Page 10 of The Sweet Spot
Chris sits alone opposite them, looking so handsome in his tan sheriff’s uniform. His hair has darkened a lot since he was a kid. He was so blond back then, practically a towhead, but now his hair is more of a darker blond. His trim beard, too.
His hair isn’t the only thing about him that’s changed over the years. Of the three of us, he was always the runt, but apparently he had a growth spurt in college. By the time he came back to town, he’d nearly caught up to Micah. The way Chris’s shoulders and arms fill out that uniform shirt is enough to give a girl fantasies.
When Robyn catches sight of me, she straightens in her seat and waves. I return her smile and wave back. I’m so happy Micah has her in his life now. They recently purchased a home here in town, just two streets over from mine. They were living in Micah’s one-room log cabin located behind the auto repair shop, but they needed more space. For an engagement gift, Micah asked Robyn to pick out a house in town. She was over the moon at the prospect of them having their own house because she spent most of her adolescence in foster care, moving from placement to placement, and it had been years since she felt like she had a real home.
“Hi, guys!” I say as I stop at their table. They already have drinks—milkshakes, to be exact. Not a surprise. “Sorry I’m late. I stopped in to speak to Maggie for a minute. Have you ordered yet?”
Just as I ask, Cara brings a tray to their table and delivers their lunches. Burgers and fries for the guys. Robyn has a turkey melt and mashed potatoes with gravy.
“Do you have time to join us?” Chris asks. He scoots closer to the window to make room for me and pats the bench seat beside him. “Sit.”
“Sure, for a few minutes.” I slide in next to Chris. God, he smells good. I detect a hint of cologne and the smell of fresh laundry.
When I steal a fry off his plate, he smiles. I swear, that man would let me get away with murder.
When I finish chewing, he holds out another fry. I open my mouth, and he pops it in.
“Let me go check on things in the kitchen first,” I say. “I’ll grab some lunch and come join you as soon as I can.”
After I check in with Cara and Michelle, just to make sure everything’s going smoothly, I pop into the kitchen and catch up with Robert and Diego.
Diego shows me a shopping list of the items we’re running low on. “I’ll stop next door later today and pick up what we need.”
Chad’s busy rinsing off dishes to put into the industrial dishwasher.
As usual, everything’s running like clockwork. “I don’t know what I’d do without you guys. You don’t even need me.”
Robert gives me a friendly side hug. “Don’t be silly. Of course we need you. It’s calledJennie’s Diner, after all.”
“Besides,” Diego says, “who would bake the pies and donuts? Don’t look at me.” He shakes his head. “I’m acook, not a baker.”
I scoop some mashed potatoes into an oversized bowl and top it with homemade chicken noodle soup made with thick egg noodles Diego makes from scratch. I grab a warm dinner roll off the baking sheet, mix up a vanilla shake, and carry my food out on a tray to join Chris and the others.
When he sees me coming, Chris jumps up to take my tray from me and set it on the table. “Your public disturbance case this morning is cooling her heels in the county jail cell right now, waiting for her attorney to fly down here from Helena to get the ball rolling.”
“That’s going to cost her. Couldn’t she just hire a local attorney? Imagine being that entitled.” I take a sip of my shake. “I feel bad for her husband.”
Chris nods toward his plate. “Help yourself to my fries. You know you want to.”
Grinning, I grab another one, dunk it in my shake, and pop it into my mouth. “Mmm. Thank you.”
Sitting here like this, sneaking his fries and dipping them in my shake, reminds me of the good old days when we’d come here every day after school. We’d sit at the counter where Granny would have milkshakes and French fries waiting for us.Vanilla for me. Chocolate for the boys. Apparently, not much has changed. We’re just older now, and hopefully wiser.
No matter how rough school was, we looked forward to coming to the diner every day. This was our happy place. Our safe space. No one talked down to us in here—Granny would never stand for it. No one bullied us when we were in here.
Granny called us the threeamigos, but really we were more like the three misfits. But at least we weren’t alone. We had each other.
“How are your classes coming, Robyn?” I ask.
She gives me a thumbs-up sign as she finishes chewing. “So far, so good. The term is about half over, and I have A’s in both of my classes.” She crosses her fingers.
Robyn is majoring in social work. She wants to help kids in foster care—kids like she once was. She and I have a lot in common. We both lost our parents young. I had Granny and Grandpa to come live with, though. Robyn had no one. She drifted in the system for years collecting one bad experience after another until she aged out and ended up here in Bryce.
The bell over the door rings as two women—tourists, from the looks of them—walk into the diner. The sign at the entrance saysSEAT YOURSELVES. As they approach our booth, they slow so they can let their gazes linger on Micah and Chris. I certainly don’t blame them. Both guys are good looking. But Micah’s obviously taken. As for Chris—well, actually, he’s not. He’s single. But I resent the idea of them thinking that means he’s available. This isn’t Tinder.
As the women pass our table, one of them—a tall, curvy brunette dressed in a pair of skinny black jeans, a tight-fitting magenta workout top, and shiny new hiking boots—nods at Chris. “Good afternoon, officer.” She notices the badge on his shirt and corrects herself. “I meansheriff.”
Chris returns her nod. “Ma’am.”
