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Chapter 5
•love at first sight deserves a second look
“It’s not working.”
Lexie Kowalsky jumped like someone had stuck a pin in her. Beneath the bill of a ridiculous hat, she raised her deep blue gaze. “What?”
“If you’re trying to blend in with the locals, it’s not working.” Not when her hair stuck out like straw from beneath a cap that made it look like she had a fish swimming through her head.
“What makes you think I’m trying to blend?” She raised a cup of coffee and blew into it.
And not when, despite the hair and the fish, she looked good enough to spread on the table and eat. “I talked to Jimmy before he left.” Sean took the chair across from her at the Waffle Hut. “I hear people are taking a whole lot of interest in looking for you.” He’d also seen the whole cast of The View talking about her at his mother’s house just before he’d escaped her nonstop health complaints.
As a couple of tourists walked past in parkas and rubber fishing boots, Lexie ducked her face and reached up as if adjusting the bill of her cap. “There’s a Cancun vacation from Hoda and Kathie Lee at stake.” With her hand covering the side of her face, she asked, “Are you going to rat me out?”
“No.”
“Thank you.” She pushed her hair over her shoulders and sighed as if relieved by his answer.
“I’ve been to Cancun many times.” He lowered his gaze as a lock of her hair slid back over her shoulder and rested against the fish on her T-shirt. The Spirit of Sandspit sculpture was the pride of the community and one of the first things tourists saw when they landed at the airport, but stretched across her big breasts, the salmon looked more like a whale. “It’s not my favorite vacation destination.”
A waitress approached, and Sean paused as she set down a plate of waffles and bacon and a little pitcher of syrup.
“Can I get ya anything, Sean?” she asked.
The woman wore a sleeveless fleece over a red turtleneck and looked at him through glasses sitting a little crooked on her face. He was sure she was a friend of his mother’s, but he couldn’t recall her name. It was past noon and he ordered a Molson to take the edge off the pounding in his head. His gaze slid to her badge. “Thank you, Louise.”
“My pleasure.” She glanced at the top of Lexie’s fish cap. “Can I bring you anything else?”
“Coffee, please.”
He continued their conversation as he watched Louise walk away. “Now, if someone offers a trip to Cozumel . . .” He returned his gaze to Lexie. “That’s a whole different ball game. I’d have to turn you in for a chance at a Cozumel vacation.”
“Seriously?”
No. “Yep. There’s a little bar on the southern tip of the island that serves the coldest beer, cranks the best reggae, and encourages the women to go topless.”
A disapproving frown pulled at the corners of her full kiss-me-baby lips as her long fingers with short, pale pink nails wrapped around the syrup. “Classy.”
“This from the woman who chased pigs on national television.”
“And won.” She drizzled syrup into the deep waffle squares. “Without getting very muddy, I might add.”
He sat back and folded his arms over his chest covered in a gray Henley. “I wouldn’t know about the mud. I never watched the show.”
She set the pitcher on the table and glanced at him. “Then how do you know about the pig?”
“I saw it on a commercial.”
She placed a paper napkin on her lap, then picked up her fork and knife to slice off a piece of waffle. One bite and she sighed. Her eyes closed and the corners of her lips lifted as if she was in heaven. “Mmmm. So good.” Or having an orgasm. Damn.
She swallowed and her eyes opened. “You never watched the show?”
“No,” he answered as the waitress set his beer on the table.
“How’s your mama doin’ with that leaky pancreas?” the waitress asked.
