Forgive and Forget(40)

Tom blinked at him. “I’m not sure I see the problem.”

Joe let out a laugh. “Seriously? Believe me, it’s sent more than one guy packing. That or the fact I never got past taking their number. Well, Bea would take their number. I’d say I’d call and then pretend I lost the number.”

Tom wrapped his arm around Joe and pulled him in close, giving him a kiss. “Joe, everything you said makes you all the more endearing. Don’t think of them as faults. Think of them as what makes you uniquely you. You’re one of a kind. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

Joe worried his bottom lip with his teeth. Only one guy concerned him at the moment. Joe wanted to say so much to Tom. How happy he was that he was here, how the past few weeks had been amazing, how he wished Tom could stay…. Instead, he smiled at Tom and said, “Thank you.”

Tom gave him another kiss before pushing himself to his feet. “Come on. We better head back in before Bea starts taking pictures.”

Joe stared at him. “She’s been watching us?”

“Yep. Like a hawk.” Tom held his hand out, and Joe took it, allowing Tom to help him to his feet.

Joe shook his head. He wished he could say he was surprised, but he wasn’t. She was probably dying to tell him she told him so. The woman was agile and crafty. She’d spring up from the darnedest places to tell him she was right, like some kind of white-haired ninja retiree.

Tom packed everything up, giving Joe one last kiss before he disappeared into the kitchen. Joe rolled his eyes as he passed Bea, who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch. The shop was full, the customers were happy, and his little motley crew was all high-spirited, not that they didn’t tend to be, but lately they seemed to be even more cheerful, and Joe wondered if something had been missing before that he hadn’t been aware of. There certainly wasn’t anything different about him, was there?

Soon it was closing time, and Joe bid farewell to the last customer. They all pitched in cleaning up, and Joe thanked everyone for another great day. He sent leftovers home with Donnie and Elsie, like he usually did. There was never a whole lot, but Joe would rather have leftovers at closing time than run out during the late-afternoon rush. It wasn’t like he had trouble getting rid of it. Elsie’s big brothers adored his pies and were always hopeful Elsie would be bringing some home. Donnie’s dad was also a fan. The poor guy worked late at the docks, and Joe always made sure some pie was left for him. He was a good man and had raised Donnie on his own after Donnie’s mom passed away when he was just a toddler.

Once everyone was gone, Joe turned to Tom. “How about I finish up and you use the shower? I’ll be up in a minute.”

Tom removed his apron and hung it up on the hook by the door. “You sure?”

“Positive. I won’t be long.”

“Okay. I’ll get dinner started. How’s pasta sound?” Tom’s smile lit Joe up from the inside out.

“Sounds great.” He enjoyed the view of Tom’s gorgeous backside as he headed upstairs. Despite not being able to go to a gym, Tom had been able to keep himself in shape, exercising every morning and making do with whatever he had on hand, whether it was the stairs, bags of flour, sit-ups, pushups, lunges, or a host of other routines that exhausted Joe just by looking at it. Tom was convinced he’d get Joe to join him. Joe had a hearty laugh before stuffing his face full of cherry pie. His exercise came in the form of rushing around serving his customers, baking, and going up and down the stairs from his apartment to the shop.

Joe walked into the café and gave a start at finding a man standing there in a dark hoodie and jeans. How the heck had the guy gotten in? They’d locked all the doors.

“I’m sorry, but we’re closed.”

The front door opened and several more men stepped inside, all looking equally dangerous.

Joe tried not to panic, but it was hard. His mind raced, going back to that night when he’d been jumped and beaten. Had Blake sent them? Joe’s heart leaped into his throat, and he took a step back. Not again. “We’re closed, gentlemen. I’m afraid you have to leave.”

One of the men in a leather jacket closed the door and locked it.

“Where is he?” Hoodie Guy hissed.

Behind him a man with a scar running down the side of his face joined him. “He asked you a question.”

Joe carefully backed up toward the counter. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. Please leave before I call the police.”

The men spread out across the shop. Hoodie Guy sneered. “Now that would be a very bad idea. I’m going to ask you again. Where is he?”

Joe swallowed hard. Who the hell were these guys? And why were they looking for Tom? Whatever they wanted from Tom, it couldn’t be good. Maybe it was time to invest in a new alarm system. He hadn’t updated the thing since it was installed years ago, and it had a habit of going on the fritz. Very little money was kept on-site, and he figured if someone was going risk stealing his ingredients or food processor, they might reconsider when they spotted the boutique next door that sold thousand-dollar shoes.

“Listen, I don’t want any trouble,” Joe said, hands up in front of him. What should he do? It was hard to concentrate when all he could think about was the men Blake’s father had sent after him. His brow was beaded with sweat, and his hands felt clammy. You need to do something, Joe. Don’t just stand there waiting for them to hurt you. Do something!