“Crap, I’m late.” Jay had to wait for Sahara to exit the booth before he could slide out after her. “Thanks for lunch, but I’d better get behind the bar before Bart fires me.”
“I had fun.”
“Me, too.” Strangely enough, Jay meant it.
“We’ll have to do it again, sometime.”
“Sure.” Jay dropped his plate in a busboy’s bin and ducked behind the already crowded bar.
***
He was so wiped by the end of the night that he nearly crashed into an oncoming truck and came within an inch of sideswiping a parked car on his way home. But it was all worth it when he arrived to find Em curled up in her usual spot on the couch. Only this time, she was still awake.
“Hey. How are you feeling?”
“Much better. How was your day?”
“Long. You didn’t have to wait up for me.”
“I wasn’t. I was watching . . . a movie.”
Mmhmm. “What movie?”
“Some superhero movie. Um . . . Captain something?”
Now he knew she was lying.
“You hate those movies. You were waiting up for me.” It was meant to be a reprimand, but he secretly loved that she was there waiting for him at the end of a long day of work, and he knew it showed.
“Fine. I was waiting up for you. Is it such a bad thing that I miss you?”
“No. I missed you, too.” Plopping down on the couch, he wrapped an arm around Em and tucked her close to his side, grateful that her skin felt cool to the touch.
Em snuggled closer and her stomach growled.
“You’re hungry.”
“I’m fine.” She was a terrible liar. One of the things he loved about her.
“When’s the last time you ate?”
She didn’t answer. She only did that when she knew he wouldn’t like her answer. He usually loved that about her, too, but now it just made him tense.
“What did you have for breakfast this morning?”
She shrugged.
“Em?”
“We were out of cereal.”
“Lunch?”
She shrugged again. “And bread.”
Dammit. “So, you haven’t eaten anything all day?”
“I’m really not hungry, Jay.”
Her belly growled again in protest and Jay frowned. “You’re stomach seems to disagree. Come on, let’s go find it something to eat.”
“I don’t need—”
“Did that sound like a question?” He hauled her to her feet and propelled her toward the kitchen.
She took a seat on one of the rickety chairs, looking resigned as he ripped apart the cabinets. No wonder she didn’t want him looking in them. There wasn’t a damn thing in there.
“Why didn’t you tell me we were out of food?”
“Because it doesn’t matter. We don’t get paid for two more days.”
“I could have—”
“No, Jay. There’s nothing either of us could have done about it. It’s fine. We aren’t completely out. There’re a couple of cans of soup under the sink. And, we both work tomorrow, so we can grab something there.”
As long as they weren’t greedy about it, Bart didn’t mind the staff snacking on leftovers or returned meals in the kitchen.
“Fine. At least let me make you some soup. You need to eat, Em.”
“So do you, Jay.”
“I ate.” Dammit all to hell. Em had been sitting around hungry all day while he’d been eating with Sahara. This shit wasn’t supposed to happen anymore.
Chapter Eight
Em
Morning rolled around lazily. They were finally back to working their normal shifts, closing together, so there was no rush to get moving. Em lounged in bed, while Jay made it his mission to find something for them to eat for breakfast.
Twenty minutes later, she was beginning to wonder if he’d called in a search party. Or crawled into a bare cabinet and gotten lost.
“Jay?” Em finished buttoning her pants as she made her way toward the kitchen. “Where did you—?”
The doorbell cut her off just as she stepped into the living room. Switching directions, she headed across the cold wood floor toward the front door. They rarely had visitors, so she pulled it open with a healthy dose of caution.
“Good morning.” A tall man with broad shoulders and close cropped dark hair stood on the porch.
“Morning.”
He grinned. “How are you doing . . .?”
“Em,” she supplied automatically. “And I’m fine, thanks. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Nice to meet you.”
He held out his hand and Em’s anxiety shot up, but she choked it back. She couldn’t spend forever afraid to touch people. After all, he was probably some neighbor that had finally gotten around to welcoming them to the neighborhood, or something. How would it look if she refused to even shake his hand?