come up with was that he unsettled her.
“Maggie?”
“Hmm?” She looked at Lucy. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I’m making you a wrap.” Her partner automatically looked over when the door opened and Sloan walked in. She made a purring sound and said, “Right after I have that man’s baby. Holy Toledo, he’s a fifteen on a scale of one to ten.”
“And he’s my newest boarder.”
“Sloan Holden?” Lucy lowered her voice but turned her back on the newcomer just to make sure he didn’t hear.
“That’s him,” she confirmed.
“You have to introduce me.”
“Of course,” Maggie said, then the two of them walked over to where he stood by the sign that politely asked customers to wait to be seated. “Hi.”
“Maggie.” His gaze slid to her partner. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about the food here and decided to see for myself if the rumors are true.”
“They’re true,” Maggie confirmed. “And that is all due to the culinary skills of my business partner. Sloan Holden, this is Lucy Bishop.”
“Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.
Lucy shook it. “The pleasure is all mine. Isn’t it a little late for lunch? Or is this an early dinner?”
“Lunch. I lost track of time.”
“I always say it takes a special kind of stupid to forget to eat.”
Maggie watched Lucy give him the smile that had made many a man putty in her hands, but Sloan didn’t bat an eye.
“Then, label me a moron because that’s the best excuse I can come up with,” he said.
“You’re in good company.” Lucy met her gaze. “Maggie just surfaced, too, and realized she hadn’t eaten.”
“Then, you should keep me company. I hate to eat alone,” he said. “And we dim-witted workaholics should stick together.”
“Thanks,” she said, “but I’m just going to take something back to my desk.”
“I don’t recommend that.” He raised an eyebrow. “A break from work is food for the soul. That’s just as important as nutrition for the body.”
There was no graceful way out of this, so she was better off just sucking it up. “You’re right. Let’s sit over there.”
The place was empty of customers at the moment and Maggie pointed to a table in a far corner that wasn’t visible through the front window. She grabbed a couple of menus and followed him. He was wearing dark slacks and a pale yellow dress shirt, different from the one her daughter had streaked banana on early this morning.
She was very proud of the way the café had turned out. The interior was decorated in fall colors—orange, gold, green and brown. The walls had country touches: an old washboard, shelves with metal pitchers and pictures of fruit and vegetables. It was cozy and comfortable. But probably light-years from the places Sloan went to.
They sat at a small round table covered by a leaf-print tablecloth. Two sets of utensils wrapped in ginger-colored napkins rested on either side.
After looking over the choices, he met her gaze. “What do you recommend?”
“Everything.” She smiled. “Obviously I’m prejudiced, but even the vegetarian selections are yummy. But my favorite is the chicken wrap. Lucy makes a dressing that is truly unbelievably good.”
“Sold,” he said.
When Lucy came over, they both ordered it and she promised to bring them out in a few minutes.
Maggie was watching Sloan’s face when Lucy walked away and saw the barest flicker of male appreciation. She felt a flicker of something herself and wasn’t sure what to call it. Envy? A visceral response? Whatever the label, she didn’t especially like the feeling and wanted to counteract it.
“She’s really pretty, isn’t she?”
Sloan met her gaze. “Yes, she is.”
“This small town is probably very different from what you’re used to.” Maggie knew that for a fact just from reading tabloid stories about him. “It can be lonely.”
“There’s lots of work to keep me busy.”
“I heard somewhere that breaks from work are food for the soul as important as nutrition for the body.”
His expression was wry. “Remind me to be careful what I say to you.”
“My point is—and I do have one—you should ask Lucy out,” she said.
“Oh?” There was curiosity in his expression, but he also looked amused.
“Yes. She’s beautiful and smart. Not to mention an awesome cook.”
“Until our food arrives, I’ll have to take your word on her culinary ability. And we barely spoke, so it was hard to tell whether or not she’s smart. But she is very pretty.”
“So ask her out.” The little bit Lucy had said was a big clue that she wouldn’t say no. Maggie unrolled the silverware from her napkin and set it on the table.
“Why should I?” he asked.
“She’s single. And so are you.” She settled the cloth napkin in her lap. “Unless you’re dating someone.”
“I’m not.” He met her gaze. “But it’s a well-documented fact that I’m a confirmed bachelor.”
“I have read that you have a reputation for quantity over commitment. But Lucy isn’t looking for Mr. Right.”
“Any particular reason?”
Yes, but Maggie had no intention of saying anything about that to Sloan, mostly because she didn’t know why. Instead, she countered, “Any particular reason you won’t commit?”
For the first time since he’d walked into the café the amiable and amused expression on his face cracked slightly. She’d struck a nerve, and that was annoying because she hadn’t thought he had any.
“Why does any man resist committing?” he said, not really answering.
“Good question. Color me curious. And all the more determined to convince you to ask Lucy out on a date.”
“For the life of me, I can’t figure out what your stake is in my personal life.”
“That’s because you don’t understand the fundamental dynamics of female friendship.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Communication and sharing,” she said.
