Jane actually paused. “I think so,” she finally said.
“Okay.” But Josie didn’t sound convinced.
Yeah. Jane wasn’t so sure she was either.
Dammit.
Dax was shocked by the way his heart thumped when Jane Kemper walked through the door of Granny Smith’s.
Max had told him Jane spent Thursday nights with her dad, so he’d resigned himself to not seeing her. He’d been enjoying his time with the rest of the Hot Cakes employees that had come out tonight though. He’d bought a few rounds and some pizzas. He’d played a few games of darts. He’d learned at least two new facts about every one of them and met four spouses.
It had been a good night.
Now it was a fantastic night.
Because she was here. They hadn’t even spoken yet, but everything in him felt happier.
That was the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him.
Because he was happy 90 percent of the time. He made the happiness happen, for himself and others. To have another person able to make him feel like that, so strongly, just by showing up, was new.
But he fucking liked it. A lot.
“So anytime you feel a little… hungry… just let me know.” Dax focused on the woman sitting on the tall stool next to him. He’d taken over one of the small round tables that was situated conveniently between the bar, the front door, the pool tables, and dart boards. That way he could see and greet everyone, no matter what they were doing, and could make sure everyone had plenty of food, drinks, and laughs.
“Hey, thanks, I’ll do that,” he told Danielle. She was one of his employees. A cute, bubbly blond who had come right over to thank him after he’d bought a round for the place. She’d been hanging at the table for about ten minutes now.
He hadn’t missed her invitation. For dinner at her place. For more at her place. He got propositioned all the time. In fact, Danielle was being pretty subtle compared to some of the offers he got.
But he wasn’t interested.
And the reason had just walked in. He’d known Jane was the reason even before she’d come through Granny’s front door. But now, seeing her here, her long red hair down around her shoulders rather than in the ponytail or French braid she wore at work, in blue jeans and a pale-blue top that fell off one shoulder and did not say Hot Cakes on it, wearing canvas tennis shoes instead of work boots, he realized she was different from his usual type but very much like Danielle.
Danielle was blond and shorter and way more OMG-Dax-you’re-amazing than Jane was. But she was a small-town Iowa girl who partied in blue jeans and did actual work with her hands. She probably saw her grandmother regularly and still went to church with the same people she’d known since preschool and probably gave directions by using things like “Take a left at Bill Reynard’s old place. You know, the place where Tom and Mary live now” instead of “Go north for two blocks.”
He’d figured out that he and Ollie were probably the only humans in the town who didn’t know where Bill Reynard had lived for fifty-two years. But he hadn’t figured out why they couldn’t just say “Take a left at Tom and Mary’s place.” Though he didn’t know Tom and Mary either. And he was amazed there was only one “Tom and Mary” in the town in the first place.
Still, Danielle had everything Jane did as far as just being a new type for him. If that was the draw he felt to Jane.
He was starting to figure out that it definitely wasn’t.
“Danielle, I need to talk to Dax. Alone.”
Suddenly Jane was there beside the table, standing between his stool and the one Danielle occupied. She didn’t look at him or greet him. He considered greeting her but decided something more interesting was going on between the women when Danielle arched a brow. She looked surprised but also annoyed.
“Well, I’m not done talking to Dax yet,” Danielle said.
Dax lifted his glass of cider, hiding his smile. Far be it from him to interrupt two beautiful women who both wanted to talk to him. Alone.
“It’s about the employee manual. Specifically, Section 47C,” Jane told her, putting a hand on her hip.
Danielle paused with her bottle of beer halfway to her lips. “It is?”
“It can be,” Jane said.
“But it’s not?” Danielle asked as if clarifying an important point, setting her beer down.
“Not yet,” Jane told her.
Danielle narrowed her eyes. Then she looked at Dax, gave him a smile, and said, “I guess I need to go.”
“Well, thanks for the invitation,” Dax said. “It was nice talking to you.”
“Sure. Anytime.” Danielle’s smile was gone instantly when she looked back at Jane. She spun on the stool and slipped to the floor. “You’re kind of a bitch.”
Jane shrugged. “Heartbroken as always to see you go.”
Danielle flounced off and Jane took her stool.
“So, hi,” Dax said, giving her a grin.
“Hi.”
“Employee manual, Section 47C?” he asked.
“Danielle knows that section well. It covers theft of company property.”
“She steals?” Dax asked.
“Not anymore.”
He grinned. “What did she take?”
“Plastic cookie boxes and tape.”
His eyebrows rose. “Like a million dollars’ worth?”
“I think it came to like a eighty-four dollars.”
“And that was a big deal?”
“Not really. I mean, she got her hand slapped for it. She was on probation for a while. But obviously kept her job.”
“Good.”
Jane tipped her head. “And for the record, I would never turn someone in for that. I do understand stealing from your employer is wrong, and I’ve disliked Danielle since eighth grade, but I thought the whole thing was ridiculous.”
“Okay. And you’re making sure I know that because?” he asked, sensing something in her tone.
“Because you should definitely not promote someone who would not turn someone in for stealing.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “I’ll be sure to put that in your employee file.”
She sat up straighter suddenly. “No. I mean, you don’t have to do that. Theoretically—”
He chuckled. “Jane.”
She stopped. “Yeah?”
“Do you really think I even know where the employee files are kept?”
She thought for two seconds and then nodded. “Good point.”
He laughed. “So if you didn’t want me to specifically know about Section 47C and Danielle and that you would be the most diligent, rule-abiding person we could promote, what was that about?”
“I was getting rid of her.”
“Because you wanted to talk to me?” He liked that. He didn’t even care what she wanted to talk about. They could talk about asparagus for all he cared. He loved making this woman laugh. He loved that she seemed to know who he was, and that she still wanted to talk to him.
“I did. I just—” She stopped and her eyes went wide. “Oh crap, she wasn’t telling you about her grandmother, was she?”
He frowned and shook his head. “No.”