yes, I’ve heard the same myth,” she said, cutting him off. “I’ll let you know if I get that hungry. I’m not there yet.” And hopefully never would be, she added silently.
He looked mildly amused. “Suit yourself.”
“What, you’re willing to eat a squirrel?” she challenged. He couldn’t be serious, she thought. Joe knew better than that. “They’re full of diseases. You won’t have any idea what you’re swallowing,” she insisted.
“Yeah, I will,” he said.
Was he just trying to bait her? And then she realized that Joe was walking toward the door. He couldn’t be going out—or could he? “Where are you going?” she wanted to know.
“To my Jeep to get the dinner I was bringing home from Miss Joan’s.”
“You had food all this time and you let me go on about the rodents?” she demanded.
“Never known anyone to be able to stop you once you got wound up,” he pointed out. “I figured I’d just wait it out, like the storm. Be right back,” he told her. He opened the door only as much as he had to in order to slip out.
He heard her muttering a few choice words aimed in his direction before the wind carried them away.
Making his way to the Jeep, Joe smiled to himself. Yup, same old Mona. There was a comfort in that.
Chapter Three
Wind and rain accompanied Joe’s reentry into the cabin several minutes later. Mona was quick to throw her weight against the door in order to shut it again.
“Took you long enough,” she commented, hoping to divert his attention from the fact that she had been right next to the door, waiting for his return. Her concern had nothing to do with hunger. But there was no way she was about to admit that.
“I’ll move faster next time.” Opening his jacket, he took out the prize and placed it on the rickety kitchen table. The next moment, he shed the jacket and spread it out in front of the fireplace. With any luck, it would be dry by morning.
“Any sign of the storm breaking up?” she asked hopefully. She really wanted to be in town before nightfall.
Joe shook his head. “If anything, it’s getting worse,” he told her.
Frowning, Mona glanced at the food he’d braved the elements to bring in.
“This is all that you eat?” she asked incredulously. The only thing on the table was a roast-beef sandwich, perched on a bed of wax paper.
“I wasn’t planning on having to share it with anyone,” Joe said a little defensively.
“Share?” she repeated. “It’s not big enough for one person, let alone two.” The man was six-two with a far better than average build. Didn’t that take some kind of decent fuel to maintain? “Don’t you get hungry?”
Wide, strong shoulders rose and then fell carelessly beneath his deputy’s shirt. The material strained against his biceps.
“Not really,” he answered. “Eating’s never been a big deal for me.”
It wasn’t exactly a new revelation. Thinking back, she knew that no one could ever accuse Joe of consuming too much. He’s always had the build of a rock-hard athlete without so much as an ounce of fat to spare. It was the reason that so many girls drooled over him. Or at least one of the reasons, she amended. The fact that he had brooding good looks didn’t exactly hurt.
Joe didn’t sit down at the table. Instead, he pushed the sandwich toward her. “You can have most of it if you like. I’m not really hungry.”
Well, she was. While tempted to take him at his word, Mona didn’t really believe him. He was just being Joe and that entailed being quietly noble. She wasn’t about to take advantage of that. Hungry or not, it didn’t seem fair. “When did you last eat?” she asked him, repeating the question that Joe had put to her less than a few minutes ago.
He didn’t even bother trying to remember, shrugging off the question. “I don’t know.” He made a vague gesture with his hand. “I don’t live by a clock when it comes to food. I eat when I’m hungry, I don’t when I’m not.”
“We’ll split it,” she declared, her tone saying that she wasn’t about to take no for an answer and she was done discussing it. Gingerly sitting down on one of the two chairs, Mona picked up the half closest to her.
Joe ignored the finality in her tone. “You just said that there wasn’t even enough for one person,” he reminded her. Was he trying to pick a fight? Mona forced a fake smile to her lips. “And now I’m saying that we’re splitting it. Seems to me if you can listen to me say one thing, you can listen to me say the other.”
He laughed shortly and picked up the half closest to him. “It’s been dull without you here.”
She took a bite and savored it before commenting on his statement. Miss Joan’s food was plain, but it could always be counted on to be delicious. “I don’t think my brother would agree, what with finding first a baby, then the baby’s aunt on his doorstep.”
“Technically, the baby’s aunt turned up on the diner’s doorstep,” Joe corrected just before he took his first bite of the sandwich.
Mona looked at him. She’d known that. Rick had given her all the details—after she’d pressed him for them—when he called to tell her he was getting married. For the purpose of narrative, she’d exaggerated. She should have known better around Joe.
“I forgot what a real stickler for details you could be.”
“Gotta pay attention to the facts,” he pointed out mildly. “Without the facts, your story can turn into someone else’s.”
Too tired to unscramble his remark, she took another healthy bite of her half, but needed something to wash it down with.
“You wouldn’t happen to have brought along a beverage with your ‘dinner,’ would you?” she asked.
“I’ve got beer at home,” he told her.
“Doesn’t exactly do us any good here, now does it?”
Setting what was left of her half down on the wax paper, Mona eased herself off the chair, taking care not to make any sudden movements that might cause the legs to separate from the seat.
Meanwhile Joe had made his way over to the sink and slowly turned the faucet. It squealed in protest just before the water emerged. The smell alone was terrible. The color was a close second.
He turned off the faucet. “Well, water’s out unless rust is your favorite flavor.”
Since he was conducting the search, she sank back down on her chair. Her half of the sandwich was disappearing much too quickly, she thought, silently lamenting that he hadn’t brought two.
“I’ll pass.” She watched Joe as he opened and then closed the overhead cabinets. “Anything?”
He
