She was still smiling at the thought when he looked sideways down at her. “What do you recommend? I’ve never been here.”
“But this is the place to go in Danville.” She raised her eyebrows. “Don’t you drink coffee?”
“Sure, normal coffee. I have no idea what half that stuff is.” He waved a hand at the board. “I mean, I know what Rattlesnakes and Honeybees are, but they aren’t something you pour in a mug. And a Jitterbug is a dance, not a coffee. Maybe I’d just better stick with the regular stuff.”
She put a hand on her hip and tossed her curls. “Well, I don’t know if I can go out with someone who’s never drunk a Jitterbug.”
Oops. She shouldn’t have mentioned going out. No reason to pretend this was anything more than a spur-of-the-moment conversation between friends. Good looking or not, she needed to remember that they were just friends, and they’d better keep it that way.
He looked startled for a moment, and then a slow grin spread across his lips. “I’ll try anything once, and I’m highly motivated.”
O-kay. Obviously he’d like it to be more.
A blush at his blatant compliment threatened, and she looked purposefully at the menu board. “If you like caramel, the Jitterbug is good. Or if you like vanilla . . .” Her voice trailed off as the blush warmed her cheeks. The vanilla latte was called a French Kiss. Better not go there.
“It all sounds good. Hey, look at the Depth Charge. Four shots of espresso?” He gave a low whistle. “I’d be awake for a week if I drank that.”
“Amateur.” She pretended to heave an exasperated sigh. “Maybe you’d better leave this in the hands of an expert.” She stepped up to the counter. “We’ll have two Temptation Lattes.” She gave him a sideways glance and added, “Extra whip.”
He read the description. “Hazelnut, white chocolate, cinnamon.” Nodding with approval, he said, “Good choice.”
Tori considered paying for her own, but he whipped out his wallet before she could do more than reach for her purse. Okay, this was his idea, his invitation. Let him pay this time. She left him at the counter and wandered over to pick out their seats. Maybe the comfy leather sofa? Too hard to look at each other if they sat side by side. The matching oversized chairs? No, too cozy. A regular table, then. That way they could face each other and have the barrier of a surface between them. She selected one against the window.
A few moments later, Ryan set a steaming mug piled high with whipped cream and a couple of napkins in front of her. “Here you are. And I just want you to know, I’m expecting big things from this. My supper last night cost less than one of these cups of coffee.”
“Really?” Tori wrapped her hands around the warm mug. “Where in the world can you eat a meal for under four dollars?”
“Are you kidding?” He looked at her through narrowed eyes. “You obviously don’t indulge in fast food. I would die of starvation if it weren’t for the ninety-nine-cent menu at the restaurant near my apartment.”
“I’ll tell you a secret.” She leaned toward him across the table. “Sometimes on the way home from the office at night, I run through the drive-thru and get a super-size order of fries. I love them. I just can’t eat them as often as I like or I’d be as big as a house.”
His eyes warmed with admiration. “You don’t have anything to worry about on that front.”
Tori’s face heated and she tore her gaze away. Oh, this one was a charmer, once he got past the tongue-tied stage. She picked up her mug and held it aloft. “Okay, Mr. Fast Food, tell me what you think.”
He made a show of bringing his cup to his lips, elbow extended and pinkie in the air. When he lowered it, whipped cream clung to his upper lip.
He closed his eyes and swallowed. “Mmmmm. Okay, suddenly I see the attraction.” He opened his eyes and gave her a stern look. “But that is not coffee. It’s dessert.”
“It’s a treat. An adult treat.” She sipped from her own cup. Ahhh. Heavenly. Funny how her favorite drink tasted even better in the company of someone who was experiencing it for the first time.
“So, what was so important that your boss made you come in to work on Sunday morning?”
“A new project.” She grimaced. “It could either end up meaning a big promotion, or my exit from the company.”
He planted his elbows on the table, the mug engulfed by his hands. Big, strong hands. Tori fought an urge to hold her own dainty one up to compare.
“Sounds important.”
“Oh, it is.” The espresso machine hissed as the barista prepared another order. “And it’s going to be a lot of work. Just before Joan’s wedding too.” She couldn’t stop a scowl at the mention of the Big Event.
He cocked his head. “What was that for?”
Oops. He was, after all, one of Ken’s friends. “What?” She rounded her eyes and looked innocent.
“Come on, don’t give me that. You made a funny face when you mentioned the wedding. Aren’t you looking forward to it?”
“Oh, totally.” She twisted sideways in the chair, coffee in her hand, and avoided looking into his face. “I just meant it’ll be hard getting my project done and helping with the wedding at the same time.”
Ryan looked unconvinced. “Hmmm.”
Better change the subject quick. “Tell me about you. You mentioned a brother. Do you have more family?”
He nodded as he gulped from his cup. “My mom and dad still live in Junction City, where I grew up. Pop has a farm there, and my brother Walt and his wife bought the adjoining property a few years ago. They have a pair of rascally boys and another baby on the way. In fact, I found out today that my sister-in-law knows Joan. We all graduated from high school the same year.”
“Your sister-in-law is Joan’s age and she has three kids?” Tori raised her eyebrows. “She must have married young.”
“Uh, yeah. She did.”
He looked away. Was he embarrassed?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” She placed a hand on his arm. Warmth from his skin tingled in her fingertips. Uh oh. She recognized that tingle. Definite attraction going on here. And she had been determined not to let that happen. She moved her hand and laid it in her lap where he couldn’t see her rubbing her thumb across her fingers.
He seemed not to have noticed. “No problem. It’s no secret around these parts. Walt is five years older than me. Loralee played in the band over in Mercer County, and she came to my school when their football team played ours during our senior year. Walt was there to see me play. They hooked up at halftime, and next thing they knew, Butch was on the way.” He twisted his lips. “It happens.”
“So Butch is how old?” She scrunched her nose, calculating. “Nine?”
“That’s right. And Cody is almost eight.” A smile softened his features. “They’re great kids. All boy, though. Always in trouble over something or other. They remind me of Walt and me when we were growing up on the farm.”
He grew up on a farm. Tori eased backward until her back was resting against the chair. Yet another big difference between them. And his parents were still together. Her smile became brittle, and she raised her cup to hide it.
Apparently not fast enough.
“What?” He cocked his head and fixed a speculative gaze on her. “You don’t like farms?”
“Honestly?” She lifted her shoulders. “I have no idea. I’ve never spent any time on a farm.”
“So what was that grimace about?”
Tori straightened, her spine stiff. “I did not grimace!”
“Yes, you did.” A teasing grin twisted his lips. “It was a cute little grimace, but it was a grimace.”
Stomach tickling, Tori couldn’t help returning his grin. He really was nice looking, with that dark hair and those light brown eyes that didn’t bother to hide his attraction to her. She relaxed and sipped her latte before answering. “I was just thinking of the differences in our backgrounds.”
“Like the country mouse and the city mouse?”
/>
She gave a small laugh. “That, and the fact that you had both your parents while I only had one.”
For some reason she found it hard to meet his gaze. She stared at her fingers as she folded a napkin over and over.
“That must have been tough.”
She tilted her head in a quasi-shrug. “For a while. But after Daddy left we still had Mom and our grandparents. We survived.”
“Do you ever see him?”
“Not since I was nine.” The napkin was as small as it could go, so she reversed the process and started unfolding it. “I have no idea if he’s even still alive.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t searched for him.”
Startled, she looked up into Ryan’s face. “Why would I do that?”
His turn to shrug. “Just to know.”
She had never considered looking for Daddy. He’d disappeared, deserted them, and apparently never looked back. They were still here, still in the house Gram and Grandpa had owned when he left, at least for a little while longer. He knew how to get in touch with them if he wanted to, so his fifteen-year silence spoke volumes about the depth of his concern for his daughters. Or lack of concern. Better to let him stay in whatever cave he’d crawled into.
But what if something had happened to him? What if he was dead? She could admit to herself that the thought had occurred to her more than once. That could be the reason they’d never heard from him. In fact, death was the only acceptable excuse for his continued silence, as far as she was concerned.
Tori unfolded the final crease in the napkin, but instead of smoothing it out on the table’s surface, she wadded it into a ball in her fist. If he was dead, they would certainly have been informed by some authority or other.
“I don’t want to know,” she told Ryan. “We’re better off without him.”
He studied her for a moment, then gave a slight nod. “I understand.”
Tori raised her gaze from the napkin. A softness in his eyes drew her; she found herself leaning toward him across the table. Ryan exuded a wholesomeness that she never saw at the office. Certainly not in Mitch, whose eyes always held secrets behind a mocking gaze. There were no secrets here, only an open honesty that hinted at reserves of strength.
“Let’s don’t talk about me anymore.” She presented him with a dimple. “I want to know about you.”
He laughed, and shook his head. “There’s not much to tell. I’m—”
He didn’t get to finish. The door to the restaurant opened, and a pair of boys raced inside. Two heads, both covered with mops of dark red hair, turned their way. When the boys caught sight of them, they zipped around a row of tables in their direction.
“Uncle Ryan! We came to drink fancy coffee too.”
Tori’s jaw went slack. Ryan’s nephews? What were they doing here? She looked at him and saw that his cheeks had grown ruddy. At that moment, a pregnant woman with a thick mane of hair the same hue as the boys’ followed at a more sedate pace.
“Uh, sorry to interrupt.” She smiled apologetically at Ryan. “The boys just wouldn’t let up pestering me.”
The younger one’s eyebrows drew down over his eyes. “But Mama, you said—”
The woman stopped him with a gentle shove toward the counter. “Go on, now. See what you want. Butch, help your brother read the menu.” They raced off, and she raised her voice to follow them. “Nothing with caffeine.” She turned back toward Tori with a grin so wide she looked like she had a coat hanger lodged in her mouth. “Hi. You probably don’t know me. I used to be Loralee Planter.”
Her words were weighed down with the deep Kentucky twang that seemed to strike hit-or-miss in this part of the state.
“Hello. It’s nice to meet you.” Tori took her hand. The skin felt rough, and she couldn’t help notice the nails had been bitten, but were clean.
Ryan was staring, tight-lipped, at his sister-in-law. “I didn’t know you liked The Hub.”
Loralee gave an awkward laugh and patted her bulging belly. “Oh, you know. Once I get something in my mind these days, I just can’t hardly stand it until I satisfy the craving.”
She was an attractive girl, though the flush that colored her cheeks at the moment clashed with the red hair that hung in waves past her shoulders. She stood beside the table, hands resting on her stomach and staring at Tori with an eagerness that made her shift uncomfortably in the chair. Was she on exhibit or something? Tori threw a glance toward Ryan, who looked like he might leap to his feet and escort Loralee from the restaurant.
To cover the awkward moment of silence, Tori smiled up at the girl. “Ryan was just telling me that you’re the same age as my sister Joan.”
“That’s right.” Loralee’s smile widened and she turned her body slightly away from her brother-in-law. “She might not know me, though. I went to school over in Harrodsburg. But I remember you. I carried the boys to the parade the year you were the homecoming queen. Saw you sitting up there on the back of that car, pretty as a pink petunia.”
A pink petunia? Odd description. Tori stared blankly for a moment, until she remembered. She’d worn a pink dress and jacket as she rode on the back of a convertible in that parade. “Gosh, you have a good memory.”
Loralee preened at the compliment. “Listen, why don’t you come out to the farm with Ryan sometime?” Her face flushed. “We live in a little old trailer, but we’re building a house. We can have us a lemonade while Ryan and Walt are working.”
Tori glanced toward Ryan. Yes, just like she was thinking earlier—no secrets in that face. He looked like he was ready to strangle his sister-in-law. Nothing like having your relatives show up and start issuing invitations. She smothered a grin and said to Loralee, “I was just telling Ryan I’ve never spent much time on farms.”
“Then you’ve just gotta come. I can show you around.” Loralee looked toward Ryan’s stern face and her exuberance faded. She took a backward step. “I’d better get up there and help those young ’uns find something to drink that won’t send them bouncing off the walls.”
She whirled and covered the short distance to the counter, where the boys were manhandling a display of wrapped biscotti under the glowering gaze of the barista.
Ryan leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. “I never thought she’d show up here.”
Tori giggled. “It’s okay. If my sisters knew where we were, they’d probably be here too.”
An unreadable look crossed his features. He leaned forward on his elbows, his long fingers circling the mug on the table’s surface. “Actually, I think they—”
“Uncle Ryan!” A high-pitched boy’s voice interrupted whatever he’d been getting ready to say as a small body shot across the store like a bullet and skidded to a halt next to their table. “I’m getting a Wild Berry Bomb. Think they’ll set it on fire before they give it to me?”
Ryan gave Tori a horrified look that made her laugh.
“No, they won’t set it on fire,” she assured him. “It’s a smoothie.”
Ryan looked relieved. “Tori, meet Butch, my oldest nephew.”
Tori extended her hand, and the boy stared at it for a moment before giving it a solid shake. “You got pretty fingernails.”
“Thank you.”
His head tilted and looked at her. “Pretty face too.”
“Thank you again.” Tori glanced toward Ryan, whose warm eyes caught hers.
“He takes after his uncle when it comes to appreciating beauty.”
Momentarily speechless, Tori wrestled with yet another flush that threatened to creep into her face. She seemed to be doing a lot of that today. To cover the moment, she picked up her mug and brought it to her lips.
“Look what I got.” The younger boy approached at a gallop, waving a giant cookie in his brother’s direction.
Outrage stole across Butch’s features. He shouted toward his mother, who still stood at the counter, “No fair!”
“Oh, calm down,” Loralee told him as she counted out money o
n the counter. “I got one for you too.”
Butch reached out and gave Cody a shove. “So there.”
The little boy’s eyebrows gathered together. He planted his feet and shoved his brother back. “So there yourself.”
“Here, now. You two behave.” Ryan’s stern voice held a note of warning.
His command went unheeded as the boys continued jostling each other. These two acted just like Allie and Joan when they were little. Tori remembered standing on the sidelines and watching her sisters’ battles. She turned her head toward Ryan to tell him so.
The words never came. In the next instant, a young body knocked into her as Butch shoved his younger brother with force. Wet heat sloshed down her chest as her half-full mug was torn from her hand and emptied its contents on her blouse.
Gasping, Tori jumped out of her chair and pulled the hot, wet fabric away from her skin. Ryan, too, leaped up and took a step forward, his hands outstretched toward her. He stopped inches away from touching her chest, whirled, and scooped up the napkins on the table.
“Are you okay? Are you burned?”
For a moment Tori thought he might use the napkins to wipe off her blouse himself. She snatched them out of his hand. “I’m fine.” Her voice came out a little sharper than she intended, but ouch! Not blisteringly hot, but definitely hot tub hot. Flapping the fabric to cool it down, she forced a smile to her lips. “It’s not too bad. No harm done.”
Except to her brand-new pink blouse. She blotted at the dark stain. No chance at all it would come out. The wet fabric clung to her skin, her bra clearly outlined. She turned away from Ryan. Great. Just what she wanted to do, treat him to a peep show at The Hub.
“I’m so sorry.” Loralee rushed over, horror coloring her features. She turned a fierce glare on her sons and spoke through gritted teeth. “Apologize. Right. This. Minute.”
Two red heads ducked toward the floor. “Sorry,” a pair of voices mumbled.
A wave of compassion swept over Tori at the sight of their slumped shoulders. “Accidents happen. It’s okay.”
Third Time's a Charm Page 7