“Doesn’t look like anyone is home,” I say after a minute passes.
“That was anti-climactic,” Chloe says seriously, rubbing the belly of a tabby cat. “And I’m still hungry.”
“Me too. Want to go to Silver Cafe?”
“Heck yes.”
I extend my hand for her. “Let’s go then.”
We hurry back to the car and make the drive back into town. My parents live on the outskirts of Silver Ridge, surrounded by farmland that suited us as children. We had all sorts of livestock growing up, from llamas to a draft horse Mason insisted on showing in 4H but lost interest right before the county fair. Rory showed him instead, and impressed everyone with how well she could control a seventeen-hand-high Percheron when she was only twelve years old. Mom named the horse Barry Manilow and we hated it then. Now, as an adult, I appreciate the silly name much more. We had Barry for four years before he was donated to an equine therapy facility, and he died at the happy old age of twenty-seven, surrounded by his trainers. It’s almost weird how much that sticks out in my mind when I had little to do with that horse. I was in the thick of my residency when he died and didn’t have the time to miss a childhood pet. We had so many of them growing up, anyway.
“Crap,” Chloe groans, wrinkling her nose. “It looks busy.”
We just pulled into the parking lot of Silver Cafe. The parking lot is littered with autumn leaves that got heavy from the rainfall and fell off the trees. I know just by looking at the soggy, red and orange leaves that the air is going to smell wonderfully sweet as soon as I open the car doors.
“A table for two shouldn’t take too long,” I tell her, finding a spot at the back of the parking lot. I put my arm around her and hold the umbrella over us both as we walk. The rain is slowing now, but the thunder booming overhead lets us know the storm is far from over.
“Are you cold?” I ask Chloe when we get into the waiting area of the restaurant. I already gave our name, and we have a short wait time, thankfully.
“I am. That rain went right through me.” She shivers and wraps her arms around herself. I’m wearing a long-sleeved Henley shirt with no jacket. If I had one, I’d take it off and give it to her. Chloe is dressed in black leggings and an off-the-shoulder gray sweater. She’s not wearing a bra, and the faint outlines of her nipples through the thick fabric are doing bad things to me.
“Come here, babe,” I say and wrap my arms around her.
“Mmhhh, you’re so warm,” she says, and steps closer. We could stand like this until the hostess calls my name, and I’d be perfectly happy with it.
“Sam?” someone else calls instead. Both Chloe and I look up and see a woman with short blonde hair standing a few feet from us. Her face is familiar, yet it takes me a second to recall her name. “It is you.” The woman smiles, sweeping her eyes up and down me. “Oh, and hi, Chloe,” she adds with a sigh.
Lauren. That’s the blonde woman’s name.
And by the way she’s glaring at Chloe, it looks like there’s going to be trouble.12Chloe“Hi, Lauren,” I say, offering a polite smile, not that I owe her one.
“Wow, I’m so surprised to see you,” Lauren goes on. She’s looking at Sam, working hard to ignore the fact that I was just wrapped in his arms. “What are you doing back here?”
“Chloe and I came to see my parents,” Sam says and rests his hand on the curve of my waist. I never wanted to let Sam have even the slightest inkling of how people treated me during our childhood years. I think it was a well-known fact that I was an outcast at school, thanks to being called Creepy Chloe during all four of my high school years. He didn’t seem to have the slightest idea who Lauren was when we ran into her several weeks ago, back when I was trying my best to prove to myself and the world that Sam Harris was nothing more than an asshole…a walking heartbreak…nothing more than a bad idea.
“Oh, uh, how sweet.” Lauren’s eyes dart to me for half a second. “I’m surprised to see you back here…with her.”
“Chloe’s my girlfriend,” Sam says. “I don’t know why that’s surprising.”
Lauren opens her mouth only to snap it shut. “Well, good for you two.” She presses a fake smile and looks at Sam, doing her best to avoid me. “You do know your parents are sitting over there, right?” She motions to the other side of the restaurant. “I recognized your brother, the vet.”