“Well, that’s fantastic.” Rosemary sighed... again. It was a miracle she still had any air in her lungs at all. “I’ve never been to England, so thanks for bringing a little of it here.”
Her lingering gaze thanked him for more than just the future food. Good grief! Was there anyone in this town capable of maintaining composure in the presence of a British accent? Coming from her, that was saying something!
“I’m Rosemary.” Did she just bat her eyelashes? “I’ve been friends with Daphne since elementary school, which means I know all of her secrets.”
Daphne’s bottom lip dropped as she turned to Rosemary. Why on earth did she say that?
“Do you now?” Finn’s eyebrows rose with interest, and Daphnedidn’t miss the slightly wicked edge in his smile. It was the look of a man who collected information like valuable currency.
Daphne twitched. “None of which are relevant,” she cut in, shooting Rosemary a lethal look that bounced right off her friend’s dazed expression. “So? Did you step inside to try arealbeverage or merely to charm my patrons?”
His grin deepened. Oh, he liked the challenge.
No matter.
She gave her head a shake. Let him charm the room. Daphne wasn’t interested in... her gaze skimmed down him.That.
“You ever notice how the pricklier the berry the sweeter the jam?” Granny D mused to Rosemary, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Rosemary nodded sagely. “Always.”
Then they had the audacity to turn and look directly, and quite pointedly, at Daphne.
She narrowed her eyes at both of them, but her glare failed to impact the moment.
“I’m standing right here,” Daphne reminded them, and then she waved toward Mr. Demeaning and Dangerous. “Besides, Mr. Dashwood was very clear that he doesn’t like tea or... neighbors, so I’m at a loss as to why he’d step foot into my tea shop at all.”
“A man who don’t drink tea ain’t died yet from the lack,” Granny D declared. “My daddy never touched nothin’ but moonshine and creek water. Lived to be ninety-two.” She leaned toward Finn conspiratorially. “Course, he did see the wampus cat three times, but that might’ve been the moonshine talkin’.”
Finn cast a wide-eyed look at Daphne. “Wampus cat?”
Daphne mouthed,“Don’t ask.”
His gaze held hers, and his slow smile sent her pulse skittering like a runaway rabbit. On steroids. She ignored it... and thought of icebergs.
“I’m actually here to provide a peace offering.” Finn dipped his headand set the container on the empty table nearby, his look searching. Almost... penitent? “My gran’s sticky toffee pudding.”
The icebergs in her mind melted. And then the scent hit her. Butter. Vanilla. Caramel. Oh no.
Do not give in to the temptation. Her attention shifted from the pudding to the man.
“You bake?”
“Among other talents.” His gaze locked onto hers. “Stereotypes are tricky things, aren’t they?”
“Lord a’ mercy.” Granny D fanned herself again. “A man with an accent who bakes? That’s like finding a four-leaf clover under a full moon. Powerful lucky.” She nudged Rosemary. “Ain’t that right?”
“Verylucky,” Rosemary agreed with exaggerated seriousness, the humor in her eyes sending another flush into Daphne’s face.
With friends like these...
“Well, I hope I’m lucky enough to make up for my earlier behavior to Miss Austen.” Finn’s confidence never wavered, but was there a hint of genuineness in his tone. Hehadbrought dessert, and Granny always said that anyone who used their own hands to make a dish should be worth listening to.
Daphne blinked a few times. The stares of the whole room seemed to be on this embarrassing performance. Heaven help her, she couldn’t seem to sort out what to say.
“Why don’t we continue this conversation away from the front door?” And out of view of the entire restaurant. She could practically hear the rumors spinning down Main Street about her imminent nuptials with the British bad boy. Ridiculous.
Without waiting for his response, she sent the room a tight smile, gingerly picked up the container of sticky toffee pudding, and wove through the tables and patrons until she slipped through the kitchen door.
