Blossom Street (Books 1-10). Debbie Macomber

had taught her was that the only person she could rely on was herself. It wasn’t a lesson she was likely to forget.

      Crushing out her half-smoked cigarette, Alix went back inside the store, hoping Jordan would take the hint and leave her alone.

      “That was quick,” Laurel muttered as Alix joined her behind the counter.

      “I’m going into the back room.”

      Laurel frowned. “Why?”

      “If you-know-who comes in, tell him I’m not working tonight.”

      “Are you still avoiding Jordan?”

      “Just do it,” Alix snapped and hurried to the back of the store before the preacher man caught up with her. It’d been two weeks since they’d bumped into each other at Starbucks and he’d dropped his bomb. The explosion still reverberated in her ears. Jordan was a minister—and she wanted nothing to do with him or his God.

      No more than a minute later, Laurel appeared, and she didn’t look any too pleased. “He saw you.”

      Alix whirled around. “Then tell him I’m busy.”

      “I already tried that.”

      This was getting irritating. “So tell him something else. I don’t want to talk to him.”

      “You can’t hide forever.”

      “I’m not hiding,” Alix insisted, which was a pretty weak argument.

      “Do what you want,” Laurel said. “But he told me he was going to wait until you came out.” With that, her roommate and supposed friend returned to the front of the store.

      Alix waited an agonizing ten minutes and figured that by then Jordan would’ve given up on her. No such luck. Arms crossed, he stood by the microwave popcorn display next to the cash register. His eyes narrowed when he saw her.

      Rather than try to avoid him anymore, she strolled purposely toward Jordan. “You don’t take a hint, do you?” she asked bluntly.

      “Not easily,” he admitted. “Let’s talk.”

      “I can’t.” She’d already squandered her fifteen-minute break and that was her last of the evening. The video store wasn’t doing a robust business, but they were busy enough.

      “Meet me after work.”

      Alix shrugged. She might as well get this over with. “All right.”

      “Your word is good?”

      The challenge in his voice offended her sense of pride. “Damn straight it is! I’ll be at Starbucks ten minutes after closing.”

      “Make it Annie’s Café.”

      “Fine, Annie’s.”

      “I’ll be waiting.”

      It could’ve been Alix’s imagination, but she thought she saw Jordan wink at Laurel on his way out the door. She wondered what the hell that was about and then decided it didn’t matter. If he was interested in her friend, then fine. She hoped the two of them would be very happy. Jordan was a damn sight better than that slimy used-car salesman.

      Only Alix did care, and she was in a bitch of a mood for the rest of her shift. By eleven o’clock Laurel was no longer speaking to her and left in a huff. Alix was just as glad to be rid of her.

      Exactly ten minutes after closing out the till, locking up the store and making the deposit, Alix walked into Annie’s. The café was half a block down from the video store. As a treat every payday, Alix bought herself dinner there. The food was good, plentiful and cheap.

      Jordan was in a booth reading the menu when she approached. She scowled at him and said, “I don’t owe you anything.”

      “Yeah? And your point is?”

      “I don’t have to be here.”

      He raised his eyebrows. “True, but I figure you owe me an explanation as to why you ditched me in sixth grade.”

      “I didn’t ditch you. I … I got caught up in circumstances beyond my control.”

      “All right, but consider it common courtesy to explain what happened.”

      He’d obviously been taught etiquette. She, on the other hand, didn’t know anything about it.

      “Listen,” she said aggressively, “we can spend the rest of the evening arguing about something that happened in grade school or we can talk. You decide.”

      It was all too apparent that Jordan intended to pester her until he got the answers he wanted. She’d already decided she’d rather not get involved with a minister, but he was making that difficult. Frowning, she slid into the booth across from him.

      “What’s wrong, Alix?” Jordan asked.

      This was an interesting approach but before she could answer, the waitress appeared. Alix knew Jenny, who worked swing shift, and she watched as the older woman glanced between them, not bothering to hide her surprise.

      Folding over the top sheet of her pad, Jenny asked, “What can I get you two?”

      Jordan closed the plastic-coated menu. “I’m thinking about a bacon cheeseburger with the works.” Then he looked at Alix. “How about you?”

      Her mouth watered at the thought of one of Annie’s mammoth cheeseburgers. But first she had to find out who was paying for it. “You buying? Or am I getting my own?”

      “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t.”

      Alix tucked the menu behind the sugar canister. “I’ll have the same.”

      “Two bacon cheeseburgers,” Jordan said. “And two Cokes.” He gave Alix a questioning smile and she nodded.

      Jenny wrote down the order and left.

      As soon as the waitress was gone, Jordan rested his hands on the table. “So,” he began.

      Squarely meeting his gaze, Alix sighed heavily. “So I’m not interested in church,” she said.

      “Why not?”

      “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly the church-going kind.”

      “And what kind is that?”

      Alix rolled her eyes. “Ladies who wear hats and gloves and exchange polite conversation with a few ‘praise the Lords’ thrown in.”

      Jordan’s head reared back and he snorted with laughter. “You’re describing a garden party, not church. I can tell you haven’t attended in a while.”

      “I went to Sunday School back in grade school but skipped the church part,” she told him. The truth was, she’d gone a few times but left early, bored by all the preaching. “Like I said, I’m not interested.”

      Jenny brought their Cokes and Jordan waited impatiently before he responded.

      “How do you know?” he burst out when she was gone.

      “Jordan, I think you’re great.” She took a long sip of her drink. “I remember your dad and he was nice, too.” Jordan’s father had come to the house once to talk to her mother, after Alix had been awarded that prize Bible. It was the one and only time he’d stopped by, and she didn’t blame him for never visiting again.

      “How do you know you’re not interested in church unless you try it? Why don’t you come one Sunday and see?”

      “Listen,” Alix said, trying to be as honest as possible. “I don’t need anyone to save me.”

      He frowned. “So that’s what you think?”

      “Damn straight.”

      “You’ve certainly got me figured out,” he said, a little sarcastically.