Cross, meet Verna. She makes the best cobblers around.”
“Cobbler?” Ella perked up. She didn’t eat sweets often, but she missed her grandmother’s delightful peach or berry ones.
“You’re going to eat breakfast first, aren’t you?” Trent asked.
“Oh, yeah. I’m starved. I’ll order the dessert after a real meal.” She looked down at her menu.
Verna cleared her throat. “Something to drink while you look?”
“Coffee, please. Some water too,” Ella asked, raising her head with a smile.
“Be right back.” Verna winked at Trent before ducking behind the counter.
Trent nodded at the menu. “Go ahead, find what you want. I’ll tell you the rest while we wait for our food.”
“If it’s hard, you don’t have to.”
Trent licked his lips, glancing down at the table as he shifted in his seat. A second later, it dawned on her what she’d implied. Heat infused her cheeks as he slowly met her gaze with a sexy smirk.
God, he’s temptation incarnate.
Ella quickly redirected, “What are you having?”
“Country fried steak and eggs.” His mouth tipped in a sexy smirk. “You?”
Her smile quirked. “Eggs Benedict. Haven’t had it in forever.” Guilt trickled through her. “My grandmother used to make it for me. Fresh, homemade Hollandaise sauce. It was the best.”
“Did you lose her?”
“A few years ago. Heart attack.” Ella looked down at her hands that were folded on the table. “I miss her.”
“Sorry. That has to be difficult.”
“It was. Work kept me away from my family. I didn’t get to see her very often.” Ella looked out the window and let out a breath.
He couldn’t resist reaching over to take her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.” Blinking, she turned toward him again with a sad smile. “Sorry.”
Verna chose that moment to come back to the table. He took his hand away when Verna cleared her throat before asking Ella for her order.
* * * *
Once they were alone, Trent took a breath and shifted the focus to him, hoping to relieve the guilt she obviously felt. “I was on duty the day my sister’s house burned down. We got there and neither Tina nor Blaze was outside. I rushed in and found the little guy trying to pull his mom to the door while the fire raged around them.”
Her gaze intensified. “But you got them out, right?”
“I did. She’d overdosed on meth. With Blaze there. She swears she’d been clean for months. But her dealer was there, demanding money. They think he set the house on fire. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“And you’re mad because she endangered your nephew?”
“Yeah, her own son. I don’t understand. Her little boy was in the house when this all went down. He only heard yelling and banging, then smelled smoke and risked his life trying to save her.”
This time, it was Ella who reached over to squeeze his hand but didn’t keep contact for long. “Have you talked to her? Maybe listened to what she had to say?”
“I tried, but she won’t take responsibility.”
Ella frowned, then asked, “How long has she been in rehab?”
“Almost four months this time. Mom and Dad say she’s come a long way. She’s choosing to stay, but Blaze feels like she doesn’t love him anymore.” Trent scrubbed both hands over his short hair. “I don’t get it.”
“Maybe she wants to be clean this time, for good. Addiction is a scary thing. I’ve watched friends battle it. Sometimes they can just quit, and some have to shut themselves off from everyone to find their strength.”
“That what you’re doing?”
She dipped her head slowly. “Not because of addiction.”
He reached out and ran his fingers over the burn scar covering her wrist. “Someone do this to you?”
“Something like that.”
“Someone you knew?”
She turned away again. “No. But I really don’t want to think about that right now. I can’t yet.”
“Hey, Ella, look at me.”
She did, reluctantly. “What?” she
“Cobbler?” Ella perked up. She didn’t eat sweets often, but she missed her grandmother’s delightful peach or berry ones.
“You’re going to eat breakfast first, aren’t you?” Trent asked.
“Oh, yeah. I’m starved. I’ll order the dessert after a real meal.” She looked down at her menu.
Verna cleared her throat. “Something to drink while you look?”
“Coffee, please. Some water too,” Ella asked, raising her head with a smile.
“Be right back.” Verna winked at Trent before ducking behind the counter.
Trent nodded at the menu. “Go ahead, find what you want. I’ll tell you the rest while we wait for our food.”
“If it’s hard, you don’t have to.”
Trent licked his lips, glancing down at the table as he shifted in his seat. A second later, it dawned on her what she’d implied. Heat infused her cheeks as he slowly met her gaze with a sexy smirk.
God, he’s temptation incarnate.
Ella quickly redirected, “What are you having?”
“Country fried steak and eggs.” His mouth tipped in a sexy smirk. “You?”
Her smile quirked. “Eggs Benedict. Haven’t had it in forever.” Guilt trickled through her. “My grandmother used to make it for me. Fresh, homemade Hollandaise sauce. It was the best.”
“Did you lose her?”
“A few years ago. Heart attack.” Ella looked down at her hands that were folded on the table. “I miss her.”
“Sorry. That has to be difficult.”
“It was. Work kept me away from my family. I didn’t get to see her very often.” Ella looked out the window and let out a breath.
He couldn’t resist reaching over to take her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.” Blinking, she turned toward him again with a sad smile. “Sorry.”
Verna chose that moment to come back to the table. He took his hand away when Verna cleared her throat before asking Ella for her order.
* * * *
Once they were alone, Trent took a breath and shifted the focus to him, hoping to relieve the guilt she obviously felt. “I was on duty the day my sister’s house burned down. We got there and neither Tina nor Blaze was outside. I rushed in and found the little guy trying to pull his mom to the door while the fire raged around them.”
Her gaze intensified. “But you got them out, right?”
“I did. She’d overdosed on meth. With Blaze there. She swears she’d been clean for months. But her dealer was there, demanding money. They think he set the house on fire. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“And you’re mad because she endangered your nephew?”
“Yeah, her own son. I don’t understand. Her little boy was in the house when this all went down. He only heard yelling and banging, then smelled smoke and risked his life trying to save her.”
This time, it was Ella who reached over to squeeze his hand but didn’t keep contact for long. “Have you talked to her? Maybe listened to what she had to say?”
“I tried, but she won’t take responsibility.”
Ella frowned, then asked, “How long has she been in rehab?”
“Almost four months this time. Mom and Dad say she’s come a long way. She’s choosing to stay, but Blaze feels like she doesn’t love him anymore.” Trent scrubbed both hands over his short hair. “I don’t get it.”
“Maybe she wants to be clean this time, for good. Addiction is a scary thing. I’ve watched friends battle it. Sometimes they can just quit, and some have to shut themselves off from everyone to find their strength.”
“That what you’re doing?”
She dipped her head slowly. “Not because of addiction.”
He reached out and ran his fingers over the burn scar covering her wrist. “Someone do this to you?”
“Something like that.”
“Someone you knew?”
She turned away again. “No. But I really don’t want to think about that right now. I can’t yet.”
“Hey, Ella, look at me.”
She did, reluctantly. “What?” she
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