Page 23 of One Last Shot
“What about London? She?—”
“No. London won’t work.”
She just stared at him. He’d suddenly gone from friendly to scary. And for some reason, she didn’t want to know why not.
Tillie returned with the boxes, but Boo left her chicken, the fries.
“What, no midnight snack for you?”
“Why, when I have a box of not-so-Lucky Charms waiting for me?”
“C’mon, Boo. Show off your amazing rescue skills. You might even have fun.”
“I’mnotgoing to have fun. What if someone dies? Like...Oaken Fox.”
“So don’t let that happen. You’re really not going to eat that chicken?”
“Knock yourself out.” She pushed away the plate. “This is a bad idea, Moose. Really bad. You don’t know—producers change footage, make it seem like you said things you never meant.” She looked out the window, but it simply reflected back the inside of the diner where Tillie was boxing up his pie.
“I’ll ask Huxley to let you review the footage.”
She knew he was sincere, but that wasn’t how it worked. Still... She folded her arms over her chest. She liked Air One. Wanted to stay. Build a life. “Okay. I’ll train him and keep him alive. But no cameos, no digging up footage ofSurvivor Quest. And most of all—when this is over, we don’t talk about it, ever.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“And as of right now, I’m off probation.” She raised an eyebrow.
“Done.” He held out a fist.
A beat, then she bumped it.
Tillie brought over the pie and picked up Moose’s card.
He gave Boo the slice. “Instead ofthe Lucky Charms.”
She took it, because, “You’re going owe me more than pie when this is done.”
He grinned as he got up. “I’m right behind you.”
She headed outside into the cold, holding her pie, looking at the stars.Perfect. Just perfect.
Because apparently, Boo Hoo Kingston was back.
Let the fun begin.
“She’s my favorite waitress.”
Moose’s stupid words followed him home like a burr under his skin after he’d dropped Boo off. As he pulled into his timber-framed home seated on the banks of the Knik River, Axel’s Yukon sat in the double garage. Moose pulled in and sat in the darkness, listening to his truck shut down.
Okay, maybe he did want to ask her out. Or at least have a longer conversation than simply an order of midnight chicken and small talk about his life.
Fact was, Tillie Young intrigued him—ever since she’d shown up a year ago on the night shift, her dark hair pulled back to reveal the tiniest red rose tattoo on her neck, and possessing a sort of demeanor that said she was more than the woman in the apron.
She didn’t exactly flirt with him but simply looked him in the eyes, gave him a real smile, and somehow knew when he needed a chocolate shake or a piece of pie.
Weirdly, she felt like a friend.
He picked up his container of chicken. Still a little warm. He got out.