Luck of the Draw (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 1) (6 page)

“I skipped lunch,” he said.

“Really?” she challenged.

“Really.”

She swallowed, the air inexplicably charged. She had no idea what was going on between them, but it didn’t feel like disinterest.

“Well,” she finally said, breaking eye contact, “I’ll need to place our order and get directions. Things have changed so much since I was here ten years ago, I don’t recognize
—”

“I’ll pick it up.”

“You will?”

“Sure.” A ghost of a smile played at his lips as he stepped abreast of her in the doorway. He ducked his head and whispered in her ear, “But it doesn’t mean I want any.”

Kate lifted an eyebrow, heat sizzling to her toes. “Who said I was offering?”

“A
SALAD.
I
SHOULD MAKE A SALAD.” Kate stared at the contents of the small refrigerator as if she hadn’t just put away the groceries an hour earlier. As soon as Jim had driven away for the pizza, she’d dashed upstairs to change out of her sweaty travel clothes. “A salad doesn’t make it a date or anything,” she told herself. “It just makes it a well-rounded meal.”

Retrieving assorted produce from the crisper, Kate set it on the counter. “Liam? Are you being good?” He’d walked by moments earlier with another box of construction vehicles.

“Liam?”

“Yup.”

Kate smiled at the distinctive sound of make-believe engines. “Stay in the house, please.”

“’kay.”

Kate pulled a wooden cutting board from beside the sink and ran her hand over its rough surface. Marked and stained from years of use, it would have disgusted Randy, but to Kate it felt good, like countless meals prepared and enjoyed.

It was something Randy had never understood, her love of old things. She’d always been drawn to objects which held the mark of use, purpose, the patina of age. They told stories to her. Held secrets.

To Randy they were in need of replacement.

“That’s how you and I differed,” she mumbled. As if a love or disdain of antiques had been the ruin of their marriage.

She rummaged for a knife and began washing and chopping vegetables. Anyway, it seemed unfair to point out petty differences to a dead man. They’d had things in common, too. Hadn’t they both liked the house just so?

Then she paused, the bright red pepper glossy under the cold water, remembering Randy’s crushing words as if he’d said them yesterday.

“...you’ve let the house go, Kate. Hell, you’ve let yourself go. Who would have thought becoming a mother would make you less of a woman?”

Liam had been two months old then. He’d just begun to smile.

Kate stared at the red pepper in her hand, her fingers numb in the running water.

She pulled the seeds out in one hard yank and began to chop.

She’d been mistaken about Randy. While she embraced the natural order of things, Randy had striven to impose his own order on his surroundings. It took six months of therapy to learn that when he couldn’t control his own weakness, he’d tried to control everything else.

Including her.

As if she’d been a
thing
to boss around.

Kate hurriedly tossed salad into bowls as she heard the sound of a man’s footsteps on the front porch.

“I was never a thing,” she murmured as she adjusted one of the placemats she’d found in a drawer, “I was your wife. And I was always,” she put a hand over the fluttery hunger pangs in her stomach and turned toward the deep voice in the front hall, “a
woman
.”

K
ATE STOOD JUST OUT OF SIGHT as she heard Jim thank Liam. 

A moment later, the screen door banged shut and Liam ran through the house yelling, “Dinner!”

Jim rounded the corner to the kitchen and held up the pizza boxes. “I’m back.”

Kate made a pretense of wiping her hands on a dishtowel. Not that they were wet or anything. But she felt the need to think, and cleaning always helped her think. “That was fast.”  Long enough to make a tossed salad, change into fresh clothes, put in her favorite pink cubic zirconia studs, and mop her face with a cool washcloth but not long enough to shower. Or brush teeth. Don’t ask her how she knew.

“It’s not far.” He tilted his chin toward the boxes in his hands. “Hope you don’t mind, but I got one cheese and one everything.”

“Anything’s fine,” she said. She bit her lip and attempted to relax
.
“Can I get you something to drink? Water? Iced tea?”

“Iced tea would be great.”

She poured two glasses, acutely aware of Jim moving around as he set the pizza boxes on the short peninsula between the kitchen and dining area. She turned and handed him his tea. “So, would you like some pizza to go with this or were you just delivering?”

His lips tilted with humor. “
Hmm
. By pizza, I’m assuming you mean…”

“Pizza.” She said, the breath light in her chest.

She swallowed, the words ‘hooking up’ floating across her consciousness, and for the first time ever she understood the power of the phrase. Its impact was more than a moment’s shock value. Once spoken, the words couldn’t be taken back. They were
out there
. Hovering between them. Coloring the most innocuous comments with sexual awareness.

Or maybe that was just her.

Jim sipped from his glass.

She sipped from hers.

A moment later Liam slammed into her legs with the full force of a three year-old. “Momma! Let’s eat!”

“Okay. Okay. Go sit down.” Iced tea splashed onto her arm and the floor, effectively putting an end to further flirtatious banter as Liam darted away again. It was just as well. She felt like the dorky kid at the school dance who’d just sloshed punch down her sleeve. Who knows what sort of things she’d be tempted to blurt out to the hunky guy standing way too near?

Besides, he was out of her league, totally gorgeous and so
not
what she needed to focus on right now.

Kate blotted up the spill on the floor and carried the salad and silverware to the table. She carefully set one knife, one fork and a folded napkin at each place setting. “Do we need spoons?”

“Spoons? It’s pizza. I usually eat it right out of the box.”

“What? Oh.” Heat warmed her cheeks. “I guess I’m not feeling prepared to entertain yet.”

“You’re in luck. Pizza is the perfect dinner for the unprepared. It even comes on a convenient, disposable serving platter.” He slid two slices of everything pizza onto a plate.

Kate cut a small slice of plain pizza for Liam. “Sorry. It’s just that Randy
—my husband—always insisted things be... just so.”

“Even for pizza?”

“You have no idea.”

Jim walked past her toward one of the mismatched barstools but then stopped. “Oh, almost forgot. Found this at the pizza place. Thought it might help you orient yourself in town.” He pulled a rumpled map out of his back pocket and smoothed it on his thigh before handing it over. “It doesn’t show everything, but it’s got most of the local highlights including the new ice cream place. You should check it out. You won’t regret it.”

“Thank you. That was very thoughtful.”

“And there goes my reputation.” He grinned, a flash of dimples causing Kate’s breath to catch.

She took the map. It was still warm from being in his pocket. A part of her wondered if it was wrong to notice that, to admire his dimples, to keep thinking about the phrase ‘hooking up’ or to feel strangely hopeful when he was near.

He’s not interested,
she reminded herself.
He’s just being friendly.

She set the map aside, put a slice of pizza onto a plate, and sat down. She busied herself picking carrots out of her salad for Liam who was idly rocking in the ugly gold rocker, his pizza sliding back and forth alarmingly.

“Oh, by the way, I should warn you the shower knob leaks a little.” Jim took a bite of pizza. Kate watched his throat as he swallowed. She tried to think practical, hope-squelching thoughts. “I’ve got a new knob and head on order, but it’s okay to use in the meantime. Should be able to switch them out in a couple days.” He served up some salad. “So how long are you here for? Grams didn’t say.”

“Me? A couple months.”

He gave a low whistle. “That’s quite a vacation. What do you do you can take that much time off?”

“I’m a Headmaster’s assistant at a small, private school.”

“Must be nice to have your summers free. When do you start again? September?”

“End of August, actually. If I go back, I’d need to help prepare for the new term.”

His eyes widened ever so slightly. “If?”

“It may not be practical to go back.”

She concentrated on wiping a smear of pizza sauce off Liam’s cheek then leapt to her feet. “Sorry. I forgot the salad dressing. Do you like Ranch or Italian?”

“Italian would be great.”

“I’ll be right back.” Kate scurried to the kitchen, ineffectually tucking her hair behind her ear again—she so needed to get it cut!—before finding the dressing and setting it in front of Jim. She frowned at her son.  “Liam, how many pieces does that make?”

“Two,” Jim offered.

“Eat some carrots, young man.”

“’kay.”

“Speaking of eating,” Jim said as he dug into his salad, “if you don’t sit down, we’ll be half-done before you even touch your food.”

She perched on the edge of her barstool and stared at the slice of pizza on her plate.  “It’s all right. My appetite has been kind of sketchy lately.”

“Stress?”

“You could say that.”

“A nice cold beer usually cures that for me.” He looked at her, his fork hovering over his food. “Did I say something wrong?”

“I don’t drink.”

“I see.”

“I mean
—”

“No, don’t explain. I’m sorry if I said something
—”

“You didn’t say anything. It’s just... my husband was an alcoholic, and I
used
to drink... I mean,
I’m
not an alcoholic. I used to drink it—alcohol, that is—but I don’t... now.”

Jim stared at her. Blinked.

She sighed. “I sound like a complete loon, don’t I?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“Oh Lord,” she laughed then, what she prayed was a non-maniacal sound, “I do. I’m sorry.” She picked up her fork and stabbed some lettuce in an effort to act normal. “My family’s been driving me a little crazy lately, is all. Not that they’re all bad, just—intrusive sometimes.”

“I can relate to that.”

“You’re from a large family?”

“There were seven of us.”

“Including parents?”  She picked up her tea.

“Just kids.”

She choked on her tea.  “Ohmigod! I can’t imagine giving birth seven times!”

“If it makes it any better, three of them are actually my cousins. They came to live with us after my aunt and uncle died in a fire.”

She set the glass down with a thud. “How awful. I mean, I’m so sorry.”

Jim shrugged. “I was eight, so it was a long time ago.”

“Still, that’s awfully young to deal with something like that.”

“It’s in the past.” He motioned to his bowl. “Do you mind if I have more salad?”

She glanced at his empty bowl. Randy had hated vegetables. “Of course!” But before she could pass the serving bowl, a shrill tone filled the air.

Jim pulled something from his waistband, stared at it intently for a moment, then jumped from his seat. “I’ll have to take a rain-check. I’ve gotta go.”

“Go?”

He nodded, downing the last of his iced tea. “Fire call.”

“But... your salad. And I haven’t paid you for the pizza!”

“My treat,” he said, striding to the door.

He turned abruptly. “But if you decide to buy me ice cream at the Lick N’ Dip while you’re in town, I might be persuaded. Their Kahlua fudge brownie is killer good.”

“Yay!” cheered Liam from the dining room. “Ice cream!”

Kate was about to tell him ice cream hardly made up for a whole meal, but he wasn’t listening, was already half-way to his truck. Which was okay.

If she were being perfectly honest, she liked ice cream. She liked ice cream a lot
.

CHAPTER FIVE
____________________

“G
RAMS SAID THERE’S A HOT YOUNG widow over at the cottage. Thought I might swing over and see if she needs a tour guide.”

Jim stared as his cousin pulled a water bottle from his truck and downed it in one long draw. They were both filthy and sweaty, and the acrid smell of smoke hung in the air but Jim barely noticed as his cousin’s words sank in.