“There’s a lot more overlap with our ideas than I’d expected,” I admitted.
“Well, the recipes originated with two former best friends who ran a food stand together.”
I laughed. “Good point.” I propped my elbow on the back of the couch and pulled my knee onto the cushion between us. “I’ve got to ask, what are your thoughts on this whole rivalry thing?”
Mickey’s eyes widened. “Are we really going there?”
I blew out a breath. “I think we should. I’ve been giving it some thought, and we’re the only people who really get it, maybe even each other, you know?”
Mickey studied me for a long moment. I couldn’t blame him for his skepticism, but I had to put it out there. He’d been so easy to talk to on Halloween and tonight. Iwantedthis conversation with him. The diner had only been a background player in my life after I’d moved away, but since I’d come back, I craved having someone to talk to about it. Sage was too invested, but Mickey would understand and not judge.
He nodded once. “You’re right. Honestly? I’m so fucking tired of it.”
MICKEY
Decades of weight fell from my shoulders as frantic laughter bubbled out of me. I waited for Amos to judge me, but his expression held nothing but understanding.
“I’ve never said that to anyone before.” I scrubbed my hand over my face. “Wow.”
A warm hand settled on my thigh, bringing comfort. “I get it. I’m tired of it too, and I don’t have to deal with it every day like you and Sage.”
“I mean, I get it. People love rivalries, especially ones that have lasted for generations. But sometimes it feels like it makeslife more difficult than it needs to be.” I couldn’t believe the blasphemous words spilling from my mouth. Dad would be so hurt.
Amos leaned close and lowered his voice. “Hey, if you want to eat at Sparky’s, let me know and I’ll sneak you some takeout at the back door. No big deal.”
A loud laugh escaped. Amos stared at me with wonder in his eyes and a soft smile on his lips that was more intimate than I was used to seeing on him.
“Eh, thanks, but the Yelp reviews are kinda sketchy.”
He pushed my thigh. “Rude.” Laughter brightened his words.
Before he pulled his hand back, I covered it with mine and squeezed. “Amos? Thanks. I’ve never had anyone I could say that to. I appreciate it.” I was more grateful than I could express.
It was hard to stop myself from spilling more and confessing that I didn’t want to take over the diner. The life I wanted for myself was passing out cheese samples at the farmers’ market and seeing my creations in local markets before stopping in at Red’s a couple of times a week to enjoy a meal as a customer. I didn’t want to be the one serving food, making small talk with dozens of people each day, and having to keep a classic Americana diner afloat in a world of food trucks and food delivery.
“You’re welcome. I felt the same when I was still living here, but I never said anything to Sage. They’ve always been so excited to take over.”
I squashed my envy. I wished I could feel the same as Sage. It would make everything so much easier.
Amos glanced at our hands, then back at me. He wet his lips. “We have more in common than I would’ve expected.”
I swayed toward him like my body was reacting to a gravitational pull.
“You’re telling me. Can you keep what I said a secret?”
Amos almost looked offended. “Of course. I’m not about to submit a hot tip toMaplewood Matters.” His voice was comically haughty.
I chuckled. “Thanks.”
“But if you could send me home with some of that cheese, it would guarantee my discretion.”
“Cheese slut.” My cheeks pulled taut with a wide smile.
“Blasphemy.” Amos leaned toward me and glanced at my lips.
Every molecule in my body wanted to taste him again and continue what we’d started.
Only inches separated us when a loud buzz startled us apart. Amos’s phone buzzed again between his wine glass and the snack tray.
