The noise level.
A soccer team of little girls, who called themselves the Silver Falls Angels, raced up and down the aisle, screeching and squealing about winning a game. Each had on the same blue and white uniform and matching socks. No halos, but several wore ponytails or headbands.
The volume hadn’t reached eardrum-shattering levels yet, but the night was young, and a baseball team had arrived five minutes ago. Guys belched and swore as if they’d entered a bar full of salty patrons, not a pizza parlor overflowing with kids.
Taryn laughed. “But who needs TV when entertainment and air-conditioning come with dinner here?”
He grinned. “Aren’t I entertaining enough?”
“Yes.” She winked. “I’ve tried but never been able to make a crust this good, so I like to figure out the secret. I asked Luigi to share the recipe, but he told me his mama would haunt him from her grave if he gave it to me.”
“You’ll have to make me a pizza so I can compare crusts.”
“After the fair.”
Yes! Another date. Except he’d better not say that aloud.
“Sounds good.” Garrett wasn’t only talking about the pizza. He enjoyed spending time with Taryn and wouldn’t mind watching her cook. But tonight, more painting and decorating were on the agenda. They should probably go, so they weren’t up too late again. “Are you ready to head home?”
“Let me finish my soda first.” As she took a sip, a toddler ran past, chased by an older child. “I wonder if Callie and Brandt will bring their children here.”
Garrett held up his hands to stop Taryn. “Nope. No kids talk. It’s hard enough thinking about my baby sister getting married. I’m not ready to imagine her being pregnant.”
“Don’t you want to be an uncle?”
He thought about it. “I’m Rex’s uncle. At least that’s how Callie told me to sign the tag on his Christmas gift.”
Taryn laughed. “That sounds like your sister.”
He nodded. “When I’m an uncle, I’ll be the best one there ever was. Of course, I’ll have to compete for the title with my brothers Flynn and Keaton.”
“Callie mentioned you guys are competitive.”
“We are, but not in a make-each-other-fail kind of way. We want the bragging rights.”
“Those are important.”
Taryn’s hand lay on the tabletop. All Garrett had to do was move his hand forward a few inches, and they’d almost touch.
If this were a date—which it wasn’t—he would cover her hand with his to see if her skin was as soft as he imagined.
Her hands were clean of paint, but had she put on lotion after washing them? If so, was it scented?
“So quick bright things come to confusion,” a male voice said.
Taryn glanced up and stiffened.
That put Garrett on guard.
The man standing next to their table appeared to be in his early thirties. He wore a button-up shirt, tie, and dress pants. He held a pizza box. “Stop kidding around. You know that one.”
Taryn’s lips pursed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nick.”
Nick, as in Nick Baxter, who was Brandt’s nemesis? Garrett took a closer look. Baxter’s expensive watch seemed out of place for Luigi’s and the town. But then again, Brandt said the guy was a tool. He was overdressed for a small-town pizza parlor, too.
Nick smirked. “I quoted a line of Shakespeare.”
She took a sip of soda, visibly unimpressed. “You enjoyed doing that in high school.”
