wanted him to kiss her, but she wasn’t sure exactly how to make it seem as if it was his idea. “I—I’m fine,” she said, taking another sip of water. “I think we should go.”
“Lead on,” Jack said.
Mia walked toward the door, but she was sorely tempted to turn around and walk into the bedroom, just to see what he’d do. If she’d thought he’d follow her, Mia might have tried it.
“YOU HAVE TO TRY the fish tacos,” Mia said, jumping out of the Mini Cooper and slamming the door behind her. Jack crawled out of the car and followed her up to the window of the roadside taco stand.
He stared up at the menu, working his way through the extensive list of choices. After finding their parents engrossed in a study of an old picture album, Jack and Mia had hopped into her car and driven toward the coast. They’d pulled off the highway about fifteen minutes later at a small wooden shack with picnic tables gathered around it.
“I’ve never had a fish taco,” Jack said.
“Don’t they have them in Chicago?”
“We’re kind of hot dog and pizza people there,” Jack explained. “Although it’s a great city for food, so I’m sure there are plenty of places to go for fish tacos. I’ve just never had one.”
“Well, Manny’s is the best,” she said. “It’s been around forever. My girlfriends and I used to come here when we were in high school, looking to meet boys. Lots of surfers used to hang out here. Blond, tan, smelling like the ocean.”
She ordered a basket of four fish tacos and a couple of beers. When the server handed her a tray, she turned and headed toward one of the picnic tables.
The songs had always touted the superiority of California girls, but Jack had never really seen the attraction. But here, beneath the late-afternoon sun, with a warm breeze blowing off the ocean, he couldn’t recall ever meeting a woman more captivating than Mia McMahon.
She grabbed a taco from the basket and bit into it. Jack followed suit and when the mix of fish and fresh tomato and avocado and cheese all melded in his mouth, he groaned softly.
“Good, right?”
“Wow. Really not what I expected,” he said.
“I know.” She grinned. “So tell me why you decided to come to California with your mother. Don’t you have a job? Or are you a professional mama’s boy?”
Jack chuckled. “I wasn’t completely convinced that your father wasn’t some kind of letch just looking for a little action from a sweet and trusting woman, so I decided to come along and check him out personally. And yes, I do have a job. I’m a sports writer. What do you do? Let me guess. You’re either a professional houseguest insulter or a roadside restaurant critic?”
“I’m a graphic designer. I have my own studio. We do a lot of work for restaurants and hotels in the Bay area. Menus, signs, point of sale displays. I designed the sign right over there for Manny.”
Jack glanced over his shoulder. “The dancing tacos?”
“They’re not dancing, they’re hitchhiking,” she said. “This is a roadside taco stand. They want a ride.” Mia frowned. “I guess it does look like they’re dancing.”
God, she was adorable, Jack mused. Everything she said was endlessly fascinating, even when it didn’t make sense. He took another bite. “I’ve never seen tacos with legs and arms…and faces, but they look good. You’re good.”
That brought a laugh. “And you’re not a very good liar,” she countered. “Don’t you think this whole thing is kind of strange?”
“Hitchhiking tacos?”
“No, my dad and your mom. It’s kind of unexpected.”
He drew a deep breath and nodded. “My dad died twenty-two years ago. I was nine. And since then, Mom’s never shown the slightest bit of interest in dating. But she and your dad are old friends. Their families used to spend summers together. It’s just a chance to revisit the past.”
“My father told me, about a year ago, that he could never see himself with another woman. That my mom was his one true love. I believed him.”
“They’re looking for companionship,” Jack said. “Isn’t that what people their age want? I can’t imagine they’re in it for the sex.”
She clapped her hands over her ears. “Stop. I don’t want to listen to that.”
Jack reached out and pulled her hands away. “At one time they were our age,” he said. “I’m sure there were times when they felt that kind of gut-deep attraction for someone. You know, when you feel like you can’t breathe and your head gets all fuzzy?” He was very familiar with that feeling, since it had happened to him the moment he’d first seen Mia.
She forced a smile. “Yeah, I know.” Mia reached for her beer and took a long sip. “So do you really think that all stops at fifty?”
He shook his head. “No. But then, I’m a guy. I can’t believe it’s ever going to stop. I’d like to think I’ll be interested in sex until I’m at least eighty or ninety years old. What about you?”
“I can’t imagine my father having thoughts like that,” Mia murmured.
“I wouldn’t worry about it. My mother is very comfortable in Chicago and your father is comfortable here. When you get to be that age, you just don’t turn your life upside down and move away from the only home you’ve known for the past thirty years.”
She finished her taco and nodded. “We shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves. But we should be prepared to discourage a romance.” Mia sighed softly. “It would just be so awkward. The holidays would be the worst. Having a stranger there, in place of my mother. It wouldn’t feel right.”
“Who says she’d want to spend the holidays here? She’s always spent Christmas in Chicago with our family.”
“See, that’s what this leads to. It would be a nightmare. I’m glad we agree that there should be no romance. If it looks like it’s getting too hot and heavy, we’re going to have to step in.”
“Now I’m starting to feel like the parent,” Jack said.
“It’s what happens. My father only dated one woman in his entire life. He’s not ready for romance.”
They finished their tacos and beers, then carried their tray back to the window. Jack walked to the driver’s side of the car and reached for the door, but Mia suddenly turned around to face him. “But what if there is an attraction?” she murmured, her gaze fixed on his. “And what if they act on it?”
He stared down at her. They were standing so close he could smell the scent of her perfume, could feel the heat from her body. Jack clenched his hands into fists to keep himself from reaching out and touching her. The breeze toyed with a strand of her hair and he imagined how it might feel between his fingers.
“I suppose we’ll deal with that when it happens,” he said softly.
Jack leaned in slightly, testing, searching
