that suggested she’d heard things that maybe others didn’t know. There were, despite what everyone in town thought, things not even Grace would share with the world, not if she felt somebody stood to be hurt by the talk.
She looked Mitch directly in the eye. “And you already know what I think about it being time for you to move on.”
He laughed. “Grace, you probably know a lot more about romance than I ever did, but it seems to me that being steady almost never sends a woman’s pulse scrambling.”
“It does when she’s been dealing with a man like Ed. And you know exactly what I mean, a man with a broken moral compass,” Grace replied firmly. “Trust me on that. I hear things.”
Mitch nodded. “More than you need to, I suspect,” he said wryly. “And I’ll keep your advice in mind should something change. Now, do you suppose I could get my eggs, ham and grits?”
“You’ll get oatmeal on a chilly morning like this,” she countered, then gave him a wink. “Then we’ll see about the rest.”
“How on earth do you keep customers coming in here if you boss ’em around like this?”
“What can I say? I have a charming personality,” she said. “And I always have the best gossip in town.”
That, to his dismay, was all too true. “Just as long as I’m not your hot topic for today, I’ll put up with the oatmeal,” he called after her.
“Why would I talk about you? So far, you haven’t done a single outrageous thing,” she called back, then added, “more’s the pity.”
Trying to imagine what would happen if he did break any of the hard and fast rules he’d lived by since Amy’s death, Mitch prayed for the fortitude to keep it that way. As much as he loved Grace’s sass and vinegar, he wasn’t quite ready to be on the menu right along with the tuna melt.
* * *
Satisfied that she’d grilled Jeremy sufficiently to eke out a passing grade on his history test, Lynn sent him off to school, then walked into town. Outside Wharton’s, she grabbed the local weekly, then went in for a cup of coffee she intended to nurse as long as possible. Grace gave frequent refills, so it was usually enough caffeine to get Lynn through the day.
“Well, well, look who’s here,” Grace said loudly as she entered.
Only then did Lynn notice Mitch sitting by himself in a booth just inside the door. He gave her what looked like a nervous smile, then gestured to the table. “Join me?” he asked with apparent sincerity.
“Are you sure? You look as if you’ve finished. Don’t you need to be over at Raylene’s soon?”
“The crew knows what to do if they get there before I do,” he assured her. “Coffee?”
“Yes,” she said eagerly even as Grace arrived with a cup and filled it to the brim, then refilled Mitch’s, a smirk on her face.
Lynn watched her walk away. “Was she smirking?”
Mitch sighed. “She was. Trust me, you don’t want to know why. How about something to eat? My treat.”
“No, thanks,” she said, though she couldn’t help gazing longingly at a plate of French toast as Grace carried it by.
“When was the last time you had Grace’s French toast?” Mitch asked with a knowing grin.
“A while,” she admitted. “But seriously, I’m not hungry.”
“Nobody looks at food the way you just did unless it’s a real temptation,” Mitch said, then called out to Grace. “An order of French toast, Grace, and put it on my tab.”
“Done,” she called back.
Lynn regarded him with dismay. “You really didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. Having someone besides Grace to talk to while I finish my second cup of coffee is a real treat.”
“I heard that,” Grace said as she passed by. She gave Lynn a wink. “The man has the hots for me, and don’t think I don’t know it. So does Neville, but my husband claims he’s past caring what I do as long as I quit bothering him.”
Lynn laughed, noting the pained expression on Mitch’s face. “You know she wouldn’t tease you like that if she didn’t adore you.”
“I know.” He leaned across the table and confided, “The woman scares the daylights out of me. If she has her way, she’ll marry me off before the summer’s over. You probably want to run for your life.”
Once again, Lynn couldn’t control a chuckle. “I think you’re tougher than that.”
He gave her a look then that she couldn’t quite interpret.
“I used to think so, too,” he said, his voice suddenly sober.
Before she could try to figure out what he’d meant by that, Grace put a plate of thick, golden French toast in front of her, along with a pitcher of warm maple syrup, butter and a shaker of cinnamon and sugar.
“I wasn’t sure which way you liked it,” Grace said. “Me, I like the syrup, but a lot of folks prefer the cinnamon.”
“I like it drowning in butter and syrup,” Lynn admitted. She spread butter over the slices, doused them in syrup, then tried the first mouthful. “Oh, my God,” she murmured, drawing a smile from Mitch. “What?”
“I remember that look,” he said. “You used to get the same expression on your face at Rosalina’s when you’d take your first bite of pizza.”
“As if I’d died and gone to heaven?” she said. “No doubt about it. When it comes to certain foods, it’s as if they speak to some part of my soul.”
“So, pizza and French toast do that?” he asked, clearly amused. “What else?”
“Chocolate decadence cake,” she said readily. “Almost better than sex.” The second the words left her mouth, she felt herself blushing furiously. “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said that.”
He laughed. “I don’t see why not, if it’s true. I’ll have to remember your very high opinion of those things. Now tell me what you’re doing in here so early.”
She tapped the newspaper she’d set on the table. “Looking for another job.”
Mitch frowned. “I thought you were working for Raylene.”
“Only part-time. I need more hours.”
“But what about the kids?” he asked, then waved off the question. “Sorry, none of my business. I guess I just assumed Ed would be paying support.”
“He is,” she said quickly.
Mitch held her gaze. “But? I know I heard a but in your voice just then.”
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
“Is
