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No.
He was not doing this all the way through dinner. Pizza. Jodie. Conversation. Maybe a beer. He could manage that without dissecting every look she gave him like evidence in a federal case.
Probably.
Jodie’s turn signal blinked ahead of him.
Mac followed her into Lyons.
Friend dinner. He grimaced.
Mac pulled into the small lot beside the restaurant and parked next to Jodie. He hurried around the front of his truck to help her out of her RAV before reminding himself that grabbing her every time she moved probably wasn’t the way to convince her he didn’t think she was helpless.
He still opened her car door for her and offered his arm, which she took with a smile.
“You made it,” she said as he joined her.
“Barely. You drive like a maniac.”
Jodie stared at him. “What? I was doing thirty-five.”
“Really? I thought you were at least pushing forty. Terrifying.”
“Well, with all these cameras everywhere, you can’t ever know if you’re being clocked. I don’t need a speeding ticket when, ironically, I’m hobbling along here.” She laughed as they headed toward the restaurant.
And she held his arm the whole way.
The pizza place was in an old red-brick building that had been standing in Lyons for at least a hundred years. Bistro tables filled a narrow patio along one side, shaded by umbrellas and crowded with people enjoying happy hour. Classic rock played from speakers somewhere overhead, and the open front doors let out the mouth-watering scent of garlic and baking crust. Mac’s stomach rumbled, reminding him he’d skipped lunch.
“Smells amazing.”
“It’s where I get the pizza for our staff meetings and late nights. Only way to keep people from sneaking away.”
Inside, the restaurant was darker than Mac expected, with scarred wood floors, walls plastered with old concert posters, and tables tucked close together. It also felt like the inside of a giant pizza oven. The overhead fans were still. A single box fan did what it could.
Heat wrapped around him almost immediately. Mac resisted the urge to tug at his collar.
A young woman behind the hostess stand smiled at them. “Just two?”
“Yep,” Jodie said. She glanced at Mac. It lasted barely a second, but it was long enough to make his shoulders tighten.
Then she turned back to the hostess. “Could we sit outside?”
“Absolutely, I don’t blame you. The overhead fans aren’t working inside, but the patio’s gorgeous tonight. Pick a table.”
Mac followed them back out through the doors and drew in a slow breath as cooler air hit his skin. Relief moved through him before he could stop it.
He hated that.
Jodie chose a table beneath one of the umbrellas and lowered herself carefully into the chair. Mac took the seat across from her while the hostess handed them menus. Their server appeared a minute later.
“Can I start you with something to drink?”
“Mama’s Little Yella Pils,” Mac said.
Jodie looked longingly at the beer list, then sighed. “Coke for me.”
Mac raised an eyebrow.
