of a live oak.
Amanda had the day off and she was determined to enjoy it. But, as she wandered through the market, it was clear that the Royal rumor mill was in high gear.
She felt the speculative glances thrown her way as she passed and she lifted her chin defiantly in response. No point in hiding, she told herself. Instead, she would just ignore the fact that whispered conversations would stop when she got close and pick up again as she moved off. Clearly, someone had seen Nathan at her place the other night and it hadn’t taken long for tongues to start wagging.
Amanda stopped at a booth displaying hand-thrown pottery and idly picked up a kiln-fired, sky-blue pitcher.
The artist, a young woman with waist-length blond hair and bright green eyes, smiled at her. “I’m running a special today on the cornflower-blue pottery.”
And if she’d picked up one of the earthenware jugs, Amanda thought, that would have been the special of the day. But she couldn’t blame the woman for doing her best to make a sale. Besides, she was going to be looking for a house in town soon and she’d need to furnish it, wouldn’t she? Smiling, she said, “It’s lovely work. How much?”
“Only thirty-five.”
“Sold,” Amanda told her and set the pitcher down to reach for her wallet. She probably could have haggled, but it was beautiful and she really did want it.
Purchase made, Amanda left a satisfied artist behind her, tucked her new pitcher into the cloth shopping bag slung over her shoulder and wandered off toward the next booth.
“Amanda, hi!” Piper Kindred waved her over with a wide grin. Piper’s curly red hair was drawn back into a ponytail and her green eyes were shining. “Haven’t had a chance to talk to you since you moved back home.”
“I know. Things have been so busy, but we have got to get together soon.” Amanda had known Piper most of her life and seeing her friend now made Amanda realize again how much she’d missed being a part of Royal.
“I hear you and Nathan are getting cozy again …”
“Of course you did,” Amanda said. A few days ago, Nathan had shown up at her apartment and kissed her senseless. Ever since then, she’d had dozens of customers who spent most of their time at the diner watching her. Including Nathan, she reminded herself. He made time to come in at least once a day. He’d order coffee, sit at the counter and watch her as she moved around the room.
Nerve-racking on all fronts.
“Anything you care to share?” Piper teased.
“Not a thing,” Amanda assured her old friend, then abruptly changed the subject. “So,” she asked, stepping back to read the sign strung across the front of the booth Piper was manning, “what’re you selling?”
“Raffle tickets,” Piper told her and used her thumb to fan a stack of them. “We’re raising money to help pay for the new child-care center at the TCC.”
Grinning, Amanda said, “I heard the motion passed. Beau Hacket must have been purple with fury.”
“By all reports,” Piper assured her. Then she sighed. “I only wish I’d seen it myself. You remember Shannon Morrison? She tells me she came within a breath of hogtieing the old coot just for the hell of it.”
Beau was possibly the last living true chauvinist in the world. He liked women fine, as long as they stayed in their “place.” Amanda had never been able to figure out why a woman as nice as his wife, Barbara, had married the man in the first place. “Sorry I missed it.”
“More and more women are becoming members of the TCC now that Abby Price paved the way.” Piper paused. “I’m not a member or anything, but I wanted to help with this raffle. How many tickets are you going to buy?”
Shaking her head, Amanda reached for her wallet and laughed. “Give me five.”
“Atta girl.” Piper peeled off the tickets and waited while Amanda wrote her name and phone number on the stubs. When she was finished, Piper dropped the stubs into a steel box and said, “The draw’s in a week. Who knows? You might win the grand prize.”
“What is it?”
“A weekend getaway in Dallas.” Piper shrugged. “Personally, I’d rather win the free dinner at Claire’s.”
“Hey,” Amanda countered, in a mocking insulted tone, “how about you come eat at the diner instead? We’ve got lemon meringue pie tomorrow.”
“Now you’re talking,” Piper said. “I’ll come in around lunch. Maybe we can sit and talk over pie. You can give me the real story behind the gossip.”
“You’ll be disappointed. There is no story.” Except for that kiss, Amanda thought. She waved a goodbye, then moved on. She was still smiling when she caught the scent of fresh-brewed coffee along with a delectable aroma of cinnamon coming from nearby. Marge Fontenot had probably brought in her homemade cinnamon rolls to sell in the coffee booth her husband ran. Amanda’s stomach growled in anticipation as she headed for the vendor cart with the long line snaking in front of it.
“Doing some shopping?”
She stopped and looked at Alex Santiago as he approached her.
“I am.” As the sun shone down on her, she was grateful she’d tucked her hair into a ponytail that morning. But Alex looked cool and comfortable in khaki slacks and a short-sleeved white shirt. “Living in the city, I really missed farmers’ market days.”
His gaze swept across the crowded park. “I admit, I enjoy them as well. Last week I bought a new pair of boots.…”
She glanced down and nodded in approval at the hand-tooled brown leather boots he wore. “Very nice.”
“Thank you. And just now, I’ve purchased what I am told is the—” he paused to reach into a paper bag and draw out a jar long enough to read the label “—world’s best huckleberry jam.” He shrugged and gave her a smile that could probably melt ice at a hundred yards.
Amanda just chuckled. “If you bought that jam from Kaye Cannarozzi, I guarantee it is the world’s best. She’s won prizes for her jam every year at the state fair.”
“Good to know,” he said and folded up the bag again. “You can find just about anything here, I’ve discovered.”
Amanda watched him as he looked around the park. He was dark and gorgeous and his accent made every word sound like seduction. Alex was also nice, funny and, except for his dubious taste in friends—Nathan for example—he was pretty much perfect. Too bad for Amanda that the only bell he rung for her was one of friendship.
“Hmm,” Alex mused. “I’m curious as to what put a frown on your face just then. Dark thoughts?”
She forced a smile and shook her head. “Not at all. Um, I’m headed for the coffee wagon over there.” She pointed and asked, “Would you like to join me?”
“I could use some coffee as well, so, yes.” He fell into step beside her. “I’m looking forward to the Fourth of July celebration. I hear it’s quite the event.”
