Beg for It Read online

  “That’s enough for tonight. You can go, take a break.”

  “You want me to order you some dinner?” Tony tucked away his phone and stood, all six feet five inches of him. He pushed the folder across the desk toward Reese. “I’m going to order in and veg out, catch up on some TV.”

  Reese twisted to look up at him. “You’re not going out? It’s Friday.”

  “I’m sure Lancaster is a hotbed of excitement if you know where to go,” Tony said, deadpan, “but tell you the truth, I’m beat. If you tell me what you want to eat, though, I’ll be glad to get something for you. There have to be some places that deliver, right?”

  “Don’t forget, this is hick city.” Reese laughed.

  Tony tilted his head. “It’s not that bad. There’s a certain charm to it. All the fields. The cows and stuff. I saw three buggies on the way here; that was pretty cool. I’m going to check out some like, quilt shops and stuff tomorrow. Buy me some of that…what’s it called? Red pepper jelly. You grew up here, have any recommendations?”

  “Not really.” Reese stretched, cracking his neck with a wince. His back and neck were killing him, and he desperately needed a run. Or a massage. Something to help him shed some of this fucking tension.

  Tony stood and, without a word, went behind Reese to work his fingers into the knots at the base of Reese’s neck. “No love for the old hometown?”

  “No.” Reese groaned, letting the other man work away at the painful spots. “Shit, that’s good.”

  Tony worked a minute or so longer, then patted Reese’s shoulders. “Want me to see if the hotel has a spa service or anything?”

  “Remember, hick town.” Reese rolled his shoulders as Tony gathered his things.

  “I bet things have changed since you were here last. Give it a chance. You might be surprised.” Tony excused himself, leaving Reese alone in the oversized hotel room.

  The business suite would never win any awards for its decor, but the design was functional and practical, two qualities Reese appreciated. The king-sized bed seemed comfortable enough. He wasn’t going to sleep much tonight, he was sure of that.

  His phone beeped and he snapped it up, sure it would be Corinne calling to apologize. Her boss hadn’t been too pleased about her abandoning the meeting, that had been clear. He’d been apologetic to the point of awkwardness about it.

  Reese should’ve told the guy right then the entire offer had been something of a scam. How he’d never intended them to take it, that Reese been caught up in a personal issue with their haughty CFO, and the only business he’d meant to finish was the unfinished business between him and Corinne. Of course he’d said nothing like that, and of course the message was not from Corinne with her hat in her hands. She wasn’t going to apologize to him, and he ought to have known better.

  The message was from Tony, double-checking that Reese didn’t want any food. He was ordering pizza and wings. Reese’s stomach grumbled. He shot back a text.

  Beer?

  They won’t deliver it, Tony replied. But we can nip down to the place around the corner if you really want to.

  Around the corner was some divey looking corner bar with neon in the window. An idea struck him, and Reese tapped a query into his phone, then shot back a text to Tony.

  I have a better idea. It’s a little longer to walk, but you’ll love it.

  Ten minutes later they were sweating in the late September heat and walking away from the hotel. Reese shouldn’t have been surprised the old place was still in business—diners rarely seemed to go under. They might change ownership a couple dozen times, but they usually managed to survive.

  He paused on the sidewalk to look up at the long silver building lit with blue lighting. The sign was different. A new logo. Same name though. Triton’s Diner had been around forever.

  Tony gave him a curious look. “You don’t want to go in?”

  “My dad used to take me here when I was a kid. Saturday mornings. We’d get up early. He’d make sure all my chores were done. Then we’d ‘sneak’ off to town to have eggs over medium and pancakes. Mom always knew, but she pretended she didn’t. They made the best hash browns here I’ve ever had in my life.” Reese laughed ruefully and shook his head. “It looks the same. But not.”

  Tony put his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. He didn’t say anything. He waited. It was one of the qualities in him that Reese appreciated most. That ability to know when silence was better than speech.

  “Let’s go in,” Reese said.

  Inside, the young waitress who seated them sported multiple piercings in her ears and lip and nose. Her artificially black hair was carefully arranged in a fifties pinup style, including a headscarf. A pattern of stars outlined her temple and snaked toward the back of her neck.

  “Coffee, hon?” She even had the diner waitress patter down.

  “Two coffees. You still serve breakfast now?”

  “All day,” she said with a grin.

  When she’d taken their orders and filled their mugs, Tony watched her head behind the bar and into the kitchen. He put a hand over his heart. “I’m in love.”

  Reese chuckled. “With a girl?”

  “I could be in love with a girl who looks like that.” Tony gave Reese a dreamy eyed grin.

  The food was up in minutes. Steaming hot, eggs prepared to perfection. Hash browns glistening with grease and still the best Reese had ever tasted. He and Tony ate in companionable silence punctuated only by requests to pass the ketchup or more sugar for the coffee.

  It was the most satisfying meal Reese had eaten in a long time. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, then sat back in the booth and rubbed his stomach with a sigh. Tony laughed.

  “Better than pizza and beer,” Tony said. “Good idea.”

  “Dessert? We’ve got a killer lemon meringue. It will blow your mind.” The waitress made goo-goo eyes at Tony, who returned the look with an equally soppy one of his own.

  “Sold,” Reese told her.

  Tony sipped some coffee, not making a secret of how he was admiring the view of the waitress walking away. “So what’s it like, coming home?”

  “This hasn’t been home for a long time.” Reese hardly ever talked about growing up on a dairy farm here in Lancaster County. He tried to hardly ever think about it.

  “Got it. And growing up here has nothing to do with buying this dairy. Right.” Tony gave Reese an assessing look. “Nostalgia?”

  Tony didn’t know the half of it.

  “I’m trying to buy that dairy because I think I can make some money off it. The same way I’ve done with every other business I bought. It has nothing to do with where or how I grew up. It’s totally a business decision.” Reese scraped up the last crispy bits of yolk-soaked hash browns and licked the fork clean. He caught Tony’s look but very carefully gave nothing away with his own expression. Tony didn’t need to know the truth. “You have another opinion?”

  Tony shifted in his seat. “I know that you’ve never dealt with any place that makes food or beverages before. Not even a restaurant. There were plenty of opportunities to get into that sort of thing, but you’ve always steered away, even though restaurants can be some of the fastest things to turn over.”

  “Who says I couldn’t own a restaurant, if I wanted to?”

  “You looking to buy a place?” The waitress had reappeared with two plates of pie and another round of coffee. “Eddie’s trying to sell, if you’re really interested.”

  Tony grinned at her, eyeing the name tag pinned to the front of her blouse. “Hi there…Gretchen. Awesome coffee, by the way.”

  “Why’s he selling?” Reese ignored Tony’s batting eyelashes, though they seemed to have caught the waitress’s attention.

  “He wants to retire to Florida.” Gretchen shrugged and topped off their mugs, then stood back to give Tony a contemplative look that turned into a small, interested smile after a moment. “Says it’s too cold here in the winter. He’s had this