Page 20 of A Simple Life

In the month since her restaurant had opened, we had bumped into each other several times. It was odd since every time we did, I knew she was close even before our eyes would clash. The unusual seafoam color of her gaze always caught me off guard. So did the intense awareness of sensing her. I didn’t understand it.

She was always unfailingly polite, greeting me with a smile and a friendly hello. Invariably, I said something wrong and those eyes would flash, but her smile never faded. She often muttered curses or names under her breath, but to anyone looking, they would simply see two people exchanging pleasantries. They had no idea of the constant war between us. I had managed to insult her wardrobe, shoes, restaurant, even the way she had trimmed the front bushes at the house. My foot was constantly in my mouth, and I had taken to avoiding her if possible.

I threw the seed and the new rake in the back of my truck, gripping the sides of the cargo walls. My stomach was grumbling loudly. I had been snappy in the hardware store, acting, as my nephew would call it, “hangry.”

I had been so busy all day, I hadn’t eaten. I didn’t want to go to the modest Chinese place, the pizza parlor, or the more upscale Golden Butter restaurant in our small town. And the coffee shop didn’t serve meals, leaving only Kind of a Big Dill.

And Quinn Harper.

The bane of my existence.

If I went in to eat and she saw me, she’d be all smiles, sweetness, and light. And no doubt crowing in delight at her victory. I’d sworn I would never eat there. A stupid thing to say, but as I realized, I often said stupid things to Quinn.

Everyone loved her. Proclaimed her the best thing that could have happened to Richton.

She was nothing but a pain in my ass, and I refused to succumb to her charms.

If I did, the slope that would put me on was too slippery, and winter would close in fast.

My stomach grumbled again, making up my mind. It was either eat something across the street in enemy territory or do my needed grocery shopping then drive back to the farm and fix myself something to eat.

By then, I’d be past hangry and downright miserable.

The choice was made for me as I felt another rumble pass through me.

Eat.

I crossed the street, my stomping feet indicating my mood. I opened the door and stepped in, surprised to see it fairly busy for this time of day. Some tables were taken, a couple of locals at the counter. I had to admit, it smelled good. Not meeting anyone’s gaze or looking too closely, I sat in the end booth at the back, grabbing a menu. The kitchen door swung open, and I let out a sigh of relief when Tammy Becker walked out, carrying a tray. I’d gone to school with her brother. She was a lot younger than us, so I had known her all her life. She was perky, pretty, and kind. Engaged to be married next month. She delivered some food, crossing over to my booth with a smile and the coffeepot in hand.

“John Elliott, how are you?” she asked, filling the mug already on the table without asking.

“Good, Tammy. Hungry.”

She laughed, indicating the board behind her. “You came to the right place. The special platter today is delicious. And big. It might even fill you up.”

I glanced at the board and nodded. “Sounds good. Fast, if you can. I got a ton of work waiting.”

“Not a problem. Cheese on that sandwich?”

“Yep. Everything.”

“Got it.”

She walked away, and I relaxed. Maybe Quinn was out. Busy somewhere else. I could eat and leave. Pay cash. She’d never even know I was here.

It was for the best. Every time we met, there were sparks. I acted badly, she smiled sweetly, and I stormed away.

It was sort of our thing.

Not that we had a thing.

Quinn Harper meant nothing to me.

She owned a local business and rented a house from me. That was it.

I didn’t care that she was a single mother.

I never noticed how pretty her dark brown hair was. How it contrasted with those seafoam green eyes of hers.