a stealthy look in his direction. She’d made sure when she arrived that she sat where he couldn’t end up next to her. With the table full, Zach had slid into a nearby booth opposite the mayor. Reclining against the wall so as to face those seated at the table, Zach looked relaxed and too darned good-looking. The light blue shirt set off the sky-blue of his eyes. The fit of those navy slacks displayed the best male buns she’d ever seen, and, as a doctor, she’d seen a few.
“I don’t think so at all,” Viola, the only female member of the council, piped up. “We did the same thing for Bert Sacks after he got himself on the Letterman show. Why shouldn’t we do it for Colleen?”
Beth struggled not to groan. She remembered all too well the parade for Bert. The only celebrity in town. Too bad his ticket to fame had been a musical cow. Though she hadn’t lived here at the time, Beth had come home for a weekend visit to find the whole town celebrating Bert’s claim to fame. She’d almost turned around and driven right back to Indianapolis. But she’d needed a break, more to escape her disintegrating relationship than to get away from work. The marriage had been doomed from the beginning.
She shifted in her chrome and red vinyl chair. She was getting off track. Beth shoved thoughts of Matt and divorce from her mind. She didn’t have time to think about men, past or present, right now.
“Well, see here, Viola,” the mayor was saying. “We certainly intend to do right by Ms. Colleen. Her parade will be every bit as big as Bert’s was.”
Viola and the other members of the council made agreeable sounds. Beth cringed. The school band, the Girl Scouts, the local civic clubs—everyone would get into the act. Anyone who’d ever been voted for and won anything in this town, from Miss Valentine to top hog caller, would want a place in line. Beth pressed her fingers to her temples and wished she were anywhere but here.
“You’d be good at that, don’t you think, Beth?” Viola asked.
Startled at hearing her name, Beth jerked to attention. Heat warmed her cheeks. No way was she going to allow anyone—specifically Zach—to know she hadn’t been paying attention. “Oh, sure,” Beth agreed with no clue to what the woman had said. “That sounds great.”
He was watching her, she realized, tensing instantly. The beginnings of a smile played at the corners of his mouth, drawing her attention there…making her want to taste those full lips.
“Heads up,” a crisp feminine voice warned.
Beth snapped from the forbidden fantasy. The waitress was circling the table, plates balanced in both hands. Beth silently railed at herself. She had to pull herself together here. She couldn’t keep acting like she was seventeen all over again. She had this community event to plan. And, more important, she had to find some way to get the truth out of her mother.
A white stoneware plate laden with glistening green beans and chicken-fried steak accompanied by creamed potatoes dark with thick gravy was plopped down before her. Beth felt the arteries of her heart narrowing already. She glanced around the table and wondered if she was the only one concerned with living a little longer. When her gaze collided with Zach’s, he was still watching her, those blue eyes expectant and somehow knowing. That smile slid fully across his lips now and he scooped up a forkful of potatoes and popped them into his mouth, a blatant challenge.
Instantly, Beth regressed to the summer she’d been twelve and determined she could beat Zach at anything he did—including eating her mother’s lemon meringue pie.
She hated lemon pie to this day. The mere sight of it made her stomach queasy.
Beth firmed her resolve and booted the past back where it belonged, in some rarely visited corner of her mind. Her good eating habits would not be undermined by Zach Ashton. “Excuse me,” she said to the waitress efficiently making her way around the table. “I’ve changed my mind. I’d like a salad, please. Dressing on the side.”
“I CAN’T BELIEVE you missed out on Josie’s chicken-fried steak.” Zach chuckled as he pulled out onto Main Street, headed in the direction of home. “It was awesome.” He glanced at his silent passenger. She looked even more beautiful by moonlight. Forcing his gaze straight ahead, he blinked away her lingering image. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking that way, but he couldn’t get his body and mind to cooperate with each other.
“It’s called being health-conscious,” Beth explained pointedly. “You should try it. After all, you’re not getting any younger.”
A brow notched up his forehead and he stole another quick look in her direction. “Ouch,” he returned. “Surely one evening of eating on the edge won’t drive the final nail in my coffin.” A frown furrowed across his brow. “When did you get so uptight about every little thing anyway?”
She waved him off. “Typical male thinking, Ashton,” she said irritably. “You think because you play the occasional game of racquetball and pound out a few miles on the treadmill once or twice a week that you’re immune to the effects of aging.”
He couldn’t believe this. Was she insinuating that he was old? “What has my age got to do with anything?” he demanded, irritation gnawing its way through his composure. He ran a couple miles every single day. Did his time at the gym three times a week as well.
She flared her palms impatiently. “Games, Ashton,” she snapped. “You’re still playing your immature little games. You thought if you ate it, I would. Don’t try to tell me you didn’t throw down the gauntlet back there with that first forkful of potatoes. Remember the lemon pie? You were always trying to prove you were better because you were older and a boy.”
“A boy?” He darted another look at his lovely, albeit confusing, passenger. A grin stretched across his face at her stiff posture. She was furious. At what, he couldn’t be certain. Surely they could put the past behind them if that’s what the problem was. “I thought we’d already established that we’re both adults now.”
She folded her arms firmly over her chest. “Well, at least one of us is.”
He braked to a stop at a red light. Was she accusing him of being immature just because he’d eaten his steak and potatoes? He ignored that little voice that told him she was right about the challenge. It was instinct. Whenever he was around Beth, he tried his level best to treat her like one of the guys. It was the only way to protect himself from doing something completely stupid—like kissing her. The mere thought made his muscles harden, some more than others.
“Would you care to elaborate on that innuendo?” he prodded, determined to get to the bottom of her unreasonable behavior once and for all. His mother’s peculiar conduct was more than enough to contend with. He and Beth could at least be civil to each other. “The burden of proof lies with the accuser,” he added when she didn’t answer.
Beth rolled her eyes and huffed. “Don’t use your lawyer talk on me. You know exactly what I mean.”
“You’re saying that one of us isn’t an adult. I just wondered from what basis you drew your conclusions.”
She shifted to face him, one long shapely leg crossed over the other, and totally unaware that her dress had slid up a few more inches, showing off a little more tanned thigh. Zach’s mouth parched as he sneaked a second look.
“Well, let’s see,” she began, ticking off the list on her fingers. “There’s the cherry-red sports car and the GQ look.” She shook her head as if what he had was terminal. “Not to mention the immortal male attitude.”
