“Okay. Done.”
The relief was clear on his face, making a strange feeling of pride settle inside me that I’d said the right thing. I often said the wrong thing, so it felt like I scored unexpected points in a challenge I didn’t know I was participating in.
“You gonna take a seat or block the walkway?” a familiar, playful voice said from beside me, but Milo immediately tensed up.
“There’s plenty of room. We’re not blocking anything,” he replied, back straight, arms crossed, and head held high. Milo’s response hadn’t been said in the same joking tone as Kris’s.
Kris and Megan looked at him, then me. Fuck. It wasn’t often I didn’t want to see my best friend, but for some reason, tonight was one of those evenings.
“We didn’t mean… He was joking,” Meg said.
“Oh. Strange joke. It’s not a very good one,” Milo said, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“Milo, this is my best friend, Kris, who thinks he’s funny but isn’t. And this is his wife, Megan, who could do better, but I guess she feels bad for him.”
“Ha-ha.” Kris wrapped an arm around my shoulders and tried to playfully put me in a headlock.
I shoved him off. “Guys, this is Milo, the new owner of Little Beach Books.” And my shop, but I wasn’t going to say that.
Recognition sparked in their gazes, which then turned curious and leery because no one knew his plans for the building. We were protective of our space on the island. We didn’t want to be one of those places that was all for show and more touristy than anything else.
“Nice to meet you,” Megan said.
“We’re going to eat,” I replied.
“Want to sit together?” Kris asked.
“No,” I rushed out and saw Milo relax, but the truth was, I hadn’t done it for him. I wanted to spend more time getting to know him. “We’re going to be quick. Then I need to get Milo to his hotel.”
Kris’s brows pulled together, but they said goodbye. We sat on opposite sides of the restaurant. The second we were in our booth, Milo said, “Your friend is weird.”
“That he is, but he’s a good guy.” I grabbed the menus from the lobster’s grasp and handed one to Milo.
“Is now a good time to mention I’m a vegetarian?”
“Hey, Gideon, who’s your friend?” Daria asked. She and I went to high school together, and now she waitressed here part-time.
“We’re not friends,” Milo answered, and Daria’s eyes practically fell out of her head in confusion.
“There you go, hurtin’ my feelings again,” I teased.
“I didn’t mean we won’t be, but we just…we only met today. We don’t know enough about each other yet.” Milo looked at Daria. “Wilma Allen was my grandmother. She left me the building where he lives and works.” He always called her that, I’d noticed, by her first and last name. Because they’d never met? To keep himself at an emotional distance?
“I’m sorry about your loss.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t know her. I wish I had. I’m going to talk to her lover soon. I’m excited to learn more about her,” Milo said honestly.
I grinned.
“Oh…um…wow. What can I get you guys to drink?”
“I’ll just take water, and I’m getting really hungry, so can I order a salad? All veggies, please. No meat. Cheese is fine. And a side of…hmm…French fries. Or mozzarella sticks. Do you want to share those with me?” His gaze met mine.
“Sure.” I turned to Daria. “I’ll have the chicken club.”
“Will do. I’ll get that right out to you both,” she replied and left.
“Does she not like Gene?” he asked.
“No, I think she’s just not used to people calling him Wilma’s lover.”
He shrugged. “That’s what he was, wasn’t it? I can say boyfriend, but that sounds odd for them too. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We’re going to chat tomorrow. Did I tell you?”
“Nope, you didn’t.”
“I’m also going to meet Rachel at the bookstore to make plans to reopen. I have so much to learn, though…”
“So you’re planning to reopen? Stick around?” I held my breath even though he’d basically just said so.
“Of course. It was Wilma Allen’s dream. Plus, I don’t love being an accountant. I feel like I haven’t found that special thing that’s mine. You know, the one I want above all else. I guess I’m trying to find my place in the world.”
“You and me both,” I replied, but for whatever reason, I hadn’t expected it from him. Milo just seemed to know who he was, to be that person, and nothing else mattered.
“Really?” he asked.
“Yep. I mean, I know I love tattooing. That’s what I want to do. And I love my shop, but outside of my career…” I shrugged. “Who the fuck knows?”
He smiled widely. “Maybe we’ll figure it out together.”
My pulse drummed against my skin. I wanted that. “Maybe we will, though you should probably figure out if you want to be friends with me first.” I winked.