“Eh, I’ve been called worse.” Liam clapped him on the shoulder as he turned around. “Let me know how it goes.”
And then he was gone, sauntering back up the street toward the pizza joint where he’d eat three meals a day if his arteries would allow it.
Jasper glanced at Emma, who was engrossed in that stupid policy-and-procedures manual. He took a deep breath, ducking casually into the entryway of the hardware store, then pulled out his phone and punched in numbers he knew by heart.
“Ramunto’s. Whaddya want?” came a familiar voice over the speaker.
“Terrible customer service and even worse pizza. You got that?”
Stefano laughed, his voice low and gravelly. “My specialty.”
“I’ve got a favor to ask.” Jasper tried to keep the smile out of his voice.
“Name it.”
“Liam just come in?”
“Ordering his usual now, yeah.”
“Good. I’ll pay you double what he’s paying if you’ll add a liberal dose of your best hot sauce to his pizza.”
Stefano laughed again. “What’d he do now?”
“He earned it. Promise.”
“All right. I’ll put it on your tab. It’s on your conscience, though, if he ends up in the emergency room.”
“Well, don’t put that much on. Just enough to make him think twice about trying to set his buddy up with a strange woman.”
“Huh. How strange is she? I mean, just so I know how much sauce?”
Jasper shook his head, glancing again at Emma, whose hair had streaks of gold he hadn’t noticed before. Of course, he’d been pretty damn busy trying not to notice anything about the woman every time he’d been at Shady Acres all week.
Every nerve of his body had told him to run. Told him to run now. Fast and hard.
“Assume she’s a troll, Stefano.”
“Done,” the older man wheezed. “But maybe it couldn’t hurt to see if he’s on to something with this one, yeah?”
“Stefano?”
“Hot sauce. Okay. You have a good night, now.”
Jasper pocketed his phone, fighting internally over which direction to walk. The safe choice would be a 180 right back to his place, where he could make a ham sandwich and watch the game—any game—upstairs.
Safe choice and smart choice, because it would take him out of range of the beautiful woman sitting all by herself, looking like she was trying not to look lonely.
He knew lonely. He felt it keenly, every damn day. His lonely, he deserved.
He didn’t know hers.
He didn’t want to.
So why was it so damn hard to turn around and walk the other way rather than stand here in the hardware store doorway like an idiot?
His phone chirped with a text, and he pulled it out to look.
Go talk to her, lame-ass.
He turned around and sent his middle finger directly toward Liam, who was now sitting at one of Ramunto’s outside tables, a large beer in front of him.
Liam lifted his beer in a cheers motion, the asshole.
Jasper’s phone chirped again. Just had to pay Stefano triple to cancel your hot-sauce order, cowboy. Watch your back.
Jasper laughed, shaking his head.
He turned back around, intending one last glance at Emma before he headed for home. He wasn’t the damn Carefree welcoming committee. She was a grown woman here on temporary stopover. She didn’t need him to take pity on her.
But when he looked, she was no longer buried in the manual. Instead, her blue eyes were staring straight at him, eyebrows up like she was wondering how long he planned to stand there not going anywhere.
Aw, damn.
If she didn’t have that little dimple…if she didn’t have that half-smirky smile on like she’d caught him and she knew it…he might have been able to give a casual wave and head on back home.
But he’d be an ass if he did that, now that she’d seen him, so he set off toward her.
“Hey, there. Find your job description yet? And really, is it a good idea to be sitting alone at a table in this high-crime hovel?”
She laughed, and he loved the way it made her eyes crinkle.
Da-amn, she was cute.
“Hovel, yes. That’s just how I was describing it to my sister.” She waved an arm around, indicating the sidewalks and park. “I mean, the flowers, the green grass, the horribly unfriendly people. It’s a wonder I haven’t fled yet.”
“I know it. I’m surprised you’ve held out for an entire week.”
“It’s a trial. I’m doing my best.” She smiled. “Are you on a very important Friday-night mission? Or would you like to sit down for a minute?”
“I wouldn’t want to interrupt Policies 101 class here.”
She closed the binder. “Puh-leeze interrupt. If I read one more sentence about body fluids, I’m not going to be able to eat dinner.”
“Well, if I’d be doing a service by saving you from the manual—”
“You would.” She rolled her eyes. “Did I mention how Bette took out three chapters? And sent me on yet another wild goose chase to find them?”
He pulled out a metal chair and settled into it, laughing. “No, but it doesn’t surprise me a bit.”
She sobered. “Do you know how she is?”
“You haven’t heard?”
“Not much.” She shook her head. “Just that she was out of surgery, things went well, and she was still planning to be back in twelve weeks.”
“Well, don’t be surprised to see her in six.”
“I won’t be. I don’t even know her, but I really won’t be.” Emma smiled. “So maybe I’ll be gone before snow flies, after all.”
“Could be.” He nodded but felt a weird pull of disappointment in his gut.
He stomped on it. Hard.
“So what’s good here?” She pulled two menus out from between the napkin holder and condiment tray, handing him one while she opened her own.
“Everything. Unless you hate mushrooms. In that case, avoid page three.”
“Axing page three. Gotcha. Thank you.”
He studied the menu, though he knew it by heart already. Gina and Stefano could pretty much be credited with providing 50 percent of his meals some weeks, though he knew damn well how to cook. He just hated doing it alone.
“So is that your place over there? Java Beans?” She pointed across the green, where his deep green sign hung, gold lettering almost glowing in the late-day sunlight.
“That’s the one.”
“I’ve only been here a week, but I have to say, your coffee seems to be legendary around here.”
“Well, you’ve tasted it.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “It’s good.”
He cocked his head. “Good?”
“Yep. I like it.” She pointed to an item on the menu. “Have you had the steak tips?”
He paused, detecting a tiny tic at the corner of her lips. Instead of answering, he casually sat back and crossed his arms, waiting.
She perused the menu, eyebrows up, even humming a little, but finally she broke into a broad smile.
“Fine. It’s nirvana. Nectar of the gods. My life is forever changed by your coffee, and when I go home, I’d like to discuss franchise opportunities. Better?”
He laughed out loud, uncrossing his arms. “Much.”
“So now can you tell me about the steak tips?”
“They’re not as good as my coffee.”
She shook her head. “Is anything as good as your coffee? In your mind?”
“Nope.”
“Healthy ego. Check. So how are the steak tips?”
“Go with the lamb.”
She shook her head. “I can’t eat anything that Mary brought to school one day.”
“But you’re okay with cows?”
“Cows are decidedly not adorable.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Have you ever looked into a cow’s eyes?”
“Have you?”
“Not my point.”
“No.” She sighed dramatically. “I’ve never looked into a cow’s eyes.”
“Obviously, if you’re ordering steak tips.”
“Fine. You have a cow thing. I’ll order the pork chops.”
He sat back like he was appalled. Totally faking it, but it was fun to see her reactions. “Don’t let the Whisper Creek women catch you doing that.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” She laughed. “Fine. I’ll have the vegetarian lasagna.”
“Good choice.” He signaled the waitress and gave their orders, then raised his water glass to hers. “But next time, get the steak tips. They’re amazing.”
Chapter 10
“So what do you think of Carefree so far?” Jasper nodded at the waitress as she delivered his beer a few minutes later, then turned his attention to Emma.
“Well, this is my first time actually seeing anything but Shady Acres or my hotel, but I like it. It’s really nice.”
“It’s paradise, right?”
“I don’t know if I’m ready to go that far yet, but this downtown area could be in a Norman Rockwell print, and the mountains? Good Lord! Every time I look, I feel like I want to reach out and see if this time, I can touch them. They’re so beautiful, but at the same time, they look—I don’t know—sort of mysterious and dangerous.”
“They are both. So don’t get any ideas about driving west and climbing them next weekend or anything.”
“No worries. I’d get lost and be a juicy little snack for something within an hour.”
“Possibly. But you’re from the land of gators. A rogue wolf pack shouldn’t scare you all that much, right?”
“An alligator’s only going to eat me if I bother it. I’m not sure it works that way with wolves.”
“Depends how hungry they are.”
“Thank you. That’s reassuring. If you need to find me in the next eleven weeks, I’ll be in my hotel room.”
He paused, studying her like he wasn’t sure whether to say what was clearly on the tip of his tongue. Then he took a sip and set down his glass.
“So no one’s told you about that hotel parking lot after dark?”
“What?” She paused her drink halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”
“Never mind. It’s probably just a rumor.”
“Jasper?” Her stomach started doing gymnastics. “What are you talking about? And if you’re trying to spook me, you can stop right now. I’m not the typical scaredy-cat female, okay?”
Yeah, that. She sounded brave, right?
Meanwhile, ten possible gruesome-death scenarios went to war in her head, vying for top billing.
“Good to know. So coyotes with paws the size of your head? They don’t make you nervous at all?”
“Coyotes aren’t that big. Nice try.”
“Coy dogs are. And they run with the coyotes.”
“Through my hotel parking lot?”
“Yep.” He nodded. “You’ll hear them at night, if you listen. Especially Big Blue. He has a very distinct howl.”
“Fearless leader, I’m guessing?”
“All six feet long and four feet high of him, yes.” Jasper nodded seriously. “So I’d highly recommend getting back to your room before dark.”
Just then, the waitress delivered their salads, and Emma welcomed the pause as they unwrapped silverware and tucked napkins into their laps.
She picked up her fork and stabbed a cherry tomato. “You actually had me until the measurements. Not bad.”
“Thank you.” He smiled. “I should have stopped while I was ahead. I could see the fear in your eyes.”
“Could not.”
“Right. Sorry. Never mess with a woman from gator-ville.” He dug into his salad. “Have you ever seen a real one?”
She tipped her head, wondering if he was kidding. You didn’t grow up in Florida—you didn’t live in Florida—without seeing them. They were just part of the landscape.
“Yes, I’ve seen them.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, there are kind of a lot of them down there.”
“I always thought they stayed clear of people.”
She nodded. “They try, but developers keep building into their habitats. And the water table’s so high in Florida that there are all of these underground streams they can travel through to get to alternate spots, so they pop up in weird places sometimes.”
“Like?”
“Golf courses. All the time, on golf courses. Condo ponds. Theme parks, even. Anywhere there’s water nearby, there could be gators. It’s just a thing.”
“You know, I might be all big, strong alpha-male, but I don’t think I’d want to live somewhere where I might trip over an alligator when I turn a corner.”
She laughed. He shivered, and in that slight motion, she could see the little boy he’d been long, long ago.
“Well, they’re not lurking around every corner. They have standards. And really, it’s the poisonous snakes you have to watch out for. They hide a lot better.”
He cocked his head, a half-smile on his face. “Remind yourself never to apply for a job with the Florida tourism board.”
She laughed. “But, sun! We have so much sun! And heat! And RVs! We have more campers per capita than any state in the union, I think. How could that not be a selling point?”
“Depends who’s driving them.”
“Generally, nobody under sixty-five. The highways from November till April are an awe-inspiring circus of RVs and eighteen-wheelers.”
“I repeat—don’t apply. You are a miserable salesperson.”
“Thank you.” She laughed. “So how would you sell this place?”
“Carefree? I wouldn’t have to. It sells itself.”
“What’s your favorite thing about living here?”
He tipped his head, thoughtful. “The coffee, of course.”
“Jasper.”
He smiled. “Has anyone told you that your imperious face is almost as effective as your Florida sales pitch?”
“No. And I happen to have a very effective imperious face, thank you.”
“It wouldn’t scare a goat. Just saying.” Then he jumped and cursed silently.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” He pulled out his phone. “I just got this new phone, and I set an alarm but haven’t figured out how to shut the vibrate thing off yet. Keeps scaring the bejeezus out of me.”
“You big, brave alpha-male, you.”
He looked up from under his eyebrows. “Don’t let it get out.”
“Should we get the check? Do you have somewhere you need to go?”
“I do.” He tucked his phone back in his pocket. “And unfortunately, it can’t wait. I’m sorry.”
“Oh. Okay. No, it’s fine.”
Emma folded her napkin, surreptitiously looking for a wingman who’d been told to watch for a signal and call with a fake emergency. But how did she think she was going to find said wingman, when she knew nobody here in Carefree? And what would it help to do so, anyway?
He pulled out his wallet. “My treat.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Thank you, though. I have an expense account. I’ll get mine.”
His eyebrows came together, and he looked like he was trying to read between her lines. Or her tone, which she realized had gone suddenly chilly. Like, arctic.
Well, what did he expect?
Then she shook her head internally. Seriously, Em? What was she expecting? Some sort of first-date gentlemanly behavior? For gracious sake, the guy had been nice enough to sit down and keep her company while she ate, even though he clearly had other things going on. She should be grateful, not feel like she was being dropped like a hot potato so he could go find a better Friday-night date.
“You thinking I have a date I need to get to?” His smile was slight, but it was there. “Or that I convinced some buddy of mine to sit three tables away and wait for my signal so he could call me with a manufact
ured emergency, because I was afraid you’d be heinously boring or hard to get along with? And of course, I did this all in the split second between the time I saw you sitting here alone and the time I sat down with you?”
“No. Of course not.”
He raised his eyebrows but didn’t speak.
Dammit.
“It crosses a woman’s mind, okay?” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “And don’t even ask me how embarrassing that is, given all that you just said, because I am a person of self-confidence and self-worth and self-everything-else-that’s-important, and I was perfectly fine sitting here on my own.”
“Noted.”
“But…thank you for keeping me company. It was nice not to sit here alone for the past hour, even though—”
“You would have been fine?” He smiled, and she loved that one side of his mouth crooked a tiny bit higher than the other side when he did so. Otherwise he might have been a little too perfect, and she didn’t want to start associating words like perfect with him. With anyone.
Especially with him.
“I know you were fine. And I know you’ll be just fine when I take off, but it was nice having dinner with you, Emma.” He took enough money out of his wallet to cover both of their dinners, and when she started to protest, he put up a hand. “Consider it a welcome-to-town gift. And a thank-you for taking care of my father. It’s the least I can do.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, somehow knowing it was useless to protest with him. “I hope you have a good weekend.”
“You, too.” He stood up, then pointed at the huge manual waiting for her in the chair. “Promise me you won’t sit inside reading that thing all weekend?”
She looked over at its bright red cover, which was mocking her with hundreds of pages filled with information she desperately needed in order to run Shady Acres for the next couple of months.
“I think it’d be a good idea for everyone involved if I sat inside and read this thing all weekend, to tell you the truth.”
He shook his head. “I’m a big proponent of procedures and policies, but I have to admit, I think your gut’s probably a better driver than any manual.”
“Well, I think that’s a great strategy if your gut’s not terrified that you’re going to do something horribly wrong, get fired, and end up collecting an unemployment check while your pet alligator starves to death.”
Taking a Chance Page 8