Two
Ethan Barringer was on top of the world. After months of late nights, endless negotiations and an almost unbearable workload, his drive and focus had finally paid off big-time. Perry Construction had won the bid to renovate the building that would become a brand-new Cattleman’s Club in Houston, Texas. Although seventy-year-old Sterling Perry owned the company—and would likely claim all the credit for the coup—Ethan, Sterling’s CEO, basked in the satisfaction of knowing he himself had made it happen.
He rolled a chilled bottle of beer between his fingertips, his right knee bouncing restlessly beneath the table. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. The irony didn’t escape him. If there was ever a time for celebration, this was it. But he had neglected his social life so completely during the last few months that there was no one on hand to raise a glass with him tonight.
He had come to the Royal Diner because it was a comfortable hangout, and because no one would remark on a man dining alone. After polishing off a huge, medium-rare sirloin with all the trimmings and a decadent piece of homemade lemon icebox pie, he was now faced with the prospect of a long, empty evening ahead of him.
Tomorrow he would fly to Houston and wouldn’t be back for at least six weeks. Though he kept a secondary residence here in Royal, his home and office were in Houston. He tended to bounce back and forth between the big city and the small town of his birth. Each had its own charm.
He loved the anonymity of the always-busy metropolis. But nothing could replace the feeling of belonging he experienced whenever his work brought him back to Royal.
Suddenly, the diner door blew open. Someone had tried to come inside, but a gust of mid-January wind practically jerked the plate glass from its hinges. Amid a flurry of chilled air and feminine pique, the diner’s latest customer finally appeared. She leaned against the entrance and smoothed her hair.
Amanda Battle, the sheriff’s wife who owned the diner, lifted a hand and smiled. “Hey, Aria. Sorry about that. You look frozen to the bone. If you’re not meeting anyone, come sit at the counter and talk to me.”
Though the new arrival didn’t glance in Ethan’s direction, he recognized her immediately. Aria Jensen. Five feet four inches tall. Eyes as blue as the wide Texas skies. Long wavy blond hair that was decidedly tousled at the moment. And enough curves to make a guy sit up and take notice.
His groin tightened. All work and no play made a man hungry. And not just for Amanda Battle’s incredible desserts.
Ethan eavesdropped unashamedly.
Amanda brought Aria a cup of coffee and a list of the day’s specials. “What brings you out on such a nasty evening?”
“Starvation, mainly.” The younger woman shed her coat with a grin and draped it across the red faux-leather stool beside her. The 1950s-themed eatery had booths that matched the stools, and a black-and-white checkerboard linoleum floor. Though the clock over the soda fountain said it was only six thirty, the diner was on the empty side tonight. Most people were probably hunkered down at home. Winters in Royal, Texas, weren’t usually too bad, but this week’s weather had been blustery and cold.
Amanda nodded. “I understand. At the end of a long workday, no woman I know wants to cook. I’m glad you stopped by.”
Aria sipped her coffee and pointed at the menu. “I’ll take a number three. I need comfort food.”
Ethan glanced at the small bundle of menus tucked behind the sugar canister on his table. Aria had ordered a grilled cheese with vegetable soup. Not much had changed over the years.
Following an impulse that drove him to his feet, he crossed the small room and tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey, stranger. I’ve finished eating, but I could use some company. You want to join me?”
The stool turned. Big, long-lashed eyes looked up at him. “Ethan. How nice to see you.”
The words were cordial enough, but her expression was guarded. He and Aria had known each other since they were in grade school. Her visible hesitation nicked his pride. They had grown apart in recent years.
Again, he issued the invitation, although this time he didn’t touch her. Something about her cool manner told him to keep his hands to himself. “Come sit with me,” he cajoled. “We can catch up.”
Amanda unwittingly aided his cause. “Go ahead,” she said. “I’ll bring the food to you over there when it’s ready. It’s not like I’m being run off my feet tonight.”
Aria smiled at the diner owner. “Thanks.” She scooped up her coat and purse and followed Ethan to his booth. Her cheeks were pink. The color could be a reaction to the warmth
