Maybe not the smart thing for therat-a-tat-ing in her chest, but definitely the smart thing for operating a vehicle.
Eh. Her heart could use the exercise.
She cranked the engine and buckled up. Five minutes later, she walked into Jimmy Beans. Jackson was stretched out at the far table, staring at his iPhone. Before the bells on the door finished tinkling, he’d tucked the phone into the pocket of his jeans and stood.
Jeans.
He’d dressed up.
“Hey, there, Anna Grace. You look right pretty tonight.”
She lifted an eyebrow.
“For a lady who got into it with a possum,” he amended with an ornery grin.
She dropped her purse under the table and collapsed into the chair. “What do I owe you for the drink?”
“One of them pretty smiles sure would be nice.”
“I’m not sure one drink will be enough for that.”
He stretched back out. “Rough day?”
She took a sip and closed her eyes. Chai latte. He was good. Or, more likely, Kaci was easy. “Yum.”
She opened her eyes and found him watching her with too much interest for tonight. “I’d say I’m glad the weekend’s almost here, but I have to study. Study study study. I hate studying. I already did this once. I’m tired of doing it again. I just want to be done. Finally.” She thunked her head on the table. “I used to like school.”
“You work full-time the first time?”
She rolled her forehead. “Nuh-uh.” It took some effort, but she forced herself upright and took another sip. “Thank you.”
His leg bumped hers under the table and stayed there. “My pleasure.”
Anna rubbed at an uneven line in the tabletop. She slid her leg closer to his, solidifying the connection. Her body wanted to flirt, but her mouth had other ideas. “You know the worst part of all this? By the time I finally finish my bachelor’s, I’ll need a master’s to even apply to take the professional engineer exam. It’ll take meyears.”
“You still like what you’re studying?”
She blinked. “Why wouldn’t I?”
He slid a china plate stacked with three chocolate chip cookies back and forth with slow fingers. “People change.”
“Living that, thanks. Not because I wanted to.” The middle cookie should’ve been on the bottom. It was biggest. She fisted her hands to keep from fixing it.
Or stealing a cookie.
His leg slid against hers. A pang of longing squeezed her thighs. She’d taken the physical contact for granted when she was married. What was she supposed to do now?
“I had a family thing of sorts,” he said.
She squinted at him.
“The day you fixed my kitchen.” A flattering red crept up his ears. “Supposed to head over Friday night, but a cookout sounded fun.”
“Your momma let you get away with being late?”
The blush in his ears faded in direct proportion to the grin dimpling his cheeks. “She was right proud I tricked a Yankeeinto doing what she usually does for me.”
“Uh-huh.” She decided she’d leave an extra dollar and snatched a cookie off his plate. “So how many master’s degrees do you have?”
