Dawn Robertson - Finding Willow

“Sweet or savoury?”

“Sweet,” he deadpans. “Definitely sweet.”

“Sweet it is.”

Shortly after Elijah sits down, Sammy sidles up beside him and they jump head first into a lengthy discussion about the bike Elijah rides. Sam’s quick to point out that his older model bike has nothing on a Fat Boy. He even folds his arms over his chest and frowns the way our dad would.

Holly pinches my arm while I’m preparing Elijah’s pie. I’ve really got to get a new best friend, one who’s against physical violence.

“Wanna tell me what that was about?” she whispers.

“Just having a little fun, is all.”

“A little fun? Ana, there’s fun and then there’s suicidal. You just told him your dad was gay and enjoyed seeing his employees prance around half-naked. That might work here; he did knock up the evil bitch stepmum, after all, but at the garage? Bob’s going to annihilate this kid.”

“I know, but think how fun it will be to watch him walking around shirtless and yelling at my dad all summer.”

“You are a bad, bad girl, Ana Belle,” she whispers conspiratorially.

“So they keeping telling me,” I answer back, but even I hear how the smile has left my voice.

I set the pie down before Elijah and Sam’s eyes go saucer wide. “No way. You gave him a thlice of Ana Cabana thuprithe pie?”

“Yep. If you pack up your things I’ll get you a slice and a milkshake.”

“Can Elijah have a milkthake too?”

“If Elijah wants a milkshake?”

“Oh, Elijah wants a milkshake.” He smiles and the dimples come out swinging. I just wanna sit down and admire the holy mother of hotness that is decrepit-bike-riding, tattoo-sleeved, dimple-popping, Elijah Cade.

He’s staring at me expectantly. It’s obvious he’s spoken and, in all my fan-girling, I’ve completely missed it.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Vanilla. The milkshake. Can you make it vanilla? It’s my favourite.” He winks and shovels more pie into his mouth.

Without another word I stalk back to the kitchen. My heart is in my throat, trying as best it can to abandon this sinking ship. What the hell was I thinking, flirting with a guy like that? He’s going to be working for my dad, which means I’ll see him every day. And probably sooner rather than later he’ll figure out that I tricked him. He’ll more than likely hear the rumours about me. Maybe he already has, and that’s why he’s coming on so strong. Elijah Cade is the last thing I need.

I can hear him and Sam talking out in the diner. The milkshake machine stops whirring and the noise of Holly slamming down the metal cups on the table in front of the boys reaches my ears.

“There’s your vanilla milkshake,” she snaps. Her footsteps pound toward me.

“Uh, thanks,” Elijah calls after her.

“My mumth a huthy,” Sammy pipes up and I cringe and curse Holly under my breath.

Copyright 2013 Dawn Robertson

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.