A few moments later, platters generously piled with home-cooked food were delivered, and those seated around me wasted no time in loading up their plates.
“You’re not going to eat?” Duke asked, leaning over to inspect my plate.
And this was why I wanted a private table. I didn’t want someone checking on my progress like I was a finicky toddler who needed supervising. I didn’t generally eat carbs, or things that were deep-fried in lard.
“I am eating,” I told him, forking up one of the beans on my plate. “These green beans are delicious.”
“Probably because they’re cooked in bacon,” the hottie said, his first words since the meal had started. “So, I hope you’re into fat,” he added with a smirk.
Not wanting to give him a bit of satisfaction, I bit into the green bean and smiled as I slowly used my lips to pull it from the fork. I didn’t miss the way his eyes widened as I ate. I learned a long time ago via Clueless that drawing attention to your mouth was always a surefire way to garner a man’s attention. Bacon fat be damned.
“I am, actually,” I said. “Makes it slide down easier.”
I watched with delight as he swallowed hard. Serves you right, pal.
I wasn’t sure exactly why I was so happy that he was caught up in my little performance, but it pleased me and stoked the small fire I could feel burning deep in my stomach when I looked at him. It was too bad he was such a jerk and that I’d sworn off men for the time being. We could have had a lot of fun together.
“You know you want some of my chicken,” Luke said, his voice low and teasing.
I hated the shiver that raced along my spine. “I do not want your chicken.”
“It’s okay. You can have some, duchess.”
Duchess? I wasn’t sure where he’d gotten the nickname until I realized he probably had me pegged for a spoiled little rich brat. To anyone who didn’t know the truth, that’s probably what I looked like. But in my heart, it wasn’t who I was.
Which was exactly why I’d fled and left everything behind.
Once I’d picked my plate clean of salad and green beans, I stood up without a word and went to the register to pay, and then hurried out the door. This entire meal had been a disaster, and I wasn’t even close to full.
“Charlotte,” a voice called out as I walked down the sidewalk toward the auto repair shop.
I turned to find Molly chasing after me, leaving her brothers waiting by the front door of the restaurant. I stopped and let her catch up.
“I’m real sorry about Luke,” she said. “He’s usually not so uptight. I’m not sure what got into him.”
In the sunlight, I could see her resemblance to her brothers. The same sun-bleached brown hair and sweet smile. But where the twins’ eyes were green, hers were brown, and she had no dimples. She was a pretty girl with a good disposition, probably the kind of person I could—or at least, should—be friends with if the circumstances were different.
“It’s all right,” I told her. “You don’t have to apologize for him.” Looking over her shoulder, I sneaked a quick glance at the jerk. Our eyes locked for a moment, but I quickly looked back to Molly. “He’s a grown-up. He should be able to handle himself.”
“I just wanted to welcome you to town. Hope you don’t think we’re all assholes,” she said with a chuckle, and I smiled back.
“I don’t.”
“Good.” She placed a hand on my shoulder. “I hope I see you around,” she added before hurrying back in her brothers’ direction.
As nice as making a new friend would be, I was hoping my time in Shady Grove was close to over.
? ? ?
I’d been in this little town all of an hour, and already it felt like hell. After my car had coasted into Shady Grove making an awful screeching noise, I’d parked it at the only gas station I saw, which was also an auto repair shop. Unfortunately, a sign posted on the door read Closed for Lunch.
“I’m sorry, what?” I said to the attendant behind the counter. I’d been so happy when I got back from my own lunch and found that the little repair shop had reopened. My relief was quickly dashed by the woman running the register.
“Wayne’s out today,” she said.
I assumed she was referring to the Wayne of Wayne’s Auto Repair, as the sign on the outside of the building stated.
“Could you call him?” I asked as politely as I could.
“It’s Sunday.”
“Okay . . .” I waited for a better explanation, and when it wasn’t forthcoming, asked, “Why does that matter?”
She chuckled. “Wayne doesn’t work on Sunday.”
“I’ll pay him to work on Sunday.”
The one thing I had been sure to pack when I left New York was the black AmEx card my parents had given me. They might not be my favorite people at the moment, but I had no problem spending their money if I had to.
“Honey,” she said, leaning over to rest her forearms on the counter that separated us. Her graying blond hair was set in curls from what I assumed was a perm, and the realization of just how out of place I was started to set in. “Let me put it this way. Wayne doesn’t work on Sunday because he’s probably been drinking since Friday. He’d be useless today. And the Longhorns kick off in about fifteen minutes. There’s a better chance of that pretty little car of yours fixing itself than getting Wayne to come in today.”
“Maggie,” I said after glancing at her name tag. “Are there any other mechanics in this town that work on Sunday?”
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head and offered her sympathy with a half smile. “Wayne’s the only mechanic in town.”
“That’s just great.”
I rubbed my hands over my face, hoping that maybe this was all just a dream. When I opened my eyes and the fluorescent lighting and Maggie’s apathetic face greeted me, I knew my reality was much worse than I’d thought.
“What should I do?” I finally asked.
“There’s a little bed and breakfast—the Willow Inn—a few blocks that way.” She pointed out the window of the station. “Maybe get a hot shower,” she suggested. “Relax.”
I nodded, trying not to cry out of utter frustration. The last hour had been eventful, and not in a good way, and now it looked like I was spending the night in Shady Grove whether I liked it or not.
“Wayne comes in early, so as soon as you get up in the morning, you come on down. He’ll help you out.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, unable to muster up a smile. Not that she’d helped much, anyway.
I started to push through the door and set off for the B&B she’d recommended, and then glanced back in her direction.
“How far of a walk is it to the inn?” I looked down at my cute suede booties with their five-inch heels. “Should I call an Uber?”
“A what?”
“You know, like a driving service? Or maybe a cab?”