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“Hey.” Lizzie offered Adam a quick impersonal smile before she scooted along the old leatherette seat. “Hi, Daisy. Hi, Jackson.”
Adam sat beside her and the booth suddenly felt very small. “I’m glad you agreed to come.” He nodded over at Daisy. “I was already getting sick of being a gooseberry with these two lovebirds.”
“Hey, that’s not fair,” Daisy protested. “We can’t help it.” She kissed Jackson’s cheek and grinned at Lizzie. “Thanks for coming. Adam’s turning into a really grumpy old man these days. Perhaps you can help lighten him up?”
“I’ll do my best.” Lizzie fought to keep a straight face. “Although he never usually laughs at my jokes.”
“He’d need a sense of humor before he could do that.”
Daisy winked at her brother who didn’t look at all bothered by all the teasing. He stretched one long arm along the back of the seat, his callused fingers perilously close to Lizzie’s bare shoulder, and picked up his beer in his other hand to toast Daisy.
Deborah, one of the servers, came over and handed Lizzie a menu. “Hey, you. How’s it going? Still working at Yvonne’s?”
“I love it there,” Lizzie said as she ordered herself a beer. “What’s everyone having to eat?”
“I think that’s Deb’s line tonight, Lizzie,” Jackson joked. “You get to sit back and relax.”
* * *
He was enjoying himself. Daisy was always good company. The happiness she’d found with Jackson shone through her, making Adam feel old and way too crabby. He remembered how that was—how love made you feel invincible—even when it was all a lie. Not that he would ever say that to Daisy or trample on her happiness, but he’d learned the hard way that love couldn’t always save you.
Lizzie was a little tense. As the evening wore on, she relaxed more until she was leaning in toward his body, accepting his presence, and the shelter of his arm almost around the back of her shoulders. He wanted to pull her tight against him, thigh-to-thigh, shoulder-to-shoulder. Hell, he wanted her to straddle his lap so that he could put his hands all over her....
“So, how’s Spot doing?”
Lizzie’s question penetrated his heated imaginings and he turned to look at her.
“He’s doing good. Seems to like his new name as well.”
“You don’t have to call him that, you know.”
“Why not?” Adam shrugged. “It’s as good a name as any.”
“Roman will be thrilled,” Lizzie said. “He even drew you a picture. I offered to bring it with me, but he wants to give it to you himself.” She paused. “You could come over to dinner one night, if you’d like, and pick it up.”
“That would be nice.” It was his turn to hesitate. “Although as my mom’s just about to arrive, I’m not sure what my schedule will be like over the next two weeks.”
“There’s no rush. It will keep.”
“To be honest, if Leanne and Dad run true to form, she won’t last two weeks because they’ll have a fight within the first twenty-four hours, and she’ll be straight back on the plane.” He grimaced. “I can’t say I’m looking forward to reliving their shouting matches.”
She put her hand on his thigh, her whole body flowing toward him, sympathy in every line, and he leapt to attention. “That’s terrible.”
“We’ll see how it goes.” He glanced at his phone. “What time do you need to be back?”
Her smile faltered, and she withdrew into herself. “If you need to go, I’m more than happy to leave right now.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Jeez, sometimes he hated his own social awkwardness. “I was thinking that maybe we could ditch the lovebirds and have coffee together.”
“Do you want to come back to my place and have coffee there?” Lizzie asked. “Yvonne’s watching Roman and she likes to turn in early.”
“That would be nice,” Adam agreed, aware that he was treading on dangerous ground, but unable to stop himself. Being with Lizzie, talking to her, made him feel more like a regular human being. “If Roman’s awake he can show me the picture.”
