This guy was cool. “Sure. I might not mind being picked up tonight.”
He raised his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth curved in the most interesting version of a smile that Mary had ever seen. She noticed his rugged chin then, and the even craggier jawline. His eyes were cold, deep pools. Deep and full of secrets. Icy was certainly the right word for them.
His black jeans and black leather jacket added to the picture of a hard man. And wasn’t that a scar running from his eye to his temple?
She realized she might’ve been wrong. Nothing about him seemed heroic. Fascinating and handsome, maybe. But he was not a romance hero.
He reminded her of the newest actor to play James Bond. Yes, definitely. This guy looked like a secret agent.
“The name’s Jake,” he said as he turned to signal the waitress. “Jake Pierson.”
He sat down and stuck out his hand. “And you are?”
“Mary Walsh.” She took his hand and a shock wave ran up her arm.
Pulling back, she tried to look calm and pleasant instead of making a wisecrack. Wow. They had electricity between them. Just like in one of her novels. This guy was going to be it. For sure. She promised not to mess things up for herself.
The waitress brought Mary’s wine and asked Jake for his order.
“Whatever you have on tap will be good.” He gestured to Mary’s wine. “And put that on my tab.”
The waitress nodded and left.
“Did you just buy me a drink?” Mary’s nerves were jangling with anticipation.
“That okay with you?”
“Better than okay. Thanks!” The first time a stranger had ever bought her a drink. Things were looking up.
“Tell me about yourself, Mary. What do you do and where are you from?”
“I’m a librarian in Honey Creek—unfortunately.”
He chuckled and the sound warmed her down to the pit of her stomach. “Why unfortunately? I think it’s great. I recently moved to Honey Creek myself.”
“You did?” A man like this in her backwoods small town? Whoo boy. “Why?”
This time when he laughed out loud, the warmth flashed all the way through her body. It heated up parts of her that she’d barely known she had.
“I’m in commercial real estate. There’re a couple of new projects near Honey Creek that I want to pursue.”
“Really?” The possibilities for a longer-term relationship with this man danced in her mind.
She suddenly remembered that her best friend forever, Susan Kelley, had mentioned meeting a handsome new real estate agent in town. Jake must be that guy. He was sure handsome enough.
Susan had found her own true love over the past few weeks. She even had the ring to prove it. Wouldn’t it be something if Mary could find someone, too?
“I don’t want to talk about business.” He gave her a look that seemed to be full of meaning, but she had no idea what that meaning might be. “You’re not married or engaged or anything are you?”
Ohhh. That. “Me?” The giggle erupted before she could order it back. “Not at all.”
“What’s funny?”
The waitress arrived with their drink order, giving Mary a chance to think over a response. Here she was, at yet another crossroads in her life. She considered telling a white lie. Or maybe giving him a nice easy line that would avoid her having to answer. But then she remembered her father. The world’s biggest liar. And she decided she hated liars and everything that went along with them. No, she had no choice but to tell Jake the truth.
If that meant that he would do a quick disappearing act—so be it.
Jake wasn’t sure what he expected her to say in answer to his question. The woman acted much younger than her twenty-nine years. Perhaps she would say something about being more interested in intellectual pursuits. Or something about her current strange family circumstances.
A father who’d turned up newly dead, after having already been declared dead fifteen years ago, would probably wreak serious havoc on anyone’s social life.
Whatever she would eventually say, Jake was sure enjoying the play of emotions across Mary’s face while he waited. Her gorgeous eyes sidetracked him. That wondrous color hadn’t shown up particularly well in the photos his partner had faxed along with her file. What hue were they exactly? What color could she possibly list for them on her driver’s license?
Eyes: the color of fine aged whiskey. Or maybe…
Eyes: deepest amber, the color of clover honey.
“For most of my life I’ve been at least a hundred pounds overweight,” Mary finally answered flatly, with no emotion in her voice—despite what he could only describe as fear in her eyes. “I’ve recently taken off the weight and reached my goal…more or less.”
She lowered her chin, and stared into her glass of white zinfandel before continuing, “Being the ‘fat one’ in every crowd tends to put people off.”
“You can’t be serious,” he cracked, before he thought about what he was saying.
When her head came up too fast, he tried to recover. “People shouldn’t judge others by their outward appearance. You’re sure beautiful now. I would never have guessed you haven’t always looked the same as you do now. How’d you lose the weight?”
“Are you asking if I had weight-loss surgery?” She shook her head but was watching him closely. “Too chicken. I did it the old-fashioned way—by letting a psychologist take my brain out and replace it with one a hundred pounds lighter and supposedly more sane.”
A tentative chuckle leaked from her mouth, but Jake was having a hard time joining her in laughing over her little joke.
“That’s phenomenal. Your willpower must be amazing.” He reached over his untouched beer and took her by the hand, anxious to get even that much closer to her. “I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be.” She tugged at her hand halfheartedly. But when he didn’t let go, she stilled.
“Food was prime in my life.” She reached for the wineglass with her other hand. “Dr. Fortunata helped me see the truth. For years I used food to numb and distract myself.”
“Numb yourself? To what? Why would a sweet girl from a nice small town need to feel numb?”
Mary didn’t want to answer him. Couldn’t find the way. She made a big show of sipping wine instead.
In the meantime, familiar words kept circling through her mind. You’re no damned good, Mary Walsh. No one could ever love you. God only knows what I did to deserve a child like you. You’ll always be worthless and ugly. Get out of my sight.
