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around here talk. So what was that all about if you don’t care what they’re talking
about?”
“Just wanted you to be cognizant of it, sweetheart. And take whatever they have to
say with a grain of salt.”
“Huh,” she mused, as though trying to figure out small-town life. Then she added,
“So I should expect some flack for being an outsider? The ‘which one is different from the others?’ mentality?”
“Something like that.”
“Well,” she said as she lifted her chin a notch. “I suppose I don’t blame people for
staring. Hell, how could anyone not notice me when I’m holding hands with you?”
Jack chuckled. “Darlin’, I’ve lived here my whole life. Trust me, people are going to draw whatever conclusions come easiest to them. And you either get mired down in it
or you rise above it.”
“I can take it if you can. Grain of salt,” she added.
“Atta girl.” He winked at her.
Then he ducked into an alley, pulling her with him. He pushed open a glass-and-
wood door that creaked on its hinges. The faded green lettering that arched like a
monochromatic rainbow on the glass read, “Pietro’s Fine Dining.”
When they entered the establishment, Manhattan laughed softly, getting the joke.
Pietro’s was cozy and quaint, with red-and-white checkered, vinyl tablecloths, brown
cafeteria-style plastic cups and flatware rolled in paper napkins. The ambience
screamed roadside diner.
“Fine dining?” she whispered mockingly.
“Take a good whiff,” he whispered back.
She lifted her nose in the air and sniffed at the decadent smell coming from the
kitchen.
“Oh my God.” Her stomach growled again. “Holy shit,” she said, a little louder.
“Someone’s got the spicy sausage, peppers and roasted garlic down pat.”
“Good nose,” he said with a grin. “Now keep your wits about you, sweetheart.
Things are about to get interesting.”
* * * * *
“Well, there you are, sport.”
Liza tore her eyes from Jack as a rather robust woman in her late forties descended
upon them, her faded red hair pulled back in a tight bun. The white apron wrapped
around her large frame was stained with tomato sauce, and scrawled across her sagging breasts were the words, “Keep the Tips Up.”
The strategic position of the two red arrows on her chest, pointing upward, made
Liza smile at the double entendre.
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“Been waiting all day for you,” she said to Jack. “You getting lazy on me and
sleepin’ in?” She didn’t give him the chance to answer. “Well, better late than never. I still have your table.”
Liza found this amusing, considering there were only a handful of people having
lunch this late in the afternoon.
The woman’s warm, dark brown eyes shifted to Liza and she added, “For once the
town chatterboxes got it right. Damn, you are a pretty little thing. Interesting dress.”
And then she turned, rather cumbersomely given her large frame, and grabbed a menu
from the podium. “Follow me,” she said as she wound her way through the narrow
aisles, leading them to the back of the restaurant. Her hips brushed every chair she
walked past. An airline flight attendant she’d never make, for all the obvious reasons, but Liza instantly liked her.
“I’m Ruby, by the way,” she said as she gestured to an intimate booth, tucked away
in a quiet corner.
“Liza Brooks.”
Ruby handed her a menu as Liza slid into the forest green, vinyl-covered booth.
“Pick your poison, sweetheart,” Ruby said.
Liza stared at the front of the menu. “Well, let’s see…” Her options were—
Breakfast $3.95
Lunch $5.95
Dinner $7.95
“Lunch?” she ventured.
Ruby laughed. “Oh damn, Jack, she really is cute. Tell her about the food. I’ll be
back.” She turned to go, but then shifted her wide body and added as an apparent
afterthought, “Anyone ever tell you, you’ve got eyes that could stop a truck dead in its tracks?”
Liza stared up at her, dumbfounded. “I might’ve heard something along those
lines.” Her gaze shifted to Jack. “Once.”
He snickered. Ruby waddled off.
Liza glared at him as he slid onto the seat next to her. He draped an arm around her
shoulders and leaned in close to her. That he’d opted to sit on her side of the booth instead of across from her made her wonder how much more gossip they’d add to the
obviously overactive Wilder rumor mill. But with his thigh pressed against hers, his
heated gaze burning a hole in her chest and his fingers absently teasing the skin on her bare arm, she found that she didn’t really care.
“Sorry about that,” he said in his low, sexy voice. “I told her once that I wanted to meet a woman I could honestly say that to and here you are.”
Liza melted like a cube of sugar in the rain. “In that case, you’re forgiven.”
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He grinned at her. His free hand rested on her bare thigh, making her this close to spontaneously combusting.
“Jack,” she whispered. “People are watching us.”
His gaze didn’t waver. “They can’t see a thing in this corner. And even if they
could, it’s none of their business.” That he was so adamant about that—and comfortable with public displays of affection—made her relax a little. Except that her body was
vibrating all over again.
While she muddled through the passion-induced haze that filled her brain,
searching for something sexy to say, Ruby’s deadpan tone interrupted their romantic
interlude.
“So, what’d you decide?” she asked.
Jack sighed. He reached for the menu and flipped it open. “There actually are
choices,” he said. “What looks good to you?”
While Liza skimmed the vast selection, he continued on, speaking to Ruby. “I’ll
have the special.”
“You don’t even know what the special is,” she countered in her thick southern
drawl.
“Do I ever?”
“Humph,” she grumbled. “Fine. One special. By the way, your timing is impeccable
today. Your aunt and uncle were in earlier.”
Liza’s ears perked up and she glanced over at Jack. Only to find him frowning as
though Ruby had just set a brown-paper-wrapped package on the table with a ticking
time-bomb inside it.
“He stopped by the cottage,” Jack said in a tight voice. “Always the first to stick his nose in where it doesn’t belong.”