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“Not much to tell. My brother, Jack, and I run our trucking company. I drive. He’s the office. Nothing fancy. What about you? Wendy says you just bought the diner.” He wasn’t into sharing anything about his past with her. Not yet, and certainly not now. Discussing Sylvie was off the table here in Tara’s pretty little kitchen.
“Yeah.” She smiled and he knew he’d found her soft spot. He focused on his cup, wishing instead that he could taste the excited blush that swept up her cheeks.
“I’ve been working on the diner for a couple months. Daisy wanted to keep going, but she just couldn’t do it anymore.”
“The diner looks different but—” He frowned, looking for the best way to explain his thoughts. “Feels the same.”
“Thanks. That’s a compliment. I always loved Daisy’s place. I tried to keep some of it.”
Tara grinned and he felt a responding warmth in his chest. He laughed, surprising himself with how good it felt. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed a woman’s company.
Not since long before Sylvie left.
* * *
TARA KNEW HER apartment was small, and this kitchen even smaller. She should have felt cramped here with him. But she didn’t. She liked the closeness, and despite all her good intentions, she wanted to be closer. Much closer.
Morgan Thane attracted her. And despite her denials to Wendy, he was most certainly her type. He was a good-looking, apparently decent guy. Yep, her type.
“Where are you from, originally?” Not from here. She might have grown up in Austin, but the ranch down the road where her brother now lived had belonged to her grandparents. She’d spent plenty of time here. She knew most of the locals.
“Dallas,” he said with a definite grimace in his voice. “The business is based there.”
She nodded, taking in the information—the safe, untempting information. She tried to formulate safe, intelligent questions. “You said you have a brother. Older or younger?”
He laughed. “Younger by three years.”
Ah, the older brother. She tried not to compare him to her own three brothers.
“You have brothers and sisters?”
She grimaced. “Five. Three brothers. Two sisters. All older.”
“That was a houseful.” He almost sounded wistful.
“Definitely. Crowded.” She ignored his reaction.
Morgan finished his coffee and moved to the sink to rinse the cup. She didn’t move, and his arm brushed hers. Heat shot up Tara’s arm and her heart picked up pace.
Despite a faint voice in the back of her mind trying to warn her, she couldn’t resist. Her curiosity, among other things, was piqued.
Time stretched and somehow the voice grew a bit louder—her earlier misgiving about bringing him here returned. Not because she feared him. No, she was the problem. She had too much to lose by letting another man disrupt her plans.
She forced herself to step back—mentally, as the kitchen was too small to physically do so—from the temptation he provided.
The clatter of the cup against the sink startled her and she jumped, coming into even closer contact with him.
He’d definitely warmed up. And his T-shirt was dry.
Neither of them moved.
She dared to look at him. He was so close, and she could see the texture of his day’s whiskers and the fan of his eyelashes around his green eyes.
“Thanks for helping,” she whispered, staring at him over her cup’s rim. Her fingers gripped the handle for dear life.
For an instant, he didn’t respond, and she worried he hadn’t heard her over the patter of the raindrops against the windowpane.
Slowly, Morgan took a step toward her and plucked the cup from her hand. He set it on the counter. Then, he moved his hand upward, slowly, his palm cupping her chin, his thumb making a featherlight swipe over her lips.
She caught herself before she licked her lips, hoping to taste anything his touch left behind.
“I should go.” His voice was soft, but she definitely heard the heat in it. He didn’t move away.
“I—” She swallowed. “I’m glad you came by. I enjoy your company.” What was wrong with her? Why had she said that? Though she had thought it dozens of times since he walked into her diner that first day.
