Prove Me Wrong (19 page)

              A loud snort was heard from behind the bar. She made a mental note to give Malcolm a good kick in the pants at home.

              Jason smiled but she saw that lingering hunger in his eyes. He was sad to see the conversation end. He had wanted more before he left.

              And, surprisingly, she wanted more as well.

              “I get off at nine,” Kat offered. “If it’s not too late, I can meet you around nine thirty for some late night pie and coffee. After all, I haven’t told you
where
my uncle’s tattoos are yet.”

              Kat’s eyes twinkled.

              Jason grinned. “It’s a date.”

Chapter
Three

              “It’s not a
date
date,” Kat explained for the third time in exasperation. “It’s just a date. Like two grown adults meeting each other in a friendly fashion.”

              Malcolm grumbled to himself as he wiped down the empty bar. The diner was closed and most of the lights off. They were midway through their closing rituals.

              “Grown ups can get
very
friendly when they meet,” Malcolm mumbled to himself as he wiped down the counter with more ferocity than needed. He suddenly stood up and pushed up his falling glasses with the back of his hand. He turned to the order window where loud banging and sloshing of water was heard.

              “Don’t you think so, Uncle Do?” he called out.

              Uncle Doughy’s large, bald head popped up through the window. “Eh?” he asked, his face scrunched in that look of slight annoyance he always had. A lot of the younger children in Peytonville were quite afraid of Uncle Doughy. And Kat didn’t blame them for it.

              At six feet tall and nearly three hundred and fifty pounds, the man was huge. But unlike most heavy people who carried their weight like a burdensome stone, he carried his like a menacing force. With his broad face and crooked nose, he looked every bit like the old biker people rumored him to be.

              Graying tattoos covered his arms and his chest. He had a husky voice that spoke of many chewed cigars in his past. And he had small, squinty eyes that always made him look like he was glaring.

              But every time Kat looked at him, she couldn’t help but smile. She loved her Uncle Doughy. It was this mean looking man who had always made sure that she and her brothers had new clothes for school and enough presents at Christmas. It was this tough old biker who had teared up at his sister’s funeral and had promised at her gravesite to raise her children as his own.

              And when Dillon had gotten sick, it was Uncle Doughy who had made sure that he received the best care possible.

              In Kat’s eyes, no man was greater and more loving than her Uncle Doughy.

              “Grown ups!” Malcolm called out. “Getting
friendly
!” He wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive way then jerked his head towards his sister. “At
night!”
he added as if that was the clincher.

              Kat rolled her eyes.

              “Are you meeting that grunt from table six?” Uncle Doughy asked, sharp and perceptive as always.

              Kat turned to her uncle in surprise. “How’d you know he’s in the military?” she asked.

              Her uncle looked at her in compassionate condescension. “You could smell those GI tags a mile away,” he said. He leaned a large forearm on the window. “Are you meeting him?”

              “Yes, I am,” Kat said patiently. She put her hands on her hips and glared at her brother. “And I don’t understand why
some
people are putting up such a stink about it.”

              “Because we don’t even know him!” Malcolm said. “Who goes out with a stranger after talking to him for fifteen minutes?”

              Kat crossed her arms and looked at her brother sardonically. “That is literally how almost every date in the history of humanity starts.” Malcolm rolled his eyes. Kat continued knowingly, “It’s because we started to talk to strangers that we don’t still marry our fifth cousins and have babies with three eyes or no chin, little brother.”

              “Oh good,” Malcolm muttered sarcastically. “A history lesson from my sister before she goes out and gets murdered. This will be a good memory to have at your funeral.”

              Uncle Doughy watched his nephew and niece duke it out as they usually did. Finally he nodded and said, “Have your phone on you and stay in lit areas.” His head then disappeared from the window.

              Malcolm’s jaw dropped in outrage as he stared at the empty window. “That's all you have to say?” he demanded. “Kat, who apparently can’t find anyone good enough in town even though every man has knocked down our doors trying to get to her, is going to go out with some drifter and all you can say is stay in lit areas?”

              But there was no response. Only the banging of pots and pans as they were washed for the night.

              Kat grinned. Undoing her apron, she picked up a thermos and a large paper bag. She looked at her reflection against the dull metal wall. She carefully tousled her long caramel colored bangs and retied her loose ponytail, letting it rest comfortably over her shoulder. 

Pinching Malcom’s cheek on her way out the door, she grinned, “You’re sweet, little brother.”

              “Just know cops can arrest wizards and muggles alike!” Malcolm called out. “No one is exempt from the law!”

***

              They had decided to meet out in front of the library. The library was next to a large park that was well lit and had a lovely path to walk along.

              Kat saw Jason first. He was standing under a streetlight, his pickup truck parked next to him. Seeing his tall, broad body standing against the streetlight, he looked like the embodiment of a Rebel Without A Cause. He looked dangerous. He looked lethal.

              And for a moment, Kat felt her heart skip a beat as she wondered if this maybe wasn’t the best idea. After all, Malcolm had been right. She had only talked to the man for about fifteen minutes. What could she really learn about a person in such a short amount of time?

              But then as she neared, Jason must’ve heard her footsteps. He raised his head and instantly, Kat felt at ease.

              As soon as Jason’s head had lifted at the sound of her footsteps, she had seen that searching look of surprise. He had half expected her to stand him up. He had thought she would flake.

              But even still, he had stood by the library, hoping for the best but prepared for the worst.

              Kat felt her heart ache a little for the man who was clearly in need of some warmth and some comfort. He seemed to doubt anything good in his world could truly be for him.

              After months of battle and firefights, she could see how someone could start thinking like that. And it made her more determined to show him that there was enough good in the world and that he was more than entitled to some.

              She smiled and waved the thermos. “I brought some coffee and pie,” she called out.

              He grinned. “You’re like an angel to my stomach.”

              She suddenly wondered if she should’ve brought an actual meal for him. After all, at the diner he had only had coffee.

              Jason went around and lowered the tailgate to his truck. Kat set the thermos and the paper bag carrying the pie on the flatbed. But before she could push herself up, Jason grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up with a breathless strength that made her dizzy.

              Kat felt her cheeks immediately heat. He had picked her up as if she had been nothing more than a feather. The ease of his strength of his hands on her waist took her by surprise. But a good surprise. Most definitely.

              The truck dipped as Jason hopped up as well. Dangling their legs off the edge, Kat pulled out two paper cup from the bag and poured them each a nice hot cup of coffee. Summer was just ending and fall’s crisp winds were starting to pick up.

              Ripping the bag to make a placemat, Kat pulled out two plastic cartons each carrying a slice of blueberry pie. She gave Jason a plastic fork.

              “One for you and one for me,” she said.

              Jason stared at his slice before taking a forkful. He made a rumble of deep appreciation. “This is damn good,” he said finally. He dug in again for another heaping forkful.

              Kat smiled happily. “Good,” she said, taking her own bite. “I made it.”

              Jason’s eyes widened. “You made this?” he asked incredulously, looking at the pie again as if it were a work of art.

              Kat laughed. “I make all the baked goods for Doughy Pop’s.”

              “You’re good then,” he said with definite certainty as he took another big bite. “Really good.”

              Kat was pleased. “Eventually, I hope to add more to the baked goods section for Pop’s. To the whole menu really,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. She looked over and was surprised to see clear green eyes focused on her.

              Jason was listening with rapt attention. And with the sharp clean expression on his face, she could tell he not just politely interested; he was completely engaged.

              “You want to make Pop’s into a bakery?” he asked.

              Kat shook her head. “No, no. But I can see so much potential here. So many people are searching online for little getaways now. Places that are authentic and homey for small vacations. I think Peytonville is a perfect place for a romantic and sweet vacation.” Her animation grew as she talked, her love for her dreams clearly evident.

              “Our town has so much great character and history and with a little polishing up, it can be something really special. And I think Pop’s can help lead the way. Food is such a big draw for most people. They love finding those hidden gem restaurants. Uncle Do is a little old fashioned but he’s told me that some day, he’ll leave the place to me. And once he does, I want to really put it on the map.” Kat’s eyes sparkled in the night sky with her excitement.

              Jason nodded slowly, as if thinking about all the things that would be needed to accomplish such a task. “People like homey things. I think people like Pop’s because it’s so comfortable. It’d be a shame to change too much of that.”

              Kat was surprised he had caught on so quickly to Doughy Pop’s charms. She shook her head. “Doughy Pop’s is an institution around here and I would never want to damage that. But just a few things like sprucing up the interior, adding a few new things to the menu can make a huge difference. People come for the food but I’m
sure
they’d stay for the town.”

              Jason suddenly grinned down at her. The glow of his grin warmed Kat more thoroughly than any cup of coffee could.

              “I think you could knock down the walls of Jericho to give your town a fighting chance at the big times,” he said warmly.

              His words felt like a vat of warm, gooey caramel had been poured down her back. A beautiful glow overtook her body as she felt his genuine sincerity blanket her. Kat almost felt giddy.

              She had always been so busy growing up. She had helped her mom take care of the boys when she had been younger. With no dad around and Uncle Do always working, Kat had always been the de facto caretaker in the house. Then after mom passed, she had not only become caretaker to her brothers but also housekeeper of their home.

              And then her youngest brother, Dillon, got sick.

              Suddenly, Kat found herself as a nurse as well as caretaker and housekeeper and waitress. College had been unthinkable and had never even been brought up. It was tacitly understood by all that Kat needed to stay. And she didn’t consider it such a terrible burden. She wanted to be there for her brothers and to give back to the uncle who had taken care of her for so many years.

              But constantly moving and working, her dreams had only existed in her mind. She never seemed to have a moment or a person she could share these thoughts aloud with. Her brothers probably wouldn’t have had much interest and Uncle Do, although he loved her, wasn’t interested in anything beyond restaurant maintenance and the next day’s food shipments.