“Sounds like you have some good memories from growing up.”
Madeline realized she did have some wonderful memories. She’d been trying so hard this last month to just avoid thinking about her life and her memories. She wondered how long until she could take the memories out, enjoy them, and they wouldn’t hurt quite so much. It was safer to stuff them all away.
The waitress came back with their drinks. Madeline sipped on the surprisingly good red wine. Gil drank his beer straight from the bottle. He scooted his chair a bit away from the table, leaned back, and stretched out his long legs. He looked over at her and flashed an irresistible grin. Oh, but she could resist. She could. No more falling for someone with outrageous wild male charm. She’d seen how far that had gotten her.
~ * ~
Gil took another swig of his ice cold beer. That Madeline was a complicated woman. Though, to be honest, weren’t they all? He’d get her to open up, and as soon as she did—bang—she’d shut down again. He wasn’t sure why he was even trying to get to know her. They could just try and figure out this Paul stuff, and she’d move on.
The warm glow from the candles on the tables flickered across her hair. The light illuminated her face—her very serious face. He watched her, obviously lost in her thoughts as she sipped on her wine.
He understood the pain of losing your momma. He did. But this woman’s face showed more than just loss. It showed, what? Resignation? Giving up? Or maybe it was just her armor to protect herself from pain. He could understand that.
“You ever going to smile again?” Gil had no idea what had put that thought in his head or what had possessed him to ask that. This woman made him say the most ridiculous things.
“What?”
“A smile. It sometimes makes you feel better.”
“Gosh, thanks. That helps so much.”
Her voice dripped with sarcasm and he instantly regretted his remark. Prickly thing, wasn’t she?
“Okay, sorry. I just was hoping to bring you here to relax and have some fun. You don’t look like you’ve had fun in a very long time.”
Then he saw it, just the hint of a smile.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off. And no, I haven’t had much fun in what seems like forever.”
“Then let me show you a good time tonight. Just relax and enjoy yourself.” Another platitude. She was going to snap at him again.
But, she didn’t. She actually kept that hint of a smile—he could see one dimple on her cheek—and didn’t even tell him to go shove it. He must be improving his game.
The singer came back just then and walked up to the microphone. “Okay, why don’t you all join me for this next one.” The music started and one by one the crowd joined in.
Gil looked across the table and was startled to see that Madeline was singing along. She looked to be thoroughly enjoying herself.
Her voice drifted across the table, singing the song about lonely nights.
He could relate to that. The lonely nights. He sure had his share of them these days. But it was safer that way. Much safer. Lonely nights sure sounded better to him than being stomped on by someone you cared about when you had least expected it.
CHAPTER FIVE
The warm heat in the cab of the truck washed over Madeline. She was pleasantly full from the wonderful meal of fried chicken. She had to agree it was probably the best in the county, like Gil had promised. They’d talked through dinner about bits of their lives, their childhoods, movies, books and a whole plethora of hopscotching subjects. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such an enjoyable evening.
“You warm enough?”
Gil’s voice poured over her, making her feel, for a brief moment, that all was right in her world. When of course it wasn’t.
“I’m fine.”
“I had a good time tonight.”
“I did, too. The chicken was wonderful. You were right.”
“Could you say that again?”
“Say what?
“The part about me being right?”
A smile tugged at the corners of Madeline’s mouth. “You were right, but don’t expect me to admit that again any time soon.”
“As long as you admitted it once, I can remind you of it over and over,” Gil teased. They rode on in silence, the headlights cutting swaths of light along the country road. The motion of the truck began to lull her into a dreamy, lost-in-thought state. So peaceful.
“So, you’re coming over tomorrow first thing?” Gil’s voice jostled her out of her complacency.
She pulled her thoughts together to answer. “Yes, right after breakfast. Don’t want to miss Rebecca’s breakfast, that’s for sure. Though I’ve eaten more in the last few days than I’ve eaten in weeks and weeks.”