Reserved (6 page)

Sage was hunching over a little bit. Were those tears of laughter now?

“Oh, forget it. She’s acting weird and you’re hiding something.”

She stopped laughing. “Maybe you should ask
her
.”

Travis said nothing, because why the hell hadn’t he thought of that?

Sage smiled and left him standing there like an idiot.

“Travis, lunch is starting to pick up. I need some help up here, dude.”

Crap, he’d left Todd up front alone? He really didn’t need these distractions. Kenna was often a minor distraction in her sexy flannels or those muck boots that drove him a little nuts. He might even have a sexy farm girl fantasy starring a version of Makenna Rye, but that was no one’s business. He knew who she was, she knew who he was, but that look she’d given him . . .

Why the hell did he care what she thought anyway? If she had a problem with his personal life, well, that was too bad. He supposed he did invite criticism with the phone call, but he didn’t know they were standing there. Maybe he did.
Aw, shit!

“Runner,” he called, and placed the spinach salad in the window.

This was stupid. He had work to do.

Garrett sat at the bar about a half hour into the lunch rush. He was wearing another green shirt. This one wasn’t John Deer; it bore the name of some fertilizer, but Kenna just knew it would be a topic of discussion, or at the very least mentioned at coffee with Sage the following weekend. He took his baseball hat off, put it on the bar, and snagged a cherry out of her Coke.

“Hey!” She slapped his hand, but was too late.

“How’s my favorite sister?”

“Only sister,” she said, engrossed in her laptop.

“That too.” Garrett took a seat next to her. “What’re you working on there?” He leaned in and before she could turn her computer, Garrett began reading. “
Best date: A. Fancy Restaurant B. Intimate Bar C. Anything Outdoors or D. Moonlit Dive.
”

She closed her eyes and waited for the laughter.

“Moonlit dive. You think they’re talking scuba or Jake’s Rib Shack?” Garrett laughed. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s a dating profile.”

“Are you kidding me? You don’t need one of those.”

“I do. I can’t date anyone here and I have Paige. I want to be able to screen people first.”

Garrett shrugged and pulled her laptop in front of him. “Okay, well, let’s see what you’ve got.” He skimmed her answers.

“Well, I’m glad to see your ideal date is anything outdoors because the rest of that shit was lame.
Sexiest car, a truck.
Good choice again.
Are baseball caps worn backward ever sexy, yes or no?
” He looked up at Kenna. “That’s a no-brainer. Again, you chose yes. Nice.
Sexiest job?
Who comes up with this stuff? Let’s see what you put—a man who works with his hands. A farmer? Aww, isn’t this cute, you’re looking for your big brother. I’m flattered.” He pushed the laptop back over to her.

Kenna shook her head. “Are you finished now?”

“Yeah, just be sure to meet in public places and let me or Logan know if you want us to go with and sit at a different table.”

“Oh yes, that’s a great idea. Thanks for that offer.” She rolled her eyes.

Sage came out of the kitchen, her back facing them as she carried a rack of clean glasses. “Okay, so did you fix my profile?” Her back still to them, she didn’t see Garrett.

“Garrett here has graciously volunteered to chaperone our dates if we need protection from the big bad world,” Kenna said, hoping Sage wouldn’t say anything more about her profile.

Sage’s shoulders tensed and she slowly set the rack down on the bar, sort of like someone trying to avoid a bear attack. Kenna was sure at that moment Sage wanted to shrink into the floor, but she had no choice: she had to turn around and face the music. She looked quickly over her shoulder to confirm Garrett was actually sitting at her bar and immediately started hanging the clean glasses. Sage was suddenly all about keeping busy.

“Well, isn’t that thoughtful of him, but we will be just fine.”

Garrett was looking back at Kenna’s computer, and she knew what was coming next. She wanted to warn Sage again, but there was no time.

“Wait, that’s your profile?” Garrett asked.

Sage glanced at her, clearly looking for an explanation. There was nothing Kenna could do, so she scrunched her face in resignation.

“You think backwards baseball caps are sexy and you like trucks? You’re looking for a guy that”—he looked at the screen again—“works with his hands, such as a farmer?”

“I . . .” She was still putting the glasses away, and Kenna recognized that look. Her friend was not going to find her way out, and there was no way in hell Garrett was going to win this.

Kenna slapped his arm and closed her laptop. “I never said it was my profile or hers, dumbass. That was a sample, showing us how to do it. You just assumed, as you always do.”

Garrett gave her a look, as if thinking about this any longer was more than he was willing to do, and shrugged. Sage’s shoulders dropped in relief.

“Do you want a beer, Garrett?” Sage asked, picking up the now-empty rack, still with her back to them and walking toward the kitchen.

“Sure. I’ll take that new one.”

“Give me a second.” She disappeared into the kitchen and probably collapsed onto the floor, Kenna thought.

Garrett turned to Makenna. “The profile said Sage Jeffries at the top. When I looked over again, just then, it said her name.”

“Huh, weird.”

“Yeah,” Garrett said with his eyes on Sage as she returned and poured him a Born Yesterday Pale Ale. “Really weird.”

Paige sat in front of St. Christopher’s toward the end of the U-shaped pickup line. On the adjacent sidewalk, a teacher wearing a striped wraparound dress seemed to be having trouble walking in the wedge heels she wore. Kenna wondered why, with everything else teachers had to deal with, they would choose to wear heels. The job seemed daunting enough from her perspective, making comfort a top priority. Hell, Kenna wasn’t even a teacher and comfort was always her priority, she thought, looking down at her boots.

Two more cars to go before she arrived at the front of the line, so she reluctantly paused her audiobook,
The English Spy
, even though it was up to a really good part. Because her life tended to get busy, Kenna always bought an e-book or a print book and then the audio version. That way she achieved maximum reading time. When Paige was little, Kenna read all the time, but now she had school activities and things had gotten busier at the restaurant, plus there was always work at the farm. Makenna believed in covering all of her reading bases because fiction was her escape, probably her therapy too.

She grabbed a granola bar from the center console and pulled her navy-blue Jeep, correction, her muddy navy-blue Jeep, up behind a silver Jaguar. A teacher with a large stone necklace loaded two little girls into the clean, perfect car, and Kenna wondered if that mom had two pack rat traps in the back of her car. The thought made her laugh a little. Jaguar had probably never even seen a rat trap. Although, she thought as she pulled up next in line, she shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Her father was always telling her that Oprah said something like critiquing others only shows the weakness in ourselves. Since discovering Oprah, her father had become the most evolved farmer she’d ever met; he even starting reading her book club books. Kenna smiled at the thought, and then her smile grew as a vision of cuteness with pigtails climbed into her booster seat and pulled her seatbelt on. Kenna waved politely to the teacher and pulled forward.

“How was your day, Peach?” She handed her daughter the granola bar.

“Amazing.” Paige ripped open the wrapper and took a big bite.

“Wow, really? What made it so amazing?”

“Well, we had extra circle time and I got to show everyone my penny collection. It was a hit.”

Makenna smiled and tilted her rearview mirror down a little farther so she could see her daughter.

“That’s great. Did you remember to bring them home?”

“Yup.” She finished her bar and stuffed the wrapper into the seat pocket in front of her. Since becoming a mom, Makenna had purchased all the little trash bags and backseat systems for young children. When none of those worked, she finally asked Paige to hand up her trash when she was done, which hadn’t worked either. Paige would be six in two months, and Kenna finally accepted the seat pocket as the trash bin.

“Can we put the top down?”

“No.”

“Oh. My. God.” Her sweet little hands were splayed out like a jazz dancer. “I forgot the bestest part of my day! He did it.”

“Who did what?”

“My Travis, he made me mac and cheese. I left a note in my lunch box the last time with a picture and I asked with kisses and a heart. Mac and cheese was in my lunch box today.”

Her daughter was practically bouncing with excitement, and Makenna felt that weird sweaty pressure in her chest again. That’s where the mac and cheese had come from. He’d taken his Sunday and made her little girl’s special request. Who did that? Certainly not the Travis McNulty she’d described to Sage over coffee. Things were growing more and more confusing.

“That was nice of him. Travis likes making your lunch. He told me.” Kenna tried for perfectly together and calm mommy.

“My Travis is the best,” she said, looking out the window.

“Honey, it’s just Travis. His name is Travis.”

“No, he’s My Travis. Sierra at school says, ‘My daddy makes my lunch every morning.’ So I told her that My Travis makes my lunch. See, Mamma? He’s My Travis.”

Makenna did see. She spent the rest of the car ride home wondering whether she should worry about this as some kind of transference because her daughter’s father had died or if she should just be happy that she had friends who cared about Paige and leave it at that. Not that Travis was exactly a friend; he was more of a coworker. He was her brother’s friend, and just because she dreamed about him didn’t mean that things were different, but maybe she should—
Oh for God’s sake, shut up!

Chapter Six

T
ravis had just finished the cauliflower for their Friday happy hour special when Makenna, dressed in tight jeans and black leather riding boots, came through the back door. She’d done something different with her hair and her eyes looked more, well, more something, not that she was actually looking at him because the awkward thing was still going on.

“Morning,” he said, because she was about to walk through the kitchen without even acknowledging he was standing right there.

She glanced back but kept moving toward the door to the bar. “Good morning. I’ve got quite a day today, so if you don’t need anything—”

“Logan asked me to bring you up to date on our latest thoughts for Grady’s wedding,” he lied, but at least she stopped. “We were thinking since they’re probably going to go with a fish and a red meat option, the salads need to be different because of the radicchio with the bass. So, we’re adding a tomato salad with the fish option and this great endive, blue cheese, and bacon creation we came up with last night for the beef. Did they mention if they wanted family-style sides or the entire meal plated? I’m thinking since the reception is going to be right there on the grounds of the Wayfarer, they might be going for something rustic, which would be awesome.”

He was rambling like a child hopped up on one too many Tootsie Rolls, but he didn’t care.

She met his eyes. “Sounds good.”

“Which part?”

Kenna shook her head and moved to exit the kitchen, probably to run to her corner. “All of it. Sounds amazing.”

Travis touched her arm and tried to stop her, but she seemed so uncomfortable that he let go. There it was again, the nervousness. Shit, he was starting to feel it too.

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Yes, I did, and I’m happy to discuss it later today, but I just got in. Right now, I need to set my stuff down and maybe eat something. I get that you’re excited about the wedding. Logan is too, but I have about fifty other things on my list. So excuse me if I’m not jumping up and down over the endive.”