Chapter Nine
“Are you readyto quit?” Connor asked Sierra sometime later.
“No, I’m about to have a breakthrough.”
“You’re about to fall on your ass. Again.”
“No, I’m no—” Her skates went out from under her and next thing she knew she was on her ass. Her very sore ass.
Connor offered his hand. He didn’t say anything else, but his expression said it all.
“Fine. But I’m not giving up.”
“Like that surprises me. I promise, we’ll go again soon, okay?”
Sitting gingerly on the bench beside the pond—which was a pond, no matter what the natives thought—she unlaced her skates.
“I’m hungry,” Connor said. “Want to go to the Main Street Diner?”
“I’ve been there for lunch but not dinner. It was good.”
“Dinner’s just as good. Next time we can go to the Graff or Rocco’s. Or maybe the steakhouse. But since we just finished skating, I thought the diner would be better.”
“Works for me.”
A short time later they were seated in one of the diner’s red vinyl booths and looking over the menu. The decor was old-fashioned with heavy red-brick walls and a solid wood floor. Red leather-covered stools waited at the counter, one of the locals’ favorite places to dash in for lunch, dinner, or the pie it was famous for.
“Obviously, you like ice-skating since you made me promise to take you again.”
“I do but I think my butt’s going to be very sore because it hurts now. Actually, all of me will be sore. I already am.”
Connor laughed. “You did really well. You took me out, but luckily everyone else escaped harm. You did well, especially considering it was your first time to try it.”
“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”
“Probably not.”
She laughed. “It was fun. But I want to get better. Should I see if I can take lessons?”
“Why? You have me.”
“You don’t mind teaching a beginner?”
He took her hand and smiled at her. “Not if the beginner is you.” Still holding her hand, he glanced at the menu. “The hamburgers are really good here.”
“Good. I want a hamburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake. I’m starving.”
“I’ll have the same thing. That sounds good.”
He gave their order to the young, gum-smacking waitress. Brenda, her name tag read. “Be right out,” she said and disappeared.
“Do you think she’ll remember?” Sierra asked doubtfully. “She didn’t write it down.”
“Probably. It wasn’t a complicated order. Flo is the regular waitress but Brenda fills in for her sometimes. They wouldn’t keep her on if she couldn’t remember an order.”
A short while later she brought them their order. The correct one, Sierra noticed. They were both quiet while they ate, until Sierra slowed down. “About our deal—” She broke off, unsure what to say.
“Deal?”
