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But Jolie’s heart lifted anyway—even as her brain started sending urgent, conflicting signals. “Coffee would be great.”
He threw the truck into gear and made a U-turn in the street. Grizzly’s was just a block away, across from Jolie’s clinic, but the town’s bachelors tended to congregate for a late supper every night after the family crowd had left, and all the parking spaces in front were filled.
He drove past, then turned up the alley behind Jolie’s clinic and parked there.
A heavily loaded lumber truck creaked past them when they reached the sidewalk on Main. Matt casually draped his arm around Jolie’s waist as they waited for it to pass.
Just a normal protective gesture,she told herself.Just an instinctive male thing.
But when she glanced up at him he wasn’t watching the truck go by. His eyes were on her, as warm and inviting as melted chocolate, that irresistible dimple deeply creasing his cheek—as if he was enjoying this moment more than he’d expected.
“Um—I think we can cross,” she murmured, suddenly feeling a little out of her depth.
He didn’t step away from her until he opened the door at Grizzly’s, where he ushered her in with the grace of a man escorting a date to a fine restaurant.
For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine that thiswasa date. That they were dining at a good restaurant, then looking forward to a late night of dancing and...
Mona Rangel, the middle-aged owner and manager, led them to a table in the corner. She handed them both menus, but her smile was directed at Matt alone.
No surprise there—he was one very handsome guy. And Jolie was the daughter of the man who had tried to ruin Mona’s life.
The poor woman been Bobby’s fifth-grade schoolteacher. Jolie remembered him crowing about the fact that she’d lost her job when she refused to pass him out of fifth grade.
Jolie had always felt the woman had deserved a medal and a raise for standing her ground, despite Robert Maxwell’s influence on certain members of the school board.
“I love what you’ve done with this place, Mona.” Jolie said. Stunning Robert Bateman wildlife prints adorned the varnished log walls, and the open beams overhead gave an airy, spacious feel to the small building. A pewter vase of fresh flowers brightened every table. “The atmosphere is perfect.”
“Thanks,” Mona gave her guarded smile and lifted the pot in her hand. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
“Matt?”
“Black, thanks. Any of your blackberry pie left?”
“I’ve had a piece held back all day, just in case you showed up. Jolie?”
“None, thanks. Just coffee.”
In a flash she’d poured steaming cups of coffee and had set a thick slice of blackberry pie in front of him.
He clearly savored each bite. “Is there any sort of pie youdon’tlike?” Jolie teased, watching the dessert disappear.
“Nope.”
“And this is how you stay in such good shape?” she marveled, shaking her head.
His eyes twinkled. “I’m working on it.”
She cocked her head as if giving it great thought.Actually, there’s nothing to work on—you’re perfect.
He forked up the last bite. “The kids and I have been talking about hiking the hills past your cabin. Like to come along?”
His intent gaze settled on hers as if her answer truly mattered, and the thought sent a curl of warmth right through her. “Sure—why not?”
She’d lost count of how many times she’d told herself that it would be best to stay just friends with Matt Dawson.
Sitting across from her, lean and tanned and fit, he radiated masculine strength, honor, and dependability she’d never expected. Neverwantedto find. Not in her neighbor, not in the father of one of her patients.
