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I stand, taking the plates she’s holding. “Adorable?”
“For now, but I expect he’ll grow out of it like you did.”
“Ouch, not sure how to take that.” I stack their plates on top of mine and take them into the house, doing my best to keep it light.
She puts the lid on the potato salad and carries it and the bowl of chips behind me. “I just mean, I’m sure you were adorable at his age, whereas now, you’re something very different.”
“And what’s that?” I pause, leaning my hip against the counter.
A naughty glint is in her eyes. “You know what you are. Grumpy, broody, bossy.”
“Is that so?”
“You know it is.” Her easy flirtation sends blood racing below my belt, and I quickly rinse and put everything in the dishwasher while she packs up the rest of the condiments and puts them in the refrigerator.
“I thought I was being friendly.” I’m holding the towel, drying my hands, and my eyes run over her petite frame, hungrily taking in her smooth legs, that short dress.
Her hands are behind her back, and she leans against the bar, sliding her pink tongue over her lip and sending my thoughts so far from friendly.
“As soon as I get my truck back, I’ll have you and Owen over to my place for dinner.”
At first I’m confused, then I realize. “You can’t drive to the store.”
“Correct.” She leans forward slightly. “Which means I need you to give me a ride back to town.”
“Let me get Owen in bed, and I’ll see if Vanessa can walk over and sit with him a minute.”
“Vanessa?”
“High school girl across the street. She helps me sometimes when Mom can’t.” I scoop up my phone, sending a quick text and hoping…
I get a quick reply saying she’ll be here in ten minutes. “She’ll be here in ten. Can I get you something while you wait? I have a bottle of Stone Cold Original.” I walk over to the cabinet beside the fireplace.
“The best small-batch bourbon since Blanton’s?” She turns, leaning on her elbows on the bar.
“You heard about that?”
“My best friend runs the town paper. I know all kinds of things about Eureka.”
“I bet you do.” Setting two tumblers on the bar, I pour us each a finger. “I’ll tell you the secret about this guy. It’s my grandfather’s original recipe. Alex found it in a folder in the back of his desk.”
She lifts the glass of amber liquid, tilting it side to side. “That’s really special, like a family heirloom. You know there’s a black market for this stuff?”
“Alex can’t make enough to keep it on the shelves.” I clink my glass against hers and take a small sip just as my son starts yelling he’s done.
Placing the glass on the bar, I take a beat to watch her sip. Her eyebrows rise, and she nods. “I don’t know a lot about bourbon, but this is nice. Smokey.”
Our eyes meet, and the room seems smaller, the air closer. Watching her tonight talking to Owen, telling him about her job and listening to all his zebra facts, she seemed happy and entertained, not bored or impatient.
She’s light and fun, and Edna’s words about her being friends with Adam are in my head. They can be friends, but I’d prefer something a little different.
I’d prefer to think of lifting her onto that bar, stepping between her legs, and sliding my hands higher under her skirt…
“DAD!” Owen yells, and my eyebrows rise.
Britt snorts a laugh, and I’m hooked a little more. “Be right back.”
Owen holds out both his arms for me to sniff for soap, but I skip the fake-out, sniffing the top of his shoulder instead. It smells fresh enough, and I give him the okay to exit the tub and dry off. When he’s finally in his PJs with his hair towel-dried, I tuck him in the bed and sit beside him reading his favoriteNational Geographicbook about zebras.
