Three Little Words Read Online Free PDF Page B

he looked over his shoulder, water showered into his hair and down his neck.
    Shan cowered against the opposite wall. “I’m the cook, Seth. I could take a stove apart and put it back together, but dishwashers aren’t my thing.”
    He pushed away from the counter and reached for the red button at the base of the dishwasher. The burst of water slowed the second he pressed it down, within seconds only a trickle dribbling over the tray packed with glasses.
    He turned, slow, wet hair matted to his face and drips trekking down his cheeks. “This. Right here. The power button.”
    Shan scooted backward, muted chuckles slipping out from the assistant cook behind her. And then the creak of the swinging door. The sound of footsteps.
    “Seth?”
    He whirled, sending a stream of water splaying from his hair and tie . . .
    Ava?

    She hadn’t dropped a plate yet. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t dropped a plate yet.
    “Blueberry pie goes to table sixteen and the two cobblers to the kid with the mohawk and his date up at the front counter.” Seth gave instructions as he helped Ava balance two plates in one hand, one in the other. “You sure you’ve got it?”
    “Yep, blueberry to sixteen, cobbler to Mohawk and friend. Aren’t you glad I convinced you to number the tables? I can’t believe you weren’t going to number the tables.”
    “Yes, I owe you everything, Ava Jane Kinsgley.” Seth smirked with the words. “But hurry up with the plates before the ice cream melts.”
    “Wow, this pie looks good. Your chef’s a keeper.”
    And she was nice, too. Showed Ava how to hold two plates in one hand, loaned her an apron, called her a lifesaver about a hundred times. Seth grabbed a couple glasses, filled them with ice, and stuck them under the soda machine.
    But he turned back to Ava before she slipped out the kitchen door. “Ava.”
    She opened the kitchen door with her foot. “Yeah?”
    The tips of his longish hair were still damp from his earlier wrangling with the dishwasher, and the tie she’d mailed him before she ever considered that she might actually end up here had seen better days. But his smile beamed. “Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    She moved out to the dining area, pretty sure she might be beaming herself.
    It hadn’t been a fun twenty-four hours since finding out her coaching hope was out of reach. She’d let herself wallow half a day before finally texting Mom—no, she hadn’t gotten the job—then calling her sister.
    And it’d been Autumn who urged her to take Seth up on his offer.
    “Ava, how many times in the past few months have you told me you’re not sure about taking on more classes this fall? That the only reason you’ve stuck around the college this long is the team. Why stay if that’s off the plate?”
    “But I don’t know if Seth was actually serious.”
    “Ask him in one of your bazillion emails. Sheesh.”
    That was the point at which she’d started to regret bringing up Seth’s invitation to her sister. And yet . . . not. Because, well, hisemails always had a way of cheering her up. Maybe seeing him in person would pull her out of the post-disappointment funk.
    What if she took him up on his offer—stayed a few days or a couple weeks—and took time to do what Coach Mac had urged her to: Figure out what came next.
    On a whim, she’d packed a suitcase and hit the road this morning. And now? It felt a hundred kinds of right, if for no other reason than she’d been able to jump in and help poor short-staffed Seth. He’d tried to argue when she offered to help, but her own stubbornness prevailed.
    She delivered the blueberry pie to table sixteen, spotted the kid with the mohawk up front, and dropped off both cobblers.
    After being full the past couple hours, The Red Door had finally begun to hollow out. Through the lanky windows in front of the restaurant, she watched community members amble down the sidewalk toward cars lined at the curb, sunset dropping over