show up in his eyes. Guys didn’t like dealing with female emotions at the best of times.
“You like camping?”
“Last night was my first time. Backseat was kind of uncomfortable.”
Now he would scoff or make some sort of decisive sound. What did a city girl like her know about the woods? Maybe he’d smirk about the backseat comment. His expression didn’t change. Who was this guy? She was almost hand-feeding him opportunities to be a jerk.
“First time for everything.”
“Guess so.”
