“Thanks again.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m impressed.”
She turned to take the next customer’s order.
“You made just enough.” Kevin was still holding up his end of their chat, despite that she’d moved on to a new conversation. She could feel his gaze on her.
“You really have a knack for calculating how much we’ll sell—”
She interrupted Kevin kindly. “One pecan, please.”
Glancing up to take the next customer’s order, she spotted...
Eli.
Eli.
Her heart executed a surprised somersault. It had been months upon months since she’d glanced up from her food truck window and seen him standing in her line. It was a Wednesday. But, of course, he was off work for the holiday.
Belatedly, she realized she’d completely missed the order the family of four had just placed.
“Sorry!” she told the mom. “Can you repeat that one more time, please?”
After inputting their order on the iPad and flipping the screen toward the mom to sign, she shot a surreptitious glance at Eli. He’d come alone, wearing a T-shirt that readUSAF. She loved the fit of the jeans he’d chosen and his metal-rimmed sunglasses.
The two young women ahead of Eli in line kept sliding peeks at him. She’d spent enough time with Eli to have noticed that the admiration of women followed him wherever he went. This time, however, the interest of the women didn’t sit well with her. At all.
Penelope passed the family of four their pie order.
The black-haired woman standing in front of Eli struck up a conversation with him. Penelope wrinkled her nose, straining to hear what they were saying, but couldn’t quite make it out. Eli would answer politely, of that she was certain.
The black-haired woman gesticulated with her hands, laughed.
Eli smiled in return, his attention flicking up to Penelope just as he did so. Which tempted Penelope to suspect that his smile was for her.
Eventually, he reached the front of the line.
“Hi.” Not her best verbal opener.
“Hi.”
“Would you care for some pie?”
“Please.”
“The usual?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll bring it around.” She motioned with her head to the camper’s side.
“How much do I owe you?”
You owe me about a million apology notes for making me dream of you for the past three nights in a row. “This is my treat.”
She turned to Kevin. “One peach à la mode, please. And if you think you can man the fort, I’m going to take a break.” It might be smart, or it might be dumb, but she wanted some time with Eli.
“Sure, boss.”
