“How come? Special diet or something?” He turned into a gravel parking lot. A wooden building with a metal roof sat nondescript at the rear of the lot. A hand-stenciled sign identified the restaurant as Robert’s.
“No, but if I ate out every night, especially greasy food, I’d balloon in no time.”
His face fell. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who orders a salad with no dressing.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being healthy.” Her defenses rose. He’d been in the Marines who prided themselves on health and fitness. Why should she have to defend her position?
“No, but there’s nothing wrong with enjoying yourself, either. It’s about moderation.”
“I know that, but there’s an immense amount of pressure put on modern women to have a perfect body.” She scowled and crossed her arms.
“And who defines the perfect body?” He switched the engine off and turned to face her.
“Would you have taken me home that night if I weighed an extra fifty pounds?”
“You were fun and made me laugh.” His eyes darkened and conveyed a message she couldn’t decipher. “Yeah, you looked great, but your personality drew me more than anything.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure.”
“I mean it.”
“Then you’re not like most men I’ve ever known,” she shot back.
“If the men you knew were that shallow, then I’ll take that as a compliment.”
The conversation, rather Jared’s replies, unsettled her. He’d displayed a strong character from the moment she announced the pregnancy, and everything she’d witnessed about him unraveled her long-held beliefs about men.
Leaning over, he nudged her gently. “I didn’t mean to start anything. Let’s go eat and enjoy an unhealthy meal. We can walk it off afterward.”
His indirect apology lowered her defenses. “That’s a lot of walking.”
“I don’t mind. I’ll be in good company.”
Chapter Seven
“Didn’t I tell you the food’s good?” Jared leaned back in the booth and looked at his empty plate. He’d put away an enormous slice of fried ham, two eggs, a heaping pile of hash browns and several biscuits covered with pepper gravy.
“Delish.” She wiped her mouth then took a sip of sweet tea. “That was the best egg sandwich I’ve ever had. I could eat another.”
“Order one if you want. I’m not in a hurry.”
A cute smile formed on her lips. “My taste buds want another, not my stomach.”
“If you’re sure.” He drank the last of his soda and watched her finish her potatoes.
Before their night together, the woman he knew wore layers of makeup trademarked by thick lines of eyeliner. Her clothes had fit tightly to accentuate her slim figure, whether she was going to work or out for the night. He’d found her attractive then, but this version of her drew him deeper. She still wore makeup but in subtle shades, and her clothes fit well but were casual.
This woman came across as authentic, and he liked that.
The waitress laid their hand-written check on the table, and he grabbed it without looking at the total.
Sybil laid her fork on the empty plate with a satisfied sigh. “What’s my share?”
“My treat.” It might not be a date, and their unique relationship might not always coincide with his old-fashioned values, but he refused to let her pay when he’d initiated the meal out.
“Thank you.”
He left a five-dollar bill for a tip then slid out of the booth and walked to the front counter to pay. On the way out he grabbed a mint from the bowl on the counter and popped it in his mouth. He held the door open for Sybil, and they left the restaurant.
