that, but he closed his truck door and came toward her, lifting a tentative hand.
“Hi. Sorry about that. I just…I’m looking for the owner.”
“You’ve found her. I’m Kaylie Flynn.”
“Flynn?” he asked, and gave a huff before a smile pulled at one side of his mouth.
Something tingled at the base of her spine. “Is there a problem?”
He shook his head. “No. Nothing. It’s just that I once had a friend with that last name. Haven’t thought of him for years.”
Ah. The surprise of nostalgia. “You are?”
“Mitch Pepper,” he said. “Luna Meadows told me you were looking for a cook. Told me I should come talk to you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mitch,” Kaylie said, offering her hand. “And there’s no need to apologize.”
He laughed again, his handshake brisk and brief. “Oh, I beg to differ, but that’s on me.”
Strange thing to say, that. “Luna said she used to work with you, I think?”
“Sor—” He held up a hand to stop himself, came closer and started again. “I cook at the Gristmill over in Gruene. She waited tables there in high school. I got her the job, actually.”
“You’ve known her a long time, then.”
“I have. Her dad, Harry, he’s one of my oldest friends. We were in the service together, and he talked me into settling here after my discharge.”
He looked to be about the right age to have been deployed during the first Gulf War, maybe just this side of fifty. “Would you like a cup of coffee, Mitch? I just brewed a pot.”
“Sure. That would be great,” he said, as she turned for the house. “This is some place.”
“It is, isn’t it? I don’t know if Luna told you, but I used to live here, years ago. I loved it so much that I had to buy it when it came on the market.” She pulled open the screen door into the kitchen. Magoo bounded through but Mitch waited, gesturing for her to go ahead. She did, smiling to herself at the show of chivalry that had her thinking again of Ten. He was similarly kind, thoughtful. She wondered what he’d think of Mitch, frowned as she wondered why his opinion mattered.
“I guess it’ll be a while before you open for business?” Mitch asked, the door bouncing shut behind him. “It looks like you just got the keys to the place.”
“About a week ago, yes.” She reached for a mug where they sat in a row on the countertop, filled it and handed it to him, then gestured to the raffia-handled shopping bag she was using for storage since the cabinets would be coming down soon. “I’ve got sugar and sweetener, and cream in the fridge.”
“Black is fine, thanks,” he said, and blew across the mug’s surface before sipping. “When do you plan to be up and running?”
“Memorial Day weekend,” she said, topping off her own mug.
“So you’ve got a building contractor lined up?”
“I do. He came with great references. Even Luna approved.”
“Luna’s got good taste. And a good sense about people.”
“She seemed anxious that I consider you for the cook’s position.”
He gave a huff of breath as if tickled. “I got the same pressure.”
“And here you are.”
“Here I am.”
“Even though you already have a job.”
“I explained that to her. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Kaylie canted her head, considered him. “So is there any point to our talking about the position?”
“I wouldn’t have come otherwise. My time’s too valuable to waste. I imagine yours is, too.”
Honesty. Integrity. Respect. “If you worked with Luna when she was in high school, you must’ve been cooking at the Gristmill for, what? A dozen years?”
“Closer to fifteen. It’s been quite a long haul.”
“You know this isn’t full-time, yes? Luna explained that?”
He nodded, holding her gaze, his fashionable black glasses framing eyes as green as her own. “She did. If this turns out to be something I’m interested in, I’d cut back on my hours in Gruene. Can’t be in two places at one
“Hi. Sorry about that. I just…I’m looking for the owner.”
“You’ve found her. I’m Kaylie Flynn.”
“Flynn?” he asked, and gave a huff before a smile pulled at one side of his mouth.
Something tingled at the base of her spine. “Is there a problem?”
He shook his head. “No. Nothing. It’s just that I once had a friend with that last name. Haven’t thought of him for years.”
Ah. The surprise of nostalgia. “You are?”
“Mitch Pepper,” he said. “Luna Meadows told me you were looking for a cook. Told me I should come talk to you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mitch,” Kaylie said, offering her hand. “And there’s no need to apologize.”
He laughed again, his handshake brisk and brief. “Oh, I beg to differ, but that’s on me.”
Strange thing to say, that. “Luna said she used to work with you, I think?”
“Sor—” He held up a hand to stop himself, came closer and started again. “I cook at the Gristmill over in Gruene. She waited tables there in high school. I got her the job, actually.”
“You’ve known her a long time, then.”
“I have. Her dad, Harry, he’s one of my oldest friends. We were in the service together, and he talked me into settling here after my discharge.”
He looked to be about the right age to have been deployed during the first Gulf War, maybe just this side of fifty. “Would you like a cup of coffee, Mitch? I just brewed a pot.”
“Sure. That would be great,” he said, as she turned for the house. “This is some place.”
“It is, isn’t it? I don’t know if Luna told you, but I used to live here, years ago. I loved it so much that I had to buy it when it came on the market.” She pulled open the screen door into the kitchen. Magoo bounded through but Mitch waited, gesturing for her to go ahead. She did, smiling to herself at the show of chivalry that had her thinking again of Ten. He was similarly kind, thoughtful. She wondered what he’d think of Mitch, frowned as she wondered why his opinion mattered.
“I guess it’ll be a while before you open for business?” Mitch asked, the door bouncing shut behind him. “It looks like you just got the keys to the place.”
“About a week ago, yes.” She reached for a mug where they sat in a row on the countertop, filled it and handed it to him, then gestured to the raffia-handled shopping bag she was using for storage since the cabinets would be coming down soon. “I’ve got sugar and sweetener, and cream in the fridge.”
“Black is fine, thanks,” he said, and blew across the mug’s surface before sipping. “When do you plan to be up and running?”
“Memorial Day weekend,” she said, topping off her own mug.
“So you’ve got a building contractor lined up?”
“I do. He came with great references. Even Luna approved.”
“Luna’s got good taste. And a good sense about people.”
“She seemed anxious that I consider you for the cook’s position.”
He gave a huff of breath as if tickled. “I got the same pressure.”
“And here you are.”
“Here I am.”
“Even though you already have a job.”
“I explained that to her. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Kaylie canted her head, considered him. “So is there any point to our talking about the position?”
“I wouldn’t have come otherwise. My time’s too valuable to waste. I imagine yours is, too.”
Honesty. Integrity. Respect. “If you worked with Luna when she was in high school, you must’ve been cooking at the Gristmill for, what? A dozen years?”
“Closer to fifteen. It’s been quite a long haul.”
“You know this isn’t full-time, yes? Luna explained that?”
He nodded, holding her gaze, his fashionable black glasses framing eyes as green as her own. “She did. If this turns out to be something I’m interested in, I’d cut back on my hours in Gruene. Can’t be in two places at one
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