Three Little Words Read Online Free PDF Page A

fireplace in one corner, cobblestone around the base of the order counter, amber-hued walls, and eclectic light fixtures.
    He’d done his best to keep the interior under wraps, thinking the mystery of the renovation might help build hype on opening day.
    “Oh, here, this came for you.” Raegan tapped the top of the package she’d carried in.
    He stood and reached for the package, seeing his name in Ava’s handwriting—and a note underneath the address. Don’t open until the restaurant’s grand opening. He grinned as he pulled off the tape.
    Raegan tsked. “Didn’t you see the note?”
    “Rae, I guarantee you when Ava wrote that she knew I’d ignore it.”
    His grin spread when he reached into the pile of packing peanuts and pulled out a metallic gray tie with a Post-it note attached. For opening day.
    And somehow that’s all it took to revive his resolve. So he didn’t have chairs. So he’d find some.
    He looked up. “You got your phone on you, Rae?”
    “It’s practically an appendage.”
    He nodded. “Good. We’ve got calls to make.”

3

    He’d really thought Maddie might show up.
    Or at least call.
    “You’re a miracle worker. You know that, don’t you, Seth?” Shan Hart came up next to him, brunette hair pulled into braids that made her look younger than her forty-something years.
    He stood in the entryway between The Red Door’s eating area and the kitchen, the buzz of the packed restaurant music to his ears—and almost enough to ease the sting of Maddie’s lack of communication.
    Maybe she forgot tonight’s the night.
    Hard to know whether that would make him feel better or worse. It would explain why she hadn’t made the effort to acknowledge his big day, but what did it say if the date didn’t even register with her? He’d been talking about this night for weeks . . . months.
    Shan wiped her hands on the apron tied at her waist, then handed him two plates. “Complete miracle worker.”
    She was talking, of course, about the chairs—nearly every one filled at the moment—surrounding each table. Different shapes and sizes, but all spray-painted black and covered with custom cushions in shades of rusty orange, burgundy, and yellow to match the rest of the restaurant.
    “I’m not the miracle worker, Hart. If anyone is, it’s the thrift store and the church and the dozens of friends who all donated chairs.” He balanced the plates in his hands. “And Sunny at the hardware store, too. When she heard what happened with the chair order, she offered to donate all the spray paint.”
    “Well, considering she’s married to Lenny, she probably felt she owed you.”
    He grinned and slipped from the kitchen. No, he wasn’t supposed to be waiting tables tonight, but in addition to his missing chairs, yesterday one of his waitresses had backed out at the last minute. Something about her work schedule interfering with cheerleading camp.
    Maybe hiring high schoolers hadn’t been the best idea.
    He traced a maze through full tables, stopping to deliver identical plates to the Jamisons—burgers practically still sizzling from the grill and mounds of sweet potato fries. The smell pulled a rumble from Seth’s stomach. In all the business of final preparations, had he eaten anything at all since breakfast?
    He stopped at the table where his uncle and Raegan sat. “Hey guys, everything good here?”
    Case Walker’s grin was bracketed by lines that said more about his penchant for laughter than his age. Same with the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Seth would never forget the first time he’d seen John Wayne walk onto the screen in some old western flick. He’d turned to Mom and busted out, “Whoa, it’s Uncle Case.”
    “You outdid yourself, son,” his uncle said now.
    Seth smoothed one palm over the front of his white button-down and straightened the tie Raegan had knotted around his neck hours ago. His cousin had pretended she hadn’t noticed his shaking hands when she’d