“I knew it,” Frank muttered. “You don’t know how.”
“Oh, I know how.” Colt took a slow, languorous sip before lowering the mug, resting it on his knee. “But traditional shish kebab takes two or three days to marinate. It’ll be ready by the weekend.”
A brief flicker of surprise flashed across Frank’s weathered features. But only for a moment. Leveling his gaze on Colt, he added, “Don’t forget the pilaf.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Leaning forward, Colt set his mug on the coffee table and reached for the French press. Slow and steady, he poured himself another serving, steam wafting from the spout.
Frank Barrie may not want his help right now, but sooner or later, Colt would crack through his crusty shell and show him it wasn’t too late to live his life to the fullest.
The way his father would have…
If he’d had time.
* * *
Penny’s stomach fluttered as she stepped into the expansive one-room town hall. Since it doubled as an art and dance studio by day and rehearsal space for the local theater group by night, the decor was eclectic to say the least. Amateurish landscape paintings bedecked the pine slat walls beside posters announcing One Night Only, Shakespeare in the Park.
Her gaze traveled past a rolling rack of Renaissance-era costumes to a long folding table teeming with tantalizing desserts.
The flutter in her stomach transformed into a low, rumbling growl. And the plump, oversize brownies seemed to be calling her name.
“Be careful with those. They’re not what you think.”
The rich, toe-curling timbre sent goose bumps skittering across her arms. Penny hated how the all-too-familiar voice made her knees quake. She blamed the phenomena on faulty biology.
Squaring her shoulders, she whirled around to face the annoyingly affable grin of Colt Davis, which was only made more vexing by the dimple in his left cheek. It simply wasn’t fair that such appealing features belonged to such a disagreeable man-child. “What areyoudoing here?”
Ignoring her question, Colt filled his plate with every dessertexceptthe brownies. “They look like regular brownies, but don’t be fooled. They’ve got some kick. Cayenne pepper would be my guess.” He pulled a face.
“You don’t like spicy food?” she asked, making a point to grab one of the offending treats.
“More like spicy food doesn’t like me.”
“Hmm… I can’t imagine why,” she smirked.
Chuckling, Colt stuffed a powdered doughnut hole in his mouth and slowly licked his fingers.
Something about the gesture grated on her nerves. Folding her arms in front of her chest, Penny persisted. “So, whatareyou doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be with Frank?”
“Beverly came over to cook him dinner and watchWheel of Fortune, so I thought I’d give them some privacy. Plus, Mayor Burns left a strangely urgent voice mail insisting I show up tonight.”
Penny frowned. Why would the mayor want Colt to attend the meeting? With all the times he’d had to clean up after Colt’s antics, she was surprised he hadn’t declared the day Colt left for college a town holiday.
Before she could press further, Mayor Burns whacked his gavel against the podium. Penny jumped in surprise, and to her annoyance, Colt laughed.
Jutting her chin in the air, she spun on her heel, making her way to the back row of folding chairs. Determined not to let him get under her skin, she stared straight ahead as he chose the chair next to her.
Through most of the mayor’s long-winded speech, Penny shifted in her seat, scooting farther away from Colt’s encroaching thigh. Was it absolutely necessary for him to sit so close?
Distracted by his obnoxiously loud chewing, she struggled to concentrate on all the talking points, eager not to miss the mysterious reason for Colt’s presence. Maybe the mayor was playing a prank, knowing how much Colt loathed meetings of any kind, but especially ones this drawn out and boring. She almost snickered at the thought.
“Hmm… Let’s see…” Burns glanced at his notes, his jet-black, overly gelled hair not moving a millimeter as he inclined his head. “Next we have Beverly’s article on the top activities in Poppy Creek for senior citizens.” Strumming his well-manicured fingernails against the wooden podium, he searched the dozen or so faces staring back at him. “Is Penny Heart here?”
“I’m here.” Penny raised her hand in the back row, suddenly self-conscious as everyone turned to stare.
“Wonderful.” Burns flashed his unnaturally white teeth. “I’ve been informed you’re taking over for Beverly, which is excellent, since I’ve decided to go in a different direction.”
“A different direction?” Penny repeated, her fists curling around the soft cotton folds of her vintage, pink-gingham sundress.
