“And I hit a hole.” She jutted out her leg to show her ankle. “See, it’s red. A little.”
He reached for her slender calf, pulling it to him for inspection. But the moment his hand touched her skin, his knee no longer seemed to be a source of bother. He set her foot down without looking over at her.
“Your ankle is fine. However, I should take you to Angelo’s for pizza as a consolation prize.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Ryder,” Elizabeth said, reaching to pick a dandelion rising between blades of grass.
“It’s just pizza. Not resigning your independence or anything.”
“I know, I know, but pizza is like…the classic date,” she said. “Everyone will think that’s what we’re doing, sitting in the romantic candlelight of Angelo’s, standards playing on the jukebox, sipping sodas and eating garlic roll appetizers.”
“Sipping soda and eating garlic rolls. I said pizza. You want a soda and garlic rolls, you’re on your own.”
She grinned and tossed her dandelion at him. “Fine. Pizza. But it’s not a date.”
“Absolutely. Consolation prize only. Why would I want to date you?”
“More like why would I want to date you?”
She smiled and bumped his good shoulder, but she’d hit on a subtle truth. Why would this gorgeous, smart, ambitious woman with nice ankles—though one was slightly red—want to be with him?
“How’s Monday night?” she said, helping him to stand. “I have the night off from Ella’s.”
“Six o’clock? I’ll pick you?—”
“I’ll meet you there,” she countered. “And make it six thirty.”
6
All day Monday, the anticipated pizza date-but-not-really-a-date with Ryder proved to be a distraction.
Will asked Elizabeth for the week’s receivables, and she delivered last year’s. When the phone rang, she answered, “Ella’s Diner,” and during the afternoon marketing meeting, she kept drifting off, staring out the window.
Was pizza at Angelo’s a date? It felt like a date. Rather, she wanted it to be a date. She still remembered how her hand felt in his that one Sunday morning. How his hand tight around her waist made her feel like she was his. How his touch sent a thrill through her when he examined her ankle.
Late Monday afternoon, Will entered her office and sat. “What’s up with you today?”
She gave him her surprised look. “Nothing. Typical day.”
“Anything bothering you?”
Part of her wanted to come clean and confess I think I have a date with Ryder, but we’re calling it a consolation prize. But the confession sounded so benign. Who cared about one date when she was leaving in six weeks? Her imagination was making too much of this pizza dinner.
“Does your distraction today have anything to do with tonight?” He sounded like her big brother-cousin. The one who cared for her. “Pizza with Ryder?”
“You know?” She sat back with a sigh. “What is with this family? Everyone knows everyone else’s business.”
“We look out for each other, support each other, and cheer each other on.”
“I’m not used to it, that’s all.” Elizabeth shuffled papers around, keeping her gaze averted. Will’s piercing eyes made her feel vulnerable, as if he could read her thoughts. “Mom and Dad raised Jonathan and me to be independent and self-reliant.”
“Don’t kid yourself. Pops and Granny raised all the Dorsey kids to be independent and self-reliant. Where do you think your parents got the idea? But they also raised us to care for each other, to be friends as well as family.”
“That’s well and good, but aren’t some things in life private and personal?”
“Yes, but some are meant to be celebrated.” Will headed for the door. “Maybe you don’t want people to know because you’re hiding, Beth. Not from us, but from life’s options. You think the only choice for you is education and a Fortune 100 company. But what if the best for you is here, in Hearts Bend, with the family, with Ryder Donovan?”
“Oh, really? Why don’t you just say what’s on your mind, Will?”
