Blossom Street Brides (Blossom Street #10)(16)

Within minutes of their reunion, Bethanne and Max had left the yarn store. Rooster glanced across the street at The French Cafe and his stomach growled, reminding him that it had been hours since they’d briefly stopped for lunch. As he recalled, the croissants at the small deli-style restaurant were buttery and flaky.

He headed across the street and ordered coffee and a croissant to tide him over until dinner. He took the plate outside to a vacant table and sat under an umbrella in order to watch the passersby. He enjoyed people watching and realized that said a lot about him and his personality. Never one to seek the limelight himself, he took pleasure in observing others.

Before they’d left California, Rooster had booked a hotel room for the weekend in downtown Seattle. Max remained conflicted, but Rooster could read the handwriting on the wall when it came to the future of their wine-distribution business. Sooner or later Max, who owned the controlling portion of the partnership, would need to make a decision, and as far as Rooster could see it boiled down to two options—either sell it or move it.

No matter what Max decided, Rooster was tired of living in California. He was ready for a change, so if Max were to decide to relocate, Rooster wouldn’t have a problem with the move. He’d spent a fair amount of time in the Seattle area over the years and enjoyed the lush green forests and blue skies.

Rooster was glad he’d arrived at The French Cafe when he did. The small cafe and bakery, which was now open for dinner, did a bustling business, and soon the tables inside started to fill up.

The yarn store closed at six, and he watched Lydia turn the sign over on the door. A couple moments later the woman who’d been knitting with Bethanne left the shop.

Rooster had noticed her right away. Hard not to, with those piercing blue eyes and that dark hair. The combination was striking. She was an eye-catcher for sure—classy, too. Nicely dressed as she was in a pink suit, he guessed she must work in one of the office buildings downtown. He especially liked her choice of jewelry. She wore a cameo with matching earrings. He remembered his mother had a similar one, although he didn’t know what had happened to it after she’d died.

He suspected the woman who wore the cameo wasn’t married, although the absence of a diamond ring was no guarantee. She had a ring on her left hand, but it was an opal surrounded by diamond chips. Generally, Rooster didn’t notice details like this, but she’d caught his eye right away. Fact was, he’d paid attention to just about everything there was to notice about her.

He remembered when Max first met Bethanne. His friend had lost his daughter, and then within a short amount of time, his wife, too. The double whammy had sent Max spiraling emotionally. In an effort to escape the pain, Max had taken to his bike, randomly traveling across the country from one state to the next, with no agenda and no purpose in mind other than to forget and to heal.

Rooster joined him intermittently, mostly to check up on Max and to tell him what was happening with the business, although at the time Max showed little interest in anything to do with their livelihood.

Then while the two of them were on the road, Max had met Bethanne and almost overnight everything had changed. First they’d followed her to Vegas and then to Branson, Missouri. Max had been smitten, big-time. At first Rooster was amused, and later he was grateful. Falling in love with Bethanne had pulled Max out of the deep emotional pit he’d slid into after such devastating losses. She’d given him a reason to move forward, both with life and the business.

Even now Rooster was convinced that if Bethanne had chosen to remarry her ex-husband, Max would have accepted her decision and returned to California to the life he had once known. Love had the power to heal, and Rooster had taken note of that lesson.

Rooster sat up straighter. To his surprise, the woman with the cameo crossed the street and headed directly for The French Cafe. She caught his gaze and smiled politely, acknowledging that she remembered him from the yarn store. She passed him and went inside the small restaurant. Within a few minutes she was back with a cup of coffee. Apparently, all the tables inside were taken, because she came outside and claimed the table on the other side of the entrance away from him. She pulled out the chair and sat so she could look out over the street. She appeared to be waiting for someone, because she glanced anxiously at her wrist and at the people coming and going along the sidewalk.

After a few moments, she hurriedly reached for her purse and brought out her cellphone. She glanced down at it and seemed to be reading a text message.

Rooster watched as she quickly typed out a response. Reading her body language was easy. Her shoulders tensed as she exhaled with what looked like irritation. Rooster guessed whoever she was waiting for was going to be late.

Seeing how busy the cafe was, it seemed a shame that they should each claim an entire table. Having finished the croissant, Rooster discarded the paper plate, reached for his coffee, stood, and approached her.

“Would you mind if I joined you?” he asked. “These tables are becoming a premium.”

She glanced up, and a look of surprise came over her before she nodded. “Sure. Why not?”

He pulled out the chair across from her. “Name’s Rooster.”

“So I heard. I’m Lauren. Lauren Elliott.” She held out her hand for him to shake. “Is your name really Rooster?”

“It’s what my friends call me.” He briefly took her soft hand in his, then leaned back in a relaxed pose and crossed his long legs, propping his ankle on his knee.