“You’re not leaving tonight, are you?” she said. “At least wait until morning. There’s a huge line of storms coming through.”
Frowning, I looked out the window but saw no evidence of impending doom. Maybe Ann was like my mother, who thought every drizzle was a monsoon. But I did drive an old car, whose windshield wipers weren’t the best. I could wait until morning. “I suppose I could wait until tomorrow.”
“I think you’d better, dear. If you shoot me a text when you leave, I’d appreciate it.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks.”
Faced with an evening alone and no food in the fridge, I decided to walk into town and grab a bite to eat and a glass of wine. On my way out the door, I thought about grabbing an umbrella, but a quick hunt for one in the cottage turned up nothing. Oh, well. At this point, the skies looked relatively clear, the water was calm, and only a slight breeze ruffled the curtains. I wouldn’t be out long, anyway.
I walked into town, proud of myself for remembering the way, and purposely chose a restaurant other than the one I’d seen Jack at two nights ago. It was right on the water, busy with a summer dinner crowd, and the hostess seemed a bit put out having to seat a table of only one. “I can sit at the bar,” I told her. “It’s not a problem.”
She looked grateful. “Perfect. It’s right through there in the next room.”
The moment I walked in, I saw him. I might have turned right around and left, except he saw me too. Sitting at the bar, a beer in his hand, he turned and looked right at me, like he knew I was there. Our eyes met, and he slowly lowered the bottle. My pulse galloped.
Dammit. Now what?
Nineteen
Jack
Pretend it never happened.
I knew that’s what I was supposed to do, but the sight of her had caught me off guard, and I found myself staring at her, dumbfounded, my beer halfway to my lips.
I’d purposely chosen this place because she’d been at The Anchor last time, and I wanted to avoid seeing her. But I’d been sitting there thinking about her, when all of a sudden I’d looked up and seen her reflection in the mirror behind the bar—as if I’d conjured her up. I glanced over my shoulder, and sure enough, she was real.
Real and beautiful and walking right for me, a surprised smile on her face. “Well, hello. Guess we think more alike than it would seem.”
Pretend those legs were never wrapped around your body. “Hey. How’s it going?”
“Good. I was going to get a table,” she said, gesturing behind her toward the dining room, “but they weren’t too keen to seat just one person.”
Pretend those hands were never in your hair. “Yeah. Busy in here tonight.”
“Is there room for one more at the bar?”
Pretend you didn’t come inside her so hard, your knees buckled. I recovered enough to look around, and noticed the chair next to me was empty. Fuck.
My hesitation flustered her. “I’m taking off tomorrow, and I already cleaned out the fridge at the cottage, so—”
“Tomorrow? I thought you were here longer than that.” If she was leaving tomorrow, I’d be OK. Maybe.
“I was supposed to be here longer, but my mother called this afternoon, and there are some family issues…” She waved a hand in the air. “Anyway, I won’t bore you with it. But yes, leaving tomorrow. So this is my last night.”
“Oh.” Some of my nerves evaporated, and I nodded toward the empty chair. Now I simply had to keep it casual. Light. No touching. “No one’s sitting here. If you’re not still mad at me, you can sit.”
Laughing, she slid onto the seat and set her purse at her feet. “I’m not mad. You apologized. We can be friends.”
“Friends, huh?” I side-eyed her. “I don’t know if I can be friends with a city girl.”
She smiled. “If I can be friends with a cocky, know-it-all farmer like you, you can handle a sweet little city girl like me.”
“Sweet—ha.” I took a long pull on my beer, and damn if she didn’t stare at my mouth the entire time.
“Can I get you something?” the bartender asked her.
“Uh.” Her cheeks grew a little pink as she realized what she’d been doing. “Can I see a wine list? And a menu?”
While she chose a drink and some food, I studied her covertly. She wore the sandals from last night, this time with pink shorts that made her legs look even longer, and a white blouse. Her hair was loose and wavy around her shoulders, and I had to stop myself from leaning over to smell it.
“Have you eaten already?” she asked me.
“Yeah. Earlier at home. I just came up here to get out of the house a little. Every now and then I have to remind myself to do it.”
She nodded. “I get that.”
“You live alone?” I asked her, feeling braver since her departure was imminent. No harm in getting to know her a little better at this point, right?