Her suggestion didn’t surprise Jason in the least. Leesa Jordan was the best person he knew. And here was the ultimate testament to what Grandma Kate had told him that first night here in Lusty. Leesa might have a temper, but she didn’t hold a grudge long.
He met Phillip’s gaze then nodded.
“Yeah. Let’s go do that little thing.” After all, they both owed the man more than they could ever repay.
Chapter Twenty-One
Leesa settled into her seat at Lusty Appetites. Jason was on her left, but straight across from her sat her ex-husband. It was her day off, but when she’d come into the restaurant, nearly everyone had greeted her. Even Grandma Kate, who’d given her a sweet hug, had come over to see how she was doing. Carrie and Tracy were working the kitchen and had run out to hug her. Ginny, Bernice, and Rachel were serving. They all had given her strong hugs, too, and, to their credit, bestowed polite nods and greetings to Bryce.
Looking around, she recognized so many people. Robert Jessop was having lunch with his brother Marc. The paramedics were having lunch with their wife, Carol. Two of Carrie, Chase, and Brian’s hands, Alan Wilson and Duncan Moore, were having lunch with Cord and Jackson Benedict, who were also, in a way, their employers.
Leesa realized with a bit of a start that there wasn’t a single person in the place she didn’t know.
“Looks like you’ve made a place for yourself here,” Bryce said. “Everyone knows you and obviously likes you.”
“Lusty has become home to me. This is a good place to live.”
“It is that,” Jason said. His smile drew hers out. She’d already decided, as much as she loved Lusty, that if her men wanted to head back to New York, well, she was certain she wouldn’t have any trouble finding work there.
They all ordered lunch—burgers all around—and then ate and conversed in what she could only call a congenial manner. The lunch wasn’t as strained as she thought it might be. They talked of general things, places and movies and the odd bits of minutia that came to mind in such circumstances. Once the meal had been eaten, they began to speak of the night before—and what had led up to it.
“I never had a clue that Bates—sorry, Bateman—was a nark,” Bryce said. He shook his head as he sat back in his seat. “Hell, in country, we watched him, and Jerry Levine get high a few times, so we figured for sure he wasn’t a cop.” Bryce leaned forward. “Jerry and Bates were the only ones who used the stuff. I stayed away from it. I was just trying to, you know, to have a little side hustle.” He fell quiet for a moment. Leesa sensed he was thinking, weighing his words. Then he shook his head again. “As lately as a couple of weeks ago, I believed the side hustle was the way to go. But over the last couple of days, I’ve been rethinking things.”
He took a moment to drink the rest of his sweet tea then set down his glass and met her gaze. “When Bateman held that gun to my head and made me call you, I was certain I was a dead man. I didn’t think you’d come—hell, I didn’t deserve for you to come. But you not only came, you brought reinforcements. You saved my life. Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome.”
Leesa paid attention, and it did surprise her some to see a look on Bryce she’d never seen before. Humility.
“It’s like I have a second chance today, you know? And maybe I needed to come close to dying. I need to do some hard and fast thinking about the way I’ve lived my life. The choices I’ve made…hell they’ve been crappy. I need to decide if I want to spend the rest of my life being nothing more than an angry loser. That doesn’t sit well, knowing that’s what I am—that’s all I am, really. But it’s the truth, and I have to face it.”
“I believe in redemption and second chances,” Leesa said, “and I believe that a person can do any damn thing they want to do, if they work hard enough to do it.”
“I guess I’ll see if I can figure things out and get them done.”
“Now?”
Leesa, with everyone else, looked over at Alan Wilson, who’d shouted that one panicked word and was on his feet, his cell phone pressed to his ear.
“What?” Duncan Moore set down his fork and appeared to focus on his best friend.
He lowered the phone and, to Duncan, said, “Holly’s in labor.” Then he seemed to remember she was on the other end of his cell. He brought it back up to his ear. “Hang on, baby. We’re on our way.”
“Go,” Jackson Benedict said. “We’ve got this.” As the two cowboys raced from the restaurant, another cell phone chimed, and Cord answered the call.
He got to his feet and looked at Jackson. “How far apart are the contractions?” He shook his head. “Never mind. We’re coming, Ari. Breathe, Red, breathe!”
“Hang on, Tinker Bell!” Jackson shouted that toward Cord, and presumably the open phone line.
They, too, ran from the restaurant. “Babies are on their way, apparently.” Robert Jessop shook his head even as he answered his own phone. “Hey, little brother, you’ll never guess what….okay, whoa! Kelsey’s there? Okay, I’m on my way. But so, apparently, are Ari Benedict and Holly Wilson-Moore.” Robert got to his feet. “And yes, indeed, it is time to implement plan Hot-Holy-Hell. But we’re in luck. The family’s all right here.” Robert closed his phone, and then he looked over at the paramedics. “Warren? Ed?”
“On our way.” They left their lunches, and their wife, and headed
