She turns the jam container and starts on marmalade.
“Allie, look at the boy.” Roarke elbows her, but her eyes focus in on the different flavors of jelly like she’s doing a jigsaw puzzle looking for a specific piece.
“Stay out of it,” she grumbles.
“You know I love you. I’ve loved you since the third grade when you kneed me in the nuts.”
I press my lips together to keep from smiling and Roarke’s eyes find mine, sharing a similar expression.
“You never understood the word no,” Wyatt goes on.
Allie shrugs. “I wanted you to play with me.”
“I didn’t want to play. You pushed the topic and then everyone laughed when I fucked up and lost the game.”
“Let’s move on to the present,” Roarke interjects like the lawyer he is.
“Wyatt?” The police officer at the counter circles his stool around to face us.
“Hey, Grandpa,” he says, waving his hand but never looking in his direction. “I’ll be there in a second.”
“What’s going on?” His big feet land on the floor and he slowly steps over.
Roarke’s back grows straighter with each stride.
“Nothing. I’m talking to Allie.” He points across the table to his fiancé.
“Didn’t even see Allie here,” he says.
Should this man be a police officer if he can’t even take in his surroundings when he walks into a diner? Isn’t that like protocol or something?
“You have to listen to me.” Wyatt’s eyes are lasered in on Allie’s. “Do you really believe I want Kylie?”
“Kylie?” his grandpa questions.
Seriously what is it with this town and one-word questions?
“Grandpa, please go back and finish your breakfast,” Wyatt says in an exasperated tone.
“Roarke.” The sheriff shifts his attention, his thumbs resting on the belt under his straining stomach.
“Sheriff.” Roarke nods at the man.
“Back for the wedding. Nice of you to walk Allie down the aisle.”
“Well, she is my sister.”
“And as everyone in this town is aware, I don’t have a dad,” Allie bites back and Roarke nudges her with his elbow.
“I would have fought him to walk you myself even if you did.”
Allie glances up and she and Roarke share a look. A ‘you’re my hero’ smile lands on her face.
“Suck up.” Allie disregards his comment, staring at me. “He’s being soft because you’re here.”
“Who are you?” the Sheriff asks me, finally concerned about the stranger at the table.
I extend my hand, ready to introduce myself.
“Hannah Crowley, Sheriff,” Roarke answers for me.
The Sheriff’s calloused hand wraps around mine. “Sheriff Wiltaker. I knew you were from out of town. Should have figured you came in with Roarke.”
Roarke rolls his eyes.
“I’m Wyatt.” The young kid gives me a fleeting glance. “Allie’s soon to be husband.”
“So you think,” Allie spits.
“You two kids. Stop all the fighting. You’re getting hitched tomorrow and you’re going to make me a great-granddaddy.”
Allie’s cold stare stays on Wyatt.
“I told you, Grandpa, we’re not ready for kids yet.” Wyatt holds Allie’s gaze, not sparing a glance at his grandpa.
“You’re being foolish. Once you raise your kids, you’ll have time to yourselves.”
“Allie, can I please talk to you in private,” Wyatt pleads.
“Go talk to him,” Roarke says.
“Give me one reason why,” Allie says, finally pushing the jam container away.
“Because you love me.” Wyatt stands and holds out his hand.
The start of a smile forms on her lips. Roarke slides out of the booth, secure in the fact that Allie will give in.
She stubbornly stays in her spot on the vinyl for a few seconds. “You have five minutes, Wyatt Wiltaker.” She slides out and exits the diner with Wyatt behind her.
“Young love. I remember once upon a time...” The Sheriff glances over his shoulder to Liv cleaning off a table. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Crowley. Roarke, welcome home. I’ll see you two tonight at the rehearsal.”
“Have a good day, Sheriff,” Roarke says, and the Sheriff ventures to the back of the diner to chat with four men in the corner.
“Your breakfast is cold.” He raises his hand for Liv’s attention.
“It’s fine. I’m not that hungry anyway.”
“Good.” He slides out, pulling out his money clip and dropping well over the cost of the meal on the table. “I have somewhere I want to take you.”
He offers his hand and I accept, leaving the diner without a goodbye to Liv.
Once we’re on the street by Roarke’s Range Rover, I spot Allie straddled around Wyatt’s waist on a park bench in the middle of the square, lips locked, hands exploring.
“That didn’t take long to work out,” I say.
“She has no shame,” Roarke remarks as he opens up the passenger door for me.
“She’s young and in love,” I say, sliding in.
“She’s going to make his life hell.” He shuts the door and I say nothing else because coming from someone who was in a lukewarm relationship most of my adult life, a passionate relationship filled with fire and ice, doesn’t sound all that bad.
Chapter Seventeen
Roarke parks in front of a long building with a sign that says Woods Parlor High School, Home of the Spartans. An American flag flies off the flagpole and a bench sits underneath that reads, “Donated by Class of 2016.”
The parking lot has a sparse few cars in it. I’m guessing it must be the administrative staff that’s here for a few hours during summer break.
“I have to stop here really quick.” He exits the truck and by the time I open my door he’s pulling it the rest of the way open. “Wait for me next time.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever.”
“Should I reprimand you about your word choices now? You sound like Allie.”
I roll my eyes and say nothing as I walk alongside him toward the building. “You went to high school here?”
“I did.” There’s pride in his tone that I haven’t heard since we arrived in Woods Parlor. “Sorry, we don’t have ivy-covered walls and valet parking.”
“You know how I feel about assumptions, counselor.”
“Am I wrong?” he quirks an eyebrow while opening the door for me.
“No.” I chuckle and he joins me.
“So my assumption didn’t make me an ass.” He follows me into the building where we’re met with a big mural in red, white and blue, a Spartan helmet the main focus.
Taking my hand in his, he leads me to the left and then down a hall.
“How many people are here right now?” I ask.
“Are you afraid to be alone with me?”
“No. I’m just curious.”
“Probably just the athletic coaches and few janitorial staff. Summer school just ended.” He talks like he’s on the up and up about his school and I’m left wondering how involved he still is in this town.