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Chapter 10
The papers in front of Gen on the table in Main Street Eats had been shuffled so many times she was starting to forget what order they were actually supposed to be in.
She’d chosen the venue to meet Gavin for their committee planning meeting because she’d thought she’d be more comfortable here, considering Grace and Serge already know about her situation. She wouldn’t have to put on such a show, there were less people to fool. She’d be able to relax.
However, since she’d arrived, it seemed like relaxing was the last thing on her body’s agenda. No matter what her brain told it to do, butterflies soared through her belly and adrenaline pumped through her veins.
She made a point of folding her hands on top of the table, intertwining her fingers so she could hold them still. She straightened her back and fixed her gaze on the front door…then realized that the posture made her look way too formal.
Shit! I don’t want it to seem like I actually care what he thinks! Forget that I actually, apparently, do. I don’t want him to know that!
She readjusted herself into a studied cool pose, leaning back just enough against the booth bench seat that she gave the appearance of slouching without actually making herself look like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Holy shit, no! I know! Even better!
Why look like she was waiting for him at all? She whipped her phone out of her purse and furiously typed away, a look of intense concentration on her face.
When she caught his unmistakably sexy form walking in through the door out of the tiniest sliver of her peripheral vision, she ignored it. When he sat across from her in the booth, she still gave no indication that she’d noticed. She continued the focused movement of her thumbs for another good ten seconds before hitting the send button and causing the satisfying “swoop” sound that signified an outgoing text message to emit from her phone.
She reviewed the content of the oh-so-important message she’d texted to Ella. “Please disregard. You are merely a prop in my one man show. I’ll explain everything later. Toodles. Love you. Still have to look like I’m typing. Damn, this is long. Oh, okay here we go. Almost done. There, that’s good enough. Kbye.”
Only then did she look up at Gavin, wide smile on her face, and say, “Oh, hey! I didn’t notice you come in. Sorry about that. Work stuff.”
The corner of Gavin’s mouth curled just a little bit, and her lady parts lit up like a Christmas tree. God, that was her favorite facial expression of his—that barely perceptible smile that he only gave to her.
“Texting Ella, huh?” he deadpanned.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Work stuff,” she lied again, keeping her voice lofty to try and sell it.
He grinned, the full-fledged kind this time. “You’re lying. I always know. You have a tell.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What is it?”
“Hell, no. What fun would that be?”
Grace appeared at their table and gave a knowing wink. “Hmmm. Did I hear someone say fun?”
Gavin gave Gen a small, questioning eyebrow raise and Gen sighed dramatically. In her book, there was pretty much no other way to sigh. “Yeah, she knows. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be sorry. I was never the one who didn’t want people to know about us.”
Gavin made the statement with just the slightest hint of inflection. That was his typical way of talking. Gen often thought that he modulated his voice just enough so that he didn’t sound like a damn robot…but not enough so that she had the slightest clue what was going on inside his head.
It was maddening, especially to someone like Genevieve, who always liked to have the upper hand. If she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking or feeling, she couldn’t figure out where she stood. And in an undisclosed location was her absolute least favorite place to stand!
Gen let the comment pass and turned to Grace. “Um, we’ll have two coffees. Black for him, sugar and creamer for me.”
“None for me, thanks. I can’t stay that long.”
“Sounds good, kids. Back in a minute.” Grace gave them both another wink as she left.
Gen raised her brow at Gavin across the booth. “What are you talking about? We’re supposed to be diving in on committee plans for the Fall Festival. You think that’s going to take less time than one cup of coffee requires?”
Her comment sounded salty as hell, even to her own ears, but she couldn’t help herself. She was on edge.
“Something came up.”
There was that patented Gavin Valentine barely-there inflection again. Was he sorry? Was he relieved?
