"Keir wait up!"
Keir Harding whirled around on his heels and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his wind breaker, automatically searching for one of the apple-flavored candies he'd placed their earlier. Closing his fingers around a candy, he quickly and one-handedly unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth, while his other hand automatically brushed back through his thick hair.
His flame-haired, emerald-eyed, swift-smiling and enchantingly gregarious employee, Alina Marlow, was heading his direction, patently limping on her high heeled pump and waving a hand over her head, her hair blowing everywhere in the wind as she hobbled down the street.
Keir pursed his lips, trying to hide his amusement, though he knew it must show from his eyes.
A person would think, looking at Alina, that she was in the direst need of his attention. "I have to tell you something."
He highly doubted it. In the quiet section of town in which they resided, very little rated of truly direst need. Alina Marlow just happened to be one of those women for whom everything was an emergency.
He smiled as she approached, and gestured lightly in the direction of her clipboard. "What is it this time, Alina?"
She looked him straight in the eye, which surprisingly wasn't hard for her to do. At six feet four inches tall, Keir towered over most women and a good many men; but Alina was tall and lithe, a natural-born model if ever there was one.
New York would have loved her.
Alina ought to be a fancy New York runway model, now that he thought about it. She would be a raging success in the city with that hair and that figure. But Keir would never be the one to suggest such a thing to her. ALina possessed a sweet, small-town charm (that she surprisingly maintained after ending up here in RhyDin) he wouldn't was to see her lose, much less be the one who pointed her in that direction.
Keir knew firsthand how dark a big city could feel, what being around a profusion of cynical people could do to a man.
Or a woman.
He wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy, and definitely not on a small-town sweetheart like the lovely and spirited Alina Maslow. It was half the reason he'd convinced his crew to stay in RhyDin after the mishap a year and a half ago.
Keir smiled at her, and Alina returned his grim with one of her own contagious smiles. Her expression, however, remained just a little bit suspicious, from Keir's perspective. He wondered what she had to be suspicious about.
"What do you need, Alina?" he asked again, wondering if he really wanted to hear the answer, and deciding that, whatever the risk, he did want to know what was going on in that pretty head of hers, though he might live to regret it in the long run. "What is it you need me to do for you, Alina?"
"I think we ought to run off together."
Keir's jaw dropped, and for a moment he did nothing but stare at her, stunned immobile from the top of his head to the tips of his cowboy-booted feet. Even his tongue refused to work, though he tried frantically in that one moment to make a witty comeback. Or at least to say something. Anything. The moment seemed like a lifetime to Keir, but in reality it had only been the space of a breath. He blinked hard and recovered nearly as fast as he'd frozen, straightening and looking her right in the eye with a wink.
Alina was obviously trying to unsettle him. Which, he admittedly wryly, and only to himself, she had done quite successfully. For that one small moment in time, he'd almost believed her.
Almost.
Not that he was going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she'd yanked the proverbial rug from under him. He had his pride. "Where do you want to run to?" he asked cryptically. "Paris" London' A tropical island in the south seas, perhaps?"
She groaned and shook her head fervently, waving him away with the open palm of her hand. "Anywhere, as long as it's not here."
He chuckled at her condor. "And what is wrong with here" I thought you liked it."
"Mmm, yes, well, let's just say that I was to see the big, wide, world before I settle down in this freak-town of insignificance."
Her tone was teasing, but Keir sensed the truth behind her words. He reached out an arm and grasped her elbow, half to guide her through the busy street and half to reassure her she wasn't alone. "Believe me, Alina, you're not missing anything. This place is as good as it gets."
She looked at him, her gaze wide, and her full lips turned down with just enough stubbornness to hint of a pout. "Don't be discouraging."
"Well, it's true. And you're avoiding my question. What's wrong with here, anyway?"
Alina just stared back at him without answering, her sparkling eyes full of the thoughts she refused to speak aloud.
He stopped and turned in front of her, forcing her to look up at him. "Alina, why do you want to run away from this place?"
The silence was deafening, at lest from Keir's point of view. He made it a rule to stay out of others' personal lives, and the one time he'd made an exception, he'd managed to stun his usually chatter-friendly employee into complete silence.
"I'm afraid I can't do Paris this afternoon," he added when she continued to stare at him as if he'd grown a second nose. "I have a cafe to open and run today. You obviously have a job to do as well, but we can do lunch if you'f like."
"Lunch?" She still looked dazed, but at least he had her talking.
"Sure, you know, a little food, a cup of strong, hot coffee...we can set every tongue in the shop waggibng without even leaving town. Stir up a little gossip, you know?"
She arched an eyebrow, and he chuckled softly at his own joke. "Waht do you say' Does that sound good to you or not?"
He turned to her side, put a hand at the small of her back and gestured her to the right, down another street that led to the rear entrance to the cafe. He didn't really want any tongue wagging—not with his name attached to them, anyway. He was staying here in RhyDin to lay low for a while, not to become a public spectacle ripe for the town gossip.
But for some reason, he felt obligated to Alina Marlow. Somewhere within the conversation, he had become personally committed to getting that beaming smile back on her lovely face, even at the expense of his own anonymity.
As if summoned by his reflection, her smile returned, illuminating her face like the lighthouse at the end of town. "It has potential."
"What has potential" The wagging tongues or the food?"
She pursed her lips, then answered decisively. "Food."
"What're you in the mood for" The Bistro or that little Omlette place down the road?" He realized as soon as he asked the question how obvious, almost foolish, it sounded. THe Bistro was clearly the type of restaurant tantamount to Alina's unique style and personality. A real gentleman would not have hesitated. He'd simply have taken her to the classy joint.
"The Omlette place," she said immediately, to Keir's surprise. She tuggedo n his arm so he would face her. "and I'm buying."
His pride welled up in quick defense. "I was the one who suggested it, Alina, I'm buying." he retorted in a vain attempt to salvage what was lef of his injured male dignity.
Alina snorted a laugh and took his arm, pulling him closer to the cafe where they both worked. What annoyed him most was that he let her do it.
"Don't be stubborn, Harding. I'm going to buy you lunch and you're going to let me." The pixieish smile the flashed him let him know without a doubt she'd won this battle.
And she knew it.
"Do you always get what you want?" he asked, reaching for his keys to unlock the backdoor. He held it open for her as the entered into the back kitchen. The sun was just now brightly shining and it simply begged to be let into the windows in the store-front.
"Yup." Alina grinned and walked the length of the seaside cafe, glancing back over her shoulder as she flipped the sign over on the front door that said, "Welcome to Becky's Place - Yes, we're open!"
Keir Harding whirled around on his heels and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his wind breaker, automatically searching for one of the apple-flavored candies he'd placed their earlier. Closing his fingers around a candy, he quickly and one-handedly unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth, while his other hand automatically brushed back through his thick hair.
His flame-haired, emerald-eyed, swift-smiling and enchantingly gregarious employee, Alina Marlow, was heading his direction, patently limping on her high heeled pump and waving a hand over her head, her hair blowing everywhere in the wind as she hobbled down the street.
Keir pursed his lips, trying to hide his amusement, though he knew it must show from his eyes.
A person would think, looking at Alina, that she was in the direst need of his attention. "I have to tell you something."
He highly doubted it. In the quiet section of town in which they resided, very little rated of truly direst need. Alina Marlow just happened to be one of those women for whom everything was an emergency.
He smiled as she approached, and gestured lightly in the direction of her clipboard. "What is it this time, Alina?"
She looked him straight in the eye, which surprisingly wasn't hard for her to do. At six feet four inches tall, Keir towered over most women and a good many men; but Alina was tall and lithe, a natural-born model if ever there was one.
New York would have loved her.
Alina ought to be a fancy New York runway model, now that he thought about it. She would be a raging success in the city with that hair and that figure. But Keir would never be the one to suggest such a thing to her. ALina possessed a sweet, small-town charm (that she surprisingly maintained after ending up here in RhyDin) he wouldn't was to see her lose, much less be the one who pointed her in that direction.
Keir knew firsthand how dark a big city could feel, what being around a profusion of cynical people could do to a man.
Or a woman.
He wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy, and definitely not on a small-town sweetheart like the lovely and spirited Alina Maslow. It was half the reason he'd convinced his crew to stay in RhyDin after the mishap a year and a half ago.
Keir smiled at her, and Alina returned his grim with one of her own contagious smiles. Her expression, however, remained just a little bit suspicious, from Keir's perspective. He wondered what she had to be suspicious about.
"What do you need, Alina?" he asked again, wondering if he really wanted to hear the answer, and deciding that, whatever the risk, he did want to know what was going on in that pretty head of hers, though he might live to regret it in the long run. "What is it you need me to do for you, Alina?"
"I think we ought to run off together."
Keir's jaw dropped, and for a moment he did nothing but stare at her, stunned immobile from the top of his head to the tips of his cowboy-booted feet. Even his tongue refused to work, though he tried frantically in that one moment to make a witty comeback. Or at least to say something. Anything. The moment seemed like a lifetime to Keir, but in reality it had only been the space of a breath. He blinked hard and recovered nearly as fast as he'd frozen, straightening and looking her right in the eye with a wink.
Alina was obviously trying to unsettle him. Which, he admittedly wryly, and only to himself, she had done quite successfully. For that one small moment in time, he'd almost believed her.
Almost.
Not that he was going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she'd yanked the proverbial rug from under him. He had his pride. "Where do you want to run to?" he asked cryptically. "Paris" London' A tropical island in the south seas, perhaps?"
She groaned and shook her head fervently, waving him away with the open palm of her hand. "Anywhere, as long as it's not here."
He chuckled at her condor. "And what is wrong with here" I thought you liked it."
"Mmm, yes, well, let's just say that I was to see the big, wide, world before I settle down in this freak-town of insignificance."
Her tone was teasing, but Keir sensed the truth behind her words. He reached out an arm and grasped her elbow, half to guide her through the busy street and half to reassure her she wasn't alone. "Believe me, Alina, you're not missing anything. This place is as good as it gets."
She looked at him, her gaze wide, and her full lips turned down with just enough stubbornness to hint of a pout. "Don't be discouraging."
"Well, it's true. And you're avoiding my question. What's wrong with here, anyway?"
Alina just stared back at him without answering, her sparkling eyes full of the thoughts she refused to speak aloud.
He stopped and turned in front of her, forcing her to look up at him. "Alina, why do you want to run away from this place?"
The silence was deafening, at lest from Keir's point of view. He made it a rule to stay out of others' personal lives, and the one time he'd made an exception, he'd managed to stun his usually chatter-friendly employee into complete silence.
"I'm afraid I can't do Paris this afternoon," he added when she continued to stare at him as if he'd grown a second nose. "I have a cafe to open and run today. You obviously have a job to do as well, but we can do lunch if you'f like."
"Lunch?" She still looked dazed, but at least he had her talking.
"Sure, you know, a little food, a cup of strong, hot coffee...we can set every tongue in the shop waggibng without even leaving town. Stir up a little gossip, you know?"
She arched an eyebrow, and he chuckled softly at his own joke. "Waht do you say' Does that sound good to you or not?"
He turned to her side, put a hand at the small of her back and gestured her to the right, down another street that led to the rear entrance to the cafe. He didn't really want any tongue wagging—not with his name attached to them, anyway. He was staying here in RhyDin to lay low for a while, not to become a public spectacle ripe for the town gossip.
But for some reason, he felt obligated to Alina Marlow. Somewhere within the conversation, he had become personally committed to getting that beaming smile back on her lovely face, even at the expense of his own anonymity.
As if summoned by his reflection, her smile returned, illuminating her face like the lighthouse at the end of town. "It has potential."
"What has potential" The wagging tongues or the food?"
She pursed her lips, then answered decisively. "Food."
"What're you in the mood for" The Bistro or that little Omlette place down the road?" He realized as soon as he asked the question how obvious, almost foolish, it sounded. THe Bistro was clearly the type of restaurant tantamount to Alina's unique style and personality. A real gentleman would not have hesitated. He'd simply have taken her to the classy joint.
"The Omlette place," she said immediately, to Keir's surprise. She tuggedo n his arm so he would face her. "and I'm buying."
His pride welled up in quick defense. "I was the one who suggested it, Alina, I'm buying." he retorted in a vain attempt to salvage what was lef of his injured male dignity.
Alina snorted a laugh and took his arm, pulling him closer to the cafe where they both worked. What annoyed him most was that he let her do it.
"Don't be stubborn, Harding. I'm going to buy you lunch and you're going to let me." The pixieish smile the flashed him let him know without a doubt she'd won this battle.
And she knew it.
"Do you always get what you want?" he asked, reaching for his keys to unlock the backdoor. He held it open for her as the entered into the back kitchen. The sun was just now brightly shining and it simply begged to be let into the windows in the store-front.
"Yup." Alina grinned and walked the length of the seaside cafe, glancing back over her shoulder as she flipped the sign over on the front door that said, "Welcome to Becky's Place - Yes, we're open!"