TWISTED FATE (Twisted Path Book 1)

Chapter 7

Shane

Having grown up in this town, I've always appreciated Rosie's Diner as the iconic treasure of Ruby Creek. With its modern take on the Golden Age of the 1950s, walking through the door is like entering a time warp back to that nostalgic period where stability and hope for a brighter future ruled. Between the black-and-white checkerboard tile, bright red chairs around white tables, and the authentic 1950s paraphernalia—including an old-style jukebox—being here is an escape from the complexities of the modern world.

People come from miles away to see this place, descending upon our little town year after year, just to get lost in the ambiance. Though I could always appreciate the appeal, I never truly understood it until now.

Wow!

It's the one word that comes to mind when she turns the corner, completely stealing my breath. While I've seen her in her uniform many times before, this is the image I'll forever hold on to and recall for the rest of my days.

She stands before me like a dream in her vintage 1950s waitressing uniform. The red-and-white pinstripe dress flares below her waist, stopping just around mid-thigh, perfectly spotlighting those sexy legs I'd give anything to have wrapped around me. The way the white apron accentuates her thin waist, highlighting the shapely flare of her hips, forces me to bite back a groan. Her silky brown hair is tied back away from her face, accentuating those big hazel eyes that peer at me with a mix of conflicting emotions. The sight snaps me out of my lust-induced haze and tugs me back into the present with the force of an invisible rope.

Stepping towards her, I'm filled with ambivalence. I can see she's overwhelmed and needs my help to get through this next part, but she's so darn skittish I'm afraid any move I make might scare her. Before I can overthink it, I reach for her hand. The feel of her soft skin against mine, as her fingers instinctively wrap around mine like we've done it a million times in a past life, feels like coming home. It's a sensation that's seconded by the sudden spark of need that zaps through every part of my body, demanding I take her into my arms and breathe her in.

If I was unsure of what Becca was to me before, I know with absolute certainty what she is to me now. She's my fate. My soul mate. The woman who was put on this earth for me to care for, to love, to build a life with.

Down to the marrow of my bone, I know she's meant to be mine.

To my relief, she doesn't pull away, not even as I tug her to follow me to the back of the room where her study table awaits. Though she's allowing my touch, the look on her face is one of uncertainty, her brows drawn down in a considerable frown, especially when she notices the laptop sitting there waiting for her.

"It's a loan," I rush to explain, hoping to silence the objection on the tip of her tongue. "It will cut back on how long it takes for you to finish since you won't need to handwrite it and then take it to the library to type it up."

"A loan," she repeats like she's in a daze, though I can see her mind racing like she's trying to ascertain my motives.

"Yes. It's an old computer. An extra. I got a new one for my birthday, so I kept this one around as a spare." Not entirely the truth, but I don't feel an ounce of guilt since I'm right. Typing the first draft will save her a ton of time, guaranteeing she'll make the deadline. After how she reacted yesterday when I offered to help her financially, I knew there was no way she would accept a new computer from me. So instead, I went out last night and bought myself a new one, figuring I'd give her this one.

"Please don't overthink this, pretty girl. I'm lending it to you so you can finish your project. I promised I'd help you get it done, and this is a small part of my contribution toward that promise. When you're finished with it, it's as simple as giving it back."