“What should I wear?”
He took his time, allowing his warm gaze to peruse her body before moving back to her face. “Tennis shoes. We’ll do some walking.”
They both glanced at her feet—her white Keds were smudged with dirt, while his Nikes looked brand new. He could almost hear the wheels clicking in her mind, gathering steam.
He tipped her chin until their eyes met. “Don’t worry about the shoes. You can wear what you have on. This is casual. So you’ll go?”
Say yes. Say yes. Say yes.He held his breath and waited for her to decide.
There were somany reasons to say no to another date with Hank. If they were written on folded slips of paper, Bethany could build a bonfire. My God, the difference in their shoes alone was reason enough to keep her distance. His were so fancy they could be on display in a museum.
Her dad used to warn her that her curiosity would spell her doom. Maybe he was right because Bethany found she badly needed to know what Hank wanted to show her. Looking into his eyes, she promised herself she would make this their last outing. “Yes.”
He bent his head and pressed his lips against hers, and any remaining thoughts disappeared in a rush of passion. Hank tasted of sweet tea and apples and desire. She spread her hands along the solid planes of his chest and did her best to memorize the hard feel of him so she could pull it out to analyze when she was in bed later tonight. One day, soon enough, all she would have of him would be these few precious memories. She didn’t kid herself that Hank would stay in Cleveland. And she couldn’t leave Travis and the family business.
He wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss. Her body responded like he’d found an on switch. She made a small noise, which he interpreted as consent because he tugged on the strings of her apron until it slipped to the floor. His large hands circled her waist, and he pulled her against the hard length of his body. A sharp noise caught her attention. Her heart jumped, and his hands stilled. They both looked toward the swinging doors. Travis stood in the opening.
Hank pulled her to his side like it was the most natural thing in the universe. He draped a long arm around her shoulders, trapping her. “Hi, Travis.”
Concern gathered on Travis’s face like a string ofthunderclouds before a storm. He pointed at Hank. “Sam’s in the dining room waiting for you.” Then he cast a concerned look her way. “You okay, Bethany?”
She cleared her throat and tried to step away from Hank, but his arm tightened, so she didn’t get far. “Yeah, I’m fine. Hank and I were just...er...”
Hank smiled. “Getting better acquainted. I’m taking your sister out after the restaurant closes. Don’t worry. I’ll have her home by a reasonable hour.”
He bent, picked up the apron, and set it on the worktable. Then he leaned down, kissed the top of her head, and beamed her a smile as bright as a flare. “If you need me, honey, I’ll be in the corner whipping Sam’s butt in checkers.”
He grabbed the dark sunglasses and hat, which Bethany realized were his latest disguise, and put them on. “Thanks for the muffin and tea.”
He strolled by Travis, who stepped aside, then came toward her as soon as Hank had cleared the exit.
“I thought you didn’t trust him? Now you’re a couple?” Her brother squinted his eyes like he was trying to solve an unsolvable equation.
Bethany turned to the dishwasher to avoid his accusatory stare. “We’ve only had one date. That hardly makes us a couple.”
“The last time you went out with Hank, he upset you. Now you’re going on another date? I thought you didn’t like him?”
She paused over the dishes. She owed Travis an explanation. “I may have misjudged him.”
“So he’s not a Hollywood player?”
She filled the canisters with clean silverware. “DidI say that?”
Travis pulled clean glasses from the dishwasher and added them to the open shelf where they were stored when not in use. “Worse. You called him a stud rooster. Said he was after every feathery hen in the hen house, including you.”
Bethany floured the worktable and grabbed the pizza dough she’d thawed earlier in the day. Calzones were on the menu, and she wanted to have them in the oven well before the usual customers showed up for dinner. “I may have been hasty.”
Travis settled on a stool and watched her work with the dough. “You were kissing him just now—I assume you like him? Or do you always go around kissing men who happen to be our landlord?”
Bethany picked the dough up, twirled it, flipped it, and spread it with her fingers. “I neverdidn’tlike him. I just wasn’t sure if we could trust him. I’m still not. But I am curious about what he wants to show me, and he is entertaining.”
Travis gave her a my-big-sister-is-nuts laugh.
She stopped working. “What’s the joke?”
“Bethany, you like him. It’s okay to say it out loud.”
“Don’t be silly.”
