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“Why?”
“Because I’m being smart. You should be smart, too.”
“Yeah, except,” I was leaning forward, “I think the smart thing is kissing you.”
“All right!” Pat said, coming up to the table, and I pulled my fingers from her hair. “Cheeseburger with fries and gravy, and fish and chips. I’ll be right back with the pie.”
“Oh, this looks good,” Lexie said in a real bright voice and I smiled down at my fish, dropping my napkin into my lap to hide my erection.
Pat came back with the shepherd’s pie and set it down in front of Lexie.
Lexie dug in, steam escaping the potatoes as she got to the meat and gravy underneath. “Too hot,” she said and then took a fry and dipped it in gravy.
“I can see why people like that. Do you mind?” she asked, her fork poised over my fish.
“Go right ahead.”
She took a piece of flakey fish and put it in her mouth. “Not bad. Little soggy. Probably frozen, huh?”
“Well, I don’t know—”
She cut the cheeseburger in half and then cut that half in half. She put on a little ketchup and took a big bite. Her eyes closed on a groan. “Good burger. Not frozen.”
“What’s your thing with frozen?”
“I had a lot of frozen dinners in my time. People can have frozen at home.” She braved the hot shepherd’s pie and took a bite. “Yep. That’s awesome. Pat was right, someone put a lot of love into that.”
“You can taste that, too?”
“Oh, you can always taste love.”
Fuck. This girl. Everything she said, the way she ate, how she was writing stuff in her notebook, everything was sexy. Lexie breathing turned me on.
I was never going to survive.
She put down the pen and blinked up at me. Lord, she had the most beautiful lashes. She looked like a glamorous sexy cartoon character brought to life.
“Ready for the next place?” she asked.
“What? We just got our food.”
“Well, you can finish, but I’m saving room for,” she looked down at notes, “Salt Springs Diner.”
“We’re doing all these restaurants in one day?”
“You know what they say in Vegas,” she said and waved over Pat to ask for some to-go boxes. “Time is money.”
“Where are you going to take this food?”
“The Sewing Club needs sustenance.”
She reached into her purse to pay and I stopped her. “Lunches are on me,” I said.
“Nope. No way.”
“Then the company, because it’s research for your job.”
“That I will accept.”
“But they’re not free.”
She sat back her eyes wide. “That sounds pretty suspect, Mr. Mayor.”
“No, not like that. Every lunch, you need to tell me something about that night that you remember.”
“Anything I remember that you don’t?”
I nodded.
“You snore,” she said and stood up.
13
Ethan
At the Salt Springs Diner she asked the same questions and ordered what the server—in this case Janice, who’d worked here for as long as I could remember—thought was the best dish and the most popular. And I ordered my usual.
Which was how we ended up with a piece of lemon meringue pie, Eggs Benedict, and a club sandwich.
“You were close with your mom?” Lexie asked, taking a delicate bite of the eggs with the hollandaise. It took me a second to realize she was picking up the conversation from the pub.
“Very.” I gave Lexie half my sandwich so she could try it and make notes in her little book.
“It must have been hard when she died.”
“It wasn’t easy. Matt was already never around and Kristen was off conquering corporate America, so it was me and Dad by her bedside and in the hospital for a few months.”
“Cancer?”
I nodded. “It was awful. The worst thing that’s ever happened to me, but I was…I was so grateful I got to be there, too. So grateful I had that goodbye with her. I’d read to her and if she was up to it we’d play cards, but lots of days, I just sat with her.”
“She must have been so proud of you,” Lexie said.
“Why do you say that?”
“You’re handsome, you’re kind. You take good care of people. You have a laugh that makes people smile.”
I was speechless at the compliment.
“What?” she asked, wiping her face. “Have I got egg—”
“No. You’re…fine. Perfect, really.”
She rolled her eyes at me. Considering how beautiful she was and how men must fall at her feet ten times a day, she really could not take a compliment.
“We’re talking about your mom,” she said.
I didn’t understand how we were sitting in the window seat of the Salt Springs Diner and I was talking about my mom, who I didn’t talk about. Ever. Not even with Dad. Or my brother and sister. It was like she died and we closed up like clams.
Yeah. Maybe that wasn’t the healthiest.
“She was worried about me,” I said.
“That you’d get ugly and die alone.”
“What? No!”
“That’s what my mom’s worried about.”
“You couldn’t get ugly, Lexie. There’s no chance.”
