Standing with my head tilted, I watch emotions run across his face, and I wonder if asking him to go for dinner is the best idea.
But just like back then, I’m drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Not caring if I get singed by the fire.
Something in his eyes shifts, and I think he’s going to turn me down, but then he shrugs. “I can’t say no to tradition, can I?”
Chapter Five
Jacob
“Canyoumakethatpie with half pineapple, extra jalapenos, and black olives?” I’m used to the pinched expressions Becca and our waitress are giving me. It’s the same one whenever anyone hears the combo. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”
Becca glowers at me as she mouths. “Never.”
“Do you want anything to drink?”
“A glass of iced tea with lemon, please.” My brows shoot up, and she asks “What?”
“Coke for me.” Handing the menus to our waitress, I watch her walk away before looking at the woman sitting across from me. The lopsided grin she’s wearing is doing funny things to my insides. “You make fun of my pizza, but get a lemon in your iced tea?”
Becca’s eyes go wide as dinner plates, and her jaw goes slack. “What’s wrong with lemon?”
Slapping my palms on the table, I lean in and keep my voice low. I immediately regret it when a creamy, sweet, earthy tone fills my nostrils. An essence that has always been distinctly her. “Haven’t you read any of the studies that found lemons to be full of bacteria?”
“Haven’t you heard that getting pineapple on your pizza is sacrilegious?" She leans her elbows on the table, staring at me, not backing down.
“Thank you,” we both say as our waitress places our drinks beside us.
“Have you ever tried it?” I ask, taking a swig of my drink. The look of disgust on Becca’s face has me nearly spitting it out. “I guess that’s a no.”
“It’s not a no.” Becca sits back, pulls the wrapper off her straw, puts it in her iced tea, and stirs. Her eyes focus on the swirling liquid when she says, “Caleb had me try it once.”
“A man after my own taste buds.” Sitting up, I force a grin and try to ignore how my gut clenches.
She glances up, and a small smile lines her lips, but there’s an emotion in her eyes I can’t read. Sadness? Guilt? “There were some things you had in common.”
My abdomen constricts as my own guilt pops up. I hate that she had a life with another man, and yet I hate myself more for feeling this way. It was my own actions that led us down the separate roads we traveled. “Did he make you happy, Becs?”
Her face softens, and a faraway expression graces her face; jealousy sweeps through me. “Very. We had a wonderful life together and three amazing boys.”
“Three?” I blow out a deep breath in an attempt to dislodge the wrench that’s clamping down on my chest. “Which one is Steven?”
“He’s the youngest. Miles is my middle child, and Wyatt is my oldest.” Her face glows as she tells me about them. The cornersof my mouth pull up in response. “Miles is the protective one of the three.”
“Really?” My forehead pulls down in surprise. “I would’ve thought that would be your oldest.”
“Nope. Miles was born an adult. Do you remember the Benjamin Buttons movie?” I nod. “Miles doesn’t look older; he just acts it. Everyone thinks he’s my firstborn,” she chuckles, and my grin widens.
Murmurs of the other patrons and their conversations fill the silence that’s come over our table. Unable to help myself, I take Becca in. Her hair isn’t the darker shade of auburn I recall, but a lighter shade that suits her, and though I can see some fine lines around her eyes, she’s still as beautiful as I remember. Maybe even more so.
“Did you ever—”
“All ready,” our waitress says as she puts the pizza stand on the table. My nose tingles as the jalapeno hits me. She points to our glasses. “Do you want a refill?”
“Yes, please,” Becca says, handing her glass to the waitress.
“I’m good, but do you have any hot pepper? I only see garlic powder and Parmesan cheese on the table.”
“More pepper?” Becca arches her brow, eyes dancing. “The jalapenos aren’t enough heat?”
