Her Kind of Man. Debbie Macomber
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“Hi,” he said casually, leaning against the counter.
“Can I help you?” Shana pretended not to remember him, which was the exact opposite of the way she treated her other customers. She worked hard at remembering people’s names and creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. She knew his, too—Tim—but refused to acknowledge it.
“I was wondering if you’d be interested in dinner and a movie.”
His invitation took her completely off guard. “I—I beg your pardon?”
“I…well, actually, I was asking you out on a date.” His voice was a monotone now, as if she’d deflated his ego, and Shana instantly felt bad.
“I’m flattered, but—”
“Your niece mentioned that you’re single, and well, so am I and I was wondering, you know, if you’d like to go out sometime.”
Shana wasn’t sure what to say. She hesitated, and then decided she could only be honest. “Thank you. I’m flattered that you’d ask, but I just don’t have time to date right now.” She motioned around her. “This is a new venture for me and I…have to be here.”
He frowned. “Is there any particular reason you don’t want to go out with me?”
A couple of dozen quickly presented themselves but Shana couldn’t manage to get out a single one. “You seem very nice, but—”
“It’s the kids, isn’t it?”
“No, not at all,” she hurried to assure him. “It’s like I told you—the timing is wrong.” That was the excuse she’d used with Adam; it was also the truth. She’d untangled herself from one relationship and wasn’t ready to get involved in another.
“You mean I should’ve waited until you were finished for the day?”
“No…”
He wiped his face. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’m new at this. My wife, I mean ex-wife, and I met in high school and well, it just didn’t work out. I don’t blame her. We were both too young, but Heather’s the only woman I’ve ever dated and—I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” He looked completely crestfallen by the time he’d finished.
Shana felt even worse. “Under other circumstances, I’d be happy to—” She stopped, afraid she’d just make matters worse if she continued. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
He nodded and sat down on the stool. “That would be great, thanks.”
“It’s Tim, right?”
He smiled dejectedly. “I’m surprised you remember.”
He’d be shocked at everything she did recall about the last time he’d been in the ice-cream parlor—even if she preferred not to.
Shana made them each an espresso, double shot. If he didn’t need it she did. When she set the tiny cups on the counter, Tim reached for his wallet. Raising her hand, she said, “It’s on the house.”
“Thanks.”
She waved off his gratitude. For reasons she didn’t want to examine too closely, she felt guiltier than ever for rejecting him.
“Can you tell me what I did wrong?” he asked after the first tentative sip.
“It isn’t you,” she said earnestly. “It really is because of the timing. My new business and looking after my niece and everything.”
Over the next three hours, she heard the story of Tim’s ten-year marriage and every detail of his divorce. The only time he paused was when she was bombarded with questions from customers or staff, or if the capable Catherine needed her assistance.
She also learned practically the entire story of Tim’s life. He seemed to need a willing ear and she provided it, between serving ice cream in three dozen different flavors.
“You know, Tim, it seems to me you’re still in love with your wife,” she commented while he was on his third espresso.
His eyes flared and he adamantly shook his head.
“No way.”
“Sorry, but that’s how I see it.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Could be, but it’s obvious you’re crazy about your kids.”
He had no argument with that. “They’re fabulous.”
“So—what else can I do for you?” she asked when he showed no sign of leaving anytime within the foreseeable future.
“You could always go to dinner with me,” he suggested.
Shana laughed, knowing she’d be in for a repeat of his disagreement with the divorce attorney. She gave him an A for effort, though. “I thought we already went over that.”
“Are you sure you mean no?” he asked again.
“If the lady says no, that’s what she means,” Adam Kennedy said from the doorway leading into the restaurant. He glared at Tim as if he wanted to teach him a lesson. His tone was friendly enough, but his demeanor wasn’t. Shana sighed in exasperation. She was all too aware of the interest Catherine and the others were taking in this little scene. Tim was harmless, his self-esteem in shreds following his divorce, and he was counting on Shana to boost his confidence.
“Thank you very much, Adam,” she said tightly, fighting the temptation to say a great deal more, “but the lady can answer for herself.”
To her surprise Jazmine laughed outright. “Hello, Mr. Gilmore, remember me?”
Tim looked as if he didn’t know what to say. He got off the stool. “I guess it’s time to go.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Adam murmured.
“Adam,” Shana chastised, but his gaze didn’t waver from Tim’s face.
As soon as the other man was out the door, Shana whirled on Adam. “That was completely unnecessary and uncalled for,” she said, trying to keep her voice down in deference to her staff and customers.
Adam looked away. “Perhaps, but I wanted to be sure he got the message.”
“And what exactly is the message?” Shana demanded.
Adam grinned as if the answer should be obvious.
“Hands off,” Jazmine supplied. “You’re already spoken for.”
With her shift over, Ali went to check