Seven it is.
She should have known Ian Finnegan would not appear with a burger and fries.No, the bags had Harry’s Folly stamped on them.And the contents?Veal Picata, Mushroom ravioli, salads, and bread with dipping sauce, and of course dessert.Chocolate lava cakeandraspberry cheesecake.Plus, he’d brought a bottle of wine.
Ten years ago, he’d brought her food from Harry’s Folly and they’d sat across from one another at the same kitchen table.Cozy.Intimate.So wrong.
Katie took a sip of wine, then another.“I’ve had this wine before.It’s one of Harry’s favorites.”
He nodded, saluted her with his glass.“Ever notice how Harry has alotof favorites?The man does love his wines…” His blue eyes twinkled.“Almost as much as he loves his food.”
That comment made her laugh.“Yes, he certainly does.When I visited a while back, he confided that he made recommendations based on a person’s mood.If they seem happy, he suggests the mushroom ravioli or the penne with spinach and garbanzo beans.Sentimental?The bolognese is the choice.The appetizers are another story with more moods attached.And the desserts?Harry insisted if you’re having a rough day, one taste will change all of that.”She recalled the tray of goodies he’d brought out, how he’d offered each one and told her to take the rest home.It’s always an experience,he’d said.An experience indeed.The cheesecake had been one of her favorites until he added key lime pie to the menu.And then he added a triple chocolate lava cake.Who wouldn’t callthata favorite?Until–
“Already thinking about dessert?”
His voice dipped, reminded her of the warm triple chocolate lava cake she called her new favorite.“Trying not to do that.”
A low laugh and then, “Harry said I had to pick more than one.”
“Of course he did.Did he ask what you planned to do with all this food?”
Another laugh, a shake of his head.“Nope.I’m somewhat of a regular there, but I usually just pick up.I love that food.Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good chicken slider and you can’t beat O’Reilly’s burgers.”He eased open the container of mushroom ravioli.“But nothing tops Harry’s pasta.”
Katie took in the lean build, the strong arms…he did not look like he consumed massive amounts of carbs every week.“Lucky you.If I ate this much all the time, I’d be in big trouble.”It’s not that she had to watch everything she ate, but she couldn’t be foolish.Want a big slice of chocolate cake with peanut butter fudge icing?Sure, but she better make sure she didn’t have an equally large slice the next day or the next.And while she didn’tloveexercise in the formal sense, she made sure she moved—a lot—especially since she’d started her desk job.The days of chopping wood and rototilling had all but disappeared, but she did still garden and harvest.And–
“You’ll always be beautiful.”Ian cleared his throat, concentrated on opening the container of salad.“I mean, don’t people always say real beauty’s within?”
Nice recovery.She hadn’t missed the look he gave her when he said those words, as though he weren’t talking about inner beauty at all.“Anyway, watch out for Harry.He’s way more nosy than he was ten years ago.And while he always means well, he does tend to poke and prod.Once the dissection starts, you’re pretty much done.He won’t let itoryou go until he finds answers, even ones you don’t want to share.I’m glad he didn’t start poking around.”
A raised brow, a chuckle.“The man was definitely poking.From what I hear, he’s been doing a lot of that since he got the Godfather of Magdalena title.Thinks it’s his dutyandhis business to know what’s happening to everybody.”He lowered his voice, mimicked Harry.‘Just casual observation and then a tweak here and there.That’s all I’m trying to do.’”
Katie laughed.“As if we believe that one!”
“He’s a good guy and far less inquisitive than Pop Benito.”
“You remember Pop?”That surprised her.Ten years was a long time to recall acquaintances.
“I met the guy twice the last time I was here.You don’t forget a character like Pop Benito.”His expression softened, his words matched.“I’d never met anyone like Pop.Straight shooter, not afraid to make you think.Tossed out questions and possibilities you hadn’t considered.He tried to talk to me about my father, but I wasn’t interested in hearing him.I liked the guy though, and I sure loved his pizzelles.”
“He’s still as feisty as ever, but since Harry took over the Godfather job, Pop likes to stay in the background…unless they’re tag teaming to get someone to listen.”They’d done that with her when she announced her engagement to Jackson.Him?What?Why?Harry Blacksworth had stared at her as though she’d spoken a different language.A week married to that man will age you ten years.Pop had similar thoughts.He reminds me of a soda pop that’s lost its fizz.You sure you want that?The sour expression on his face said he wasn’t a fan of the man or the marriage.Well, they’d both been right because the engagement “lost its fizz” before they had time to confirm a venue.
“I’d like to see Pop again.”He placed the chicken and ravioli on their plates, scooped out salad, and added a slice of bread.“I keep thinking I’ll run into him, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
Katie tore off a hunk of bread, dipped it in the olive oil and spice mixture.“You won’t find him at O’Reilly’s, but he’s a regular at Lina’s Café.Just be careful because Harry’s usually with him, and I’m not sure you’re ready for a tag team effort.”
That comment made him laugh.“I can handle them.”
“Uh-huh.That’s what they all say, until they’re caught in the middle of an interrogation and can’t escape.”The look on Ian’s face said he might be re-thinking his desire to track down Pop.“Anyway, he’ll probably find you soon enough, and don’t think he hasn’t been gathering information for future use.I just want to make sureI’mnot part of that information.”
“Got it.”
“So, let’s talk about something else.Do you love the anise pizzelles or do you favor vanilla?”
“Anise of course.Anything else doesn’t measure up.”
“Agreed.I’ve always favored anise, but most of my friends prefer vanilla.Do you know there’s also chocolate, orange, lemon, and just about any other flavor you can imagine?”She took a sip of wine, pondered the first time her ex-fiancé tasted a pizzelle, and almost spat it out.
“Those are imitations.”Ian forked a chunk of salad, slid his gaze to hers.“Nothing quite compares to the real thing.”
Oh, there was definite heat in those words.The man might look different than he had ten years ago, but he was still the same Ian Finnegan.She’d forgotten how charming he could be, how he could make his voice dip, make her insides jumble, make her want–
