Distinguished Service. Tori Carrington
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She made her selections then came to sit down again. “I know I’m right. B-17 is the song.”
They shared a laugh as she picked up her fork again.
God, but he couldn’t remember a time he’d enjoyed an evening more. Her easygoing demeanor, sexy smile and revitalizing openness made Geneva great company.
And, he hoped, great in bed.
“So, does it always get that insane in this place?” he asked.
“You’d be surprised by how popular Meat loaf Mondays are.” She smiled and licked her fork. “It’s usually pretty busy all the time, but right now the flu is knocking down a few more staff than usual.” She sipped her milk, reminding him of a kitten lapping cream. “Well, that and blind dates.”
“Excuse me?”
“One of the missing waitresses had a blind date, I guess. At least that’s the rumor.” She toyed with a bit of crust. “I hope it’s not true or Trudy might fire her.”
“Can she afford to?”
“Afford to or not, she will. Trudy’s funny that way. You could break every glass in the place, but if you’re honest and here on time, she’ll keep you on.”
“I’m thinking honesty is important in a business of this nature.”
“Yeah.” The song changed from an upbeat to a slow tune on the jukebox. “So how long are you in town?”
“A week.”
The reminder of why he was back here was enough to loosen the fit of his pants a bit, but not much.
“You staying with family?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Bunking at the motel on University. You?”
“I live here.”
He chuckled. “Right. Sorry.”
“My mom and I did live together for a while, though …”
Something in her voice captured his attention.
She cleared her throat. “She passed a little over two months ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.” Damn. Talk about a pants-loosening change in conversation.
“Thanks. She was sick for a long time. Lymphoma. She was diagnosed shortly after she moved here.”
He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.
They ate in silence for a while.
Then she leaned back and groaned. “God, I can’t believe I ate so much of this. I feel like I’m going to burst.”
Mace looked at where they’d nearly polished off all four pies. “I can’t believe it, either. Although I think I have a ways to go before I reach bursting stage.”
She smiled. “I may have room for a bite or two more.”
Geneva Davis was unlike any woman he’d met in a good long while. By now, most of the women he usually dated would have checked their lipstick at least twice and made one run to the ladies’ room to check on the rest of their appearance.
Of course, he allowed that this wasn’t much like a date, either.
Still …
“Are you career?” she asked.
“Military? Nah. Six months to go.”
He found it interesting he’d answered in the negative. When had he made the decision not to sign up for another tour?
Just then, he realized. No matter what happened at Lazarus this week, he knew he didn’t want to exchange active duty for a desk job in Washington.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“For asking me that. I didn’t know what my answer would be until you did.”
“You were considering staying longer?”
“I was.”
“But not anymore.”
He took in her pretty face. “Not anymore.”
His cell phone vibrated at the same time hers rang.
They laughed. Mace took his out of his pocket even as she consulted hers.
Janine.
Damn.
He refused the late-hour call and put the cell back into his pocket, watching as she pretty much did the same thing.
Then she began toying with the crust again.
“Someone you don’t want to hear from?” he asked.
She nodded. “You?”
“Yeah.”
Then, surprisingly, he found himself telling her all about Janine and what had gone down eight months earlier.
He couldn’t be sure how long he’d talked, or exactly how much he’d revealed, but she’d patiently listened, nodding when the situation called for it, making encouraging sounds when he needed them.
“So … just to be sure I’m following you,” she said once he finally stopped talking and teetered on the verge of regret for having said too much. “She not only left you for someone else because you were gone too long … She was messing around with him while you were still a couple, even introducing him as a friend to you during your last leave and including him in things you did together…. And now that you’re back, she wants to see you again?”
He grimaced. “That would be the long and the short of it, yes.”
“How do you feel about that?”
He raised his brows and leaned back. “I don’t know.”
And he didn’t. Not really.
He did know he didn’t want to get involved with her again.
She fell silent.
“And your phone call?” he asked.
She blinked up at him. “Huh?”
He repeated the question.
“Oh. Dustin.”
“Ah. The panter.”
“The mooner.” She rested her chin in her hand, her elbow propped against the counter. “Or, as the rest of the diner staff like to call him, my baby daddy.”
She tilted her head slightly to look at him as if waiting for his response.
“Oh. You have a child together.”
“No. Not yet.”
He squinted at her. “Now I’m not sure I’m following you.”
She looked away as if weighing whether or not to continue, then met his gaze fully, her chin coming up a tad higher than before. “I’m pregnant … and he’s the father….”
4
THERE. SSHE’D said it.
Geneva paid an inordinate amount of attention to the crust she was pushing in and out of the whipped cream that remained in the chocolate marshmallow pie pan. By rights, she should have said something much sooner. The minute they’d sat down at the counter. Maybe even found a way to casually mention it early on. Something along the lines of, “Gee, I can’t remember my feet ever hurting this badly when I wasn’t pregnant,” or “Boy, if I wasn’t pregnant, I’d take you back to my place and do all the naughty things I see playing out behind your sexy eyes.”
She couldn’t be sure why she’d been hesitant to say anything.
Yes,