What did a person wear to sign her life away? Jenni Beth wondered as she rifled through her closet. She shouldn’t be this nervous. Richard had already told her she had the loan. Problem was he hadn’t approved the full amount.
Why was he being such a tightwad?
Argh! She should have saved more, been more careful with her money in Savannah. She could have eaten at home more, could have stopped at Starbucks less often. Waited for movies to come out on DVD instead of hitting the theater to see them with her friends.
And, she admitted, even with all that she’d still have needed this loan.
She hadn’t slept well, had woken periodically to stare at the ceiling, worries chasing around her mind. Because of that, she needed something vibrant for this morning. Something that would give her some color. More confidence.
Her fingers stalled at an aqua skirt and jacket. Nope. No more suits. Misty Bottoms, even in late March, was way too warm. She’d keep a few to wear at client meetings, but maybe she could sell the rest at the new consignment shop on Market Street.
And this wasn’t resolving her dilemma.
Her fingers landed on a fun sundress in black with splashes of orange, blue, and yellow. Its flirty little skirt, along with her orange short-sleeve cardigan, would send a casual, you-can’t-keep-me-down message. Perfect. Problem solved.
Standing at the kitchen counter, too wired to sit, she wolfed down a cup of coffee and a piece of toast. If she ate more, her nervous stomach might rebel.
“You’ll do fine, honey.” Charlotte patted her cheek, the way she had when Jenni Beth was ten and worried about a spelling test.
“Thanks, Charlotte. I’m trying my best.”
“I know you are. And your mama and daddy are real proud of you.”
“Are they both still sleeping?”
“Your mama is, but your daddy went into town to have breakfast with some of his friends. Now quit frettin’.”
“I’ll give it my best shot. Maybe I’ll run into Daddy when I’m done.” She picked up her purse, gave Charlotte a hug, and headed into the already humid morning. The bank didn’t open till nine, but come hell or high water, she’d be Richard’s first customer today. No more time in those uncomfortable chairs than necessary.
Had her great-great-granddaddy Beaumont felt like this when he’d faced Sherman? A skirmish was a given. The only two things in question—which side would be victorious and how bad would the casualties be?
One quick look in her rearview mirror showed she at least still had some lipstick on. No sense going into battle completely unarmed. She put the ’Vette in gear and headed out to face down her enemy.
Because of her lead foot, the drive didn’t take nearly long enough. The bank wasn’t open yet. Pulling out her little spiral notepad, she jotted down items on her must-do list. Fifteen minutes later, she tucked it into her purse, checked her hair, and sailed through the front doors of the bank.
“Morning, Gloria. Richard in yet?”
“He sure is.” She picked up a file from her desk. “I’ve got all your paperwork right here. Why don’t you come with me?”
“Thanks.” She followed in Gloria’s wake, picked up the scent of musk and vanilla. Gloria had worked for Richard as long as she could remember. Jenni Beth wondered if she liked her job, if working for the jerk made her happy.
Well, not her concern, she supposed.
Gloria knocked on the doorjamb before she peeked her head into Richard’s office. “Jenni Beth’s here. I have the file.”
Not wanting to get stuck outside cooling her heels, Jenni Beth squeezed past Gloria and walked right in, uninvited.
Richard, ensconced in his big leather chair, a cup of coffee steaming on his desk, looked up in surprise.
He pointed at his coffee. “Want a cup?”
“No, thanks, I had some at home.”
He took the paperwork from Gloria and nodded. Apparently that was her unspoken signal to leave because, with a smile toward Jenni Beth, she backed out of the door and closed it behind her.
Richard opened the file and flipped through the papers as if seeing them for the first time. He took his time, made no attempt to hurry. In fact, he acted as though he didn’t even remember she sat there.
But he did, and she knew it. All part of his game. She disliked Richard Thorndike more with every tick of the second hand. A playground bully in an adult setting.
Covertly, she wiped her palms on the skirt of her sundress. “Is everything in order?”
“Oh yes. It is.” He straightened the papers. “I’m afraid, though, that rather than the full two hundred fifty thousand you requested, you only qualified for two hundred thousand. Not that big a difference, really.”
He had the gall to send her a condescending smile.
Her stomach clenched. Fifty thousand less? Not a big difference? Get real! It was huge! A fifth less!
She stirred uneasily in the chair.
Even with her collateral, the bank wouldn’t loan her the full amount? Come on! The land was worth double the amount she needed.
She paused, forced herself to think before she responded. Cole’s odd statement from yesterday replayed in her head. He’d been dead-on right. Richard was already squeezing her. He had his fingers on her pulse. Worse. Had them on her purse. And he’d decided to pull the strings tightly enough to choke her.
Well, he could think again. She refused to play his game of chicken.
Her grandfather wouldn’t have stood for this, and neither would she.
“Two hundred thousand won’t work, Richard. At two-fifty, I’ve cut my budget to bare bones, and you know it.” She leaned back in her chair, forced herself to relax.
“You, of all people, know what a huge job I’m tackling. In order to pull it off, I need the full loan. Nothing less.” She met his gaze levelly. “You wouldn’t try to sabotage me, would you? To take my land? We both know it’s extremely valuable, and it seems others do, too. The property on both sides of mine has been sold and marked with ‘no trespassing’ signs. Did you know that?”
He hesitated, ever so slightly, and she understood. Cole had been right. Richard Thorndike wanted what was hers. But how had Cole known? A good guess? Hmmm.
Richard’s face reddened. “I hope you’re not implying—”
“Oh, but I am.” Heart in her throat, she said, “I’m afraid the loan has to be for the entire amount.”
When he still hesitated, she picked up her purse from his desk and stood. “I’ll take my business to Savannah.”
“Sit down,” he said. “Fine. I’ll clear the check for the entire amount, but my bosses aren’t going to be very happy with me.”
Hah! she thought. Who was the poker player extraordinaire now? The bluff had worked.
Struggling to keep her expression bland, she settled back on her chair and laid her purse in her lap. “Thank you.”
Oh, she wanted to say so much more. Really rip into him. Bottom line? She had to have the money. Period. So she bit her tongue till it bled.
She understood, too, that she had to make the business a success. Because if she didn’t, Richard would swoop down faster than a Yankee carpetbagger to take her home from her.
There’d be no negotiations.
Her father had already left Dee-Ann’s when Jenni Beth stopped in, so she ordered a sweet tea to go and headed home.
Halfway down the lane to her house, she hit the brakes, flabbergasted. Three men worked at the side of her house with saws and nail guns.
Slowly, she drove the rest of the way and stared at Beck, who walked over to meet her, his tool belt riding low.
“Beck, why are you here? I don’t—”
“You’re welcome, Jenni Beth, one friend to another.”
Getting out of the car, she wrapped her arms around him, overwhelmed by his generosity. He smelled of heat, sawdust, and man. “I love you.”
“I know you do, and I love you right back.” He drew away and swiped a finger down her nose. “Charlotte said you were in town. With Richard.”
“Yes. It’s done.” She met Beck’s gaze. “The dirty vulture actually tried to short me. He wanted to cut the loan by fifty thousand.”
“That would have made it pretty tough, wouldn’t it?”
“Impossible. I told him I couldn’t do the renovations with that amount. That I needed the full loan. I said I thought he was trying to make certain I failed.” Her chin came up, and she took a deep breath, still wondering where she’d found the nerve to confront Richard.
“You honestly think he’d do that?”
She debated with herself, took another fortifying breath. This was Beck. He deserved to know what he was getting into if he decided to help. “Yes. He wants my bottomland, wants to collect on my collateral.”
Jenni Beth watched her friend closely. His reaction wasn’t quite what she’d anticipated. She’d expected consternation, maybe distress. Instead, she saw previous knowledge.
“But you’d already guessed that, hadn’t you?”
This big strong guy actually squirmed in front of her, and she was torn between anger and resigned laughter. Again, small towns equaled no secrets. She might need to have that equation tattooed on her forehead where she could see it every time she looked in a mirror.
“Cole told you.”
“Jenni Beth—”
She held up a hand. “No. Don’t lie, and don’t make any excuses. I should have known.”
“He’s watchin’ out for you.”
“Understood. But I’ve been taking care of myself for quite a while now. It’ll take a bit before I get back into the small town swing of things where everybody knows everybody else’s business. Y’all need to cut me a break. Give me some space while I adapt.”
His expression turned indignant, and she hurried on, upset that she’d hurt his feelings. “There’s nothing wrong with helping each other, with watching out for friends and family. I’ve just forgotten how tight the network is. I’m good with it, though.” She squelched the urge to cross her fingers behind her back. “I swear to God, Beck, Richard Thorndike will not get my house or my land. I fully intend to make this work.”
Relief smoothed out the lines on her friend’s face. “Did he back down on the money?”
“He did.” She sent him a half-smile. “I got the full amount. Begrudgingly, but I got it. Which means he had authorization for it all along, and that makes me sad.” She rubbed at the ache in her chest. “I thought he was a friend.”
“It’s business, Jenni Beth.”
“Understood. But business should be carried out with integrity. When you stuff your morals in your back pocket and forget about them, you’ve sold your soul.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He gave her shoulder a pat, then stepped away. “Well, then, by damn, we’ll have to work that much harder to make sure he doesn’t get what he wants.”
“Yes, we will.” Determination flooded her, nearly choked her. “I need to draw up a budget, a really tight budget. Prioritize where the money goes.”
“You do, yes. Cole can probably give you a hand with that. Or I can.”
“I can manage it, but I might need some help figuring material and labor cost.”
“I’m here. Any time. Call, text, or email. Or stop in—whether I’m in the office, out on a job site, or at home. Whatever works.”
“Thanks.”
He pulled a hammer from that low-riding tool belt. “I can work today, but after that I’m gonna have to move to another job I’ve got under way. The plasterers will be here tomorrow, along with a couple guys to start the actual carpentry work.” He tipped his head. “I told them you’d pay their going rate. Hope that’s okay.”
“That’s good. Thank you so much.”
“No thanks needed. My morals are right here in my shirt pocket where I can get at them any time I need to.”
She grinned. “You’re a good man.”
“Some people would agree with that, some wouldn’t.” He tapped the hammerhead lightly on his palm.
Jenni Beth knew he meant Tansy Calhoun and that slick talker she’d met in college.
“Beck…”
“Nah. Let’s not get into any of that. Some things are best left buried like an old stew bone.” He took her by the hand and led her to the side of the house. “Watch where you step. There’s gonna be nails and scrap out here for a while. It might be best if you and your mama wore something other than those cute little sandals for now.”
“Okay.”
“Wanted to show you what we’re doin’ here. You’ve got an almost new roof, which is a real blessing.”
“Wes had that done before he shipped out.”
“I remember.” He squeezed her hand. “That will save you a bundle of money. We’ve redone the porch floor and braced up those posts. Cole said he’d take care of replacing them.”
“He did, did he?”
“Yeah, he did.” Beck studied her. “You know, I’m not sure exactly where you two buried that hatchet in each other, but it’s time you pulled it out and stuck it somewhere else. It’s not doin’ either one of you any good.”
Jenni Beth swiped one of those sandals he’d warned her about over the mashed-down grass. “I know.”
She thought of last night, the peace of sitting with him in the dark. How good it had felt to rest her head on his shoulder. “We’re working on it.”
“Good. Now…” He pointed to the house, one arm slung around her shoulder. “The siding’s a mammoth job on a house this size. We’re removing the pieces that are absolutely no good, sanding others, doing some patchin’. When we finish that, we can slap a fresh coat of paint on this baby, and from the outside at least, it’ll look real good.”
“Kind of like a movie facade?”
He laughed. “A little, I guess. But we’ll get the rest pulled together, too. The electricity and plumbing are both in good shape. I had a couple of my guys check those first thing.”
“Again, my thanks.”
“None needed. I should have been out here before, takin’ care of all this. I promised Wes…”
The tension poured off him and slapped at her. A reminder she wasn’t the only one mourning her brother.
“We all did. And we all fell asleep on the job,” she said. “You’re here now, and I, for one, am eternally grateful.” She switched gears. “Anyway, the deed’s done, the papers signed. I have my money, but I’ll have to be frugal. Decide where every penny will do the most good.”
“I’ll help however I can.”
“You do know, despite your promise to my brother, this truly isn’t your responsibility.”
“Hey, what am I missin’?” Cole came around the building, took in the two, Beck’s arm hugging Jenni Beth to his side.
She stepped aside guiltily, then swore under her breath. “I thought you’d left for Savannah.”
“Mickey has things under control at the shop, so I decided to stay one more day. I was out back workin’ on the siding. You get your bankin’ done?”
“I did.”
“He didn’t shortchange you, did he?”
“Despite giving it his best college try, no. I’ve already deposited a check for the full amount in my account.”
“What’re your plans now?”
“As in right now, today?”
He nodded.
“Um, I intended to ask Beck if he’d give me a minute to change, then have him look at the carriage house with me. See if he thinks I can turn it into my client meeting room for under five thousand.” She pulled her hair up and away from her face before letting it drop again. Was it the weather or Cole that spiked her hot-o-meter? “That seems like a lot when I have so many other places to put the money, but first impressions are crucial. Since that’s where I’ll meet prospective brides, grooms, and soon-to-be mothers-in-law for the first time, it’s essential the carriage house speak well of Magnolia Brides.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Cole said. “And although I really hate to see you lose that short little dress, sugar, you’re right. You do need to change. Pick out something a little more suitable for a motorcycle ride.”
“What?” Confused, she faced Cole. “I can’t ask these guys to work while I take off with you.”
“Sure you can. First of all, you’re payin’ them to do a job. They’ll put in the time, do good work for you, and you’ll cut them a check. Second, this isn’t a frivolous playtime ride. We’re goin’ over to a little salvage place west of here. I found some columns that are perfect for the front of the house. I want you to look at them, give them your stamp of approval.”
“Oh. Okay.” Still, she stood in place and looked at Beck. Excitement at the idea of finding replacement columns warred with her work ethics.
“Do it,” he said. “The sooner those go up, the sooner we can get some paint on this place.”
She nodded. “That would be good. I need some pictures, and even with a lens filter, I can’t hide the peeling paint.”
“While you’re gone,” Beck said, “I’ll poke around your carriage house. I’ve got a pretty good idea what you want to do out there, so by the time you get back, I’ll have a cost estimate drawn up.”
* * *
Cole watched as she picked her way around the construction and crew. She disappeared inside, and he turned to find Beck studying him.
“What?”
“Exactly my question, pal.”
Cole frowned.
“I asked at the pub, but I don’t think I got the right answer. Let’s try it again. What’s up with you and Jenni Beth?”
Startled, Cole said, “I told you. Nothin’.”
“Bull! I see the way you look at her.”
“What are you talkin’ about?”
Beck jabbed his friend’s arm. “That innocent face might fool some. Not me. I might not have that fancy college diploma framed on my wall, but I’ve known you too long, Bryson. A starvin’ man, when a big, juicy burger’s set down in front of him, wears the same expression you do when Jenni Beth shows up. That one that crosses his face right before he devours the burger.”
“You’re crazy, Beck.”
“I don’t think so.” He leaned against the side of the house, arms crossed. “What are your plans for today?”
“Like I said, I found some columns for the porch. I want Jenni Beth to see them before I buy them and trailer them here, though. It’s her house, her decision.”
Beck threw an arm around Cole’s shoulders. “Friend, you are in so much trouble. I almost feel sorry for you.”
* * *
Half an hour later, Jenni Beth closed the door on the carriage house. Despite Cole’s impatience, she’d insisted on walking Beck through it. She shared her ideas for the transformation from a mostly unused storage area to an office where she could meet clients and plan weddings. Could see, so clearly, the finished space…and she was in love with it!
Now, dressed in jeans and a red and white University of Georgia T-shirt, she hopped on the Harley behind Cole. On so many levels and for so many reasons, this was a bad idea. But he’d been on his best behavior today. Had helped so much. She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around those washboard abs. A girl could have an orgasm right here and now, she thought, because on top of everything else, the man, as always, smelled heavenly. His body? Hard and hot.
He glanced at her in his rearview mirror and grinned wickedly. He switched on the key, pressed a button, and the motor roared to life. With a twist of his right wrist, he gunned the engine and had the machine thrumming under them.
Oh yeah, he knew how affected she was, and he was enjoying this. Well, let him, because she was, too. Her grin exploded. Another minute and they turned onto the main road, the warm wind caressing her body.
She’d forgotten all this. Had gotten so caught up in city life, in trying to outdo herself with every assignment, in just day-to-day living, that she’d forgotten how much fun the simple things were.
Did she need to go back later and scrape paint? Yep, till her hands bled, but right now? She’d enjoy the moment, the freedom.
The big bike ate up the highway. Cole handled the Harley with ease. She leaned with him into the corners, smiled as they accelerated on the straight stretches, and turned her face skyward as the sun beat down on them.
The miles flew by too quickly and, way before she was ready, Cole turned off the main road and onto a smaller one.
Random Salvage. The building stood a couple hundred yards off the road, shielded by a copse of hardwoods. A ramshackle metal structure, it looked ready to fall down.
But even before she got off the bike, excitement raced through her. All kinds of goodies crammed the windows and spilled across the parking lot and around the side to the back. Jenni Beth could hardly wait to start poking through the junk to find the buried treasures.
Cole set the kickstand and she removed her helmet. He hopped off, reached for her hand, and helped her dismount.
She laughed. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked.
“For reminding me what beautiful spring days are for.”
He took off his dark glasses and perched them on his head. A grin spread slowly over his face. “You’re more than welcome.”
As they started across the unpaved parking lot, he warned, “We’re here to look at columns for the front of your house.”
“I know, but, wow! I need a chandelier for my new office. I’ll bet he has something here.”
“I’ll bet I have a nicer one in Savannah. When you come visit, we’ll choose one.”
“But, Cole—”
“Nope. Columns only today.”
When he opened the door, she had to bite her tongue not to beg for more. She stood just inside for a minute, taking it all in. “This is a salvage yard?” she whispered.
“Yep.”
“And yours is like this?”
“Bigger, but basically, yeah.”
“Maybe I owe you an apology, Cole. Sort of.”
He laughed. “Sort of?”
“Well, yes.” Thoughtfully, she pulled the band from her hair. “I had no idea. All these wonderful old hinges and doors and windows would have ended up in the dump, wouldn’t they?”
“Most of them, yeah.”
“So you really are in the rescue business, aren’t you? You find homes for unwanted gems.”
“Guess you could say that.” He tugged at her hand. “Come on back this way. Let me show you what I found.”
“Cole, you son of a gun, you come back for those columns?”
Startled, Jenni Beth turned to see a human tank step out from behind a wall of storm doors.
“Hey, Dinky, I brought my friend to take a peek at them. She’s the one doin’ the reno, so the decision’s hers. Jenni Beth Beaumont, meet Dinky Tubbs.”
Dinky, as wide as he was tall, had a belly that completely obscured his belt buckle. Nothing soft about him, though. His arms bulged with muscle. Even with the welcoming smile, this was not a man she’d want to meet on a deserted street at night.
Cole watched as Jenni Beth, true to her breeding, crossed the pitted concrete floor to shake Dinky’s hand. The sun shone through a skylight and turned her hair into a golden halo, those eyes of her into deep, dark pools of blue.
Damn him! Beck was right. Like a riptide, his feelings for Jenni Beth were pulling him under. Time to get out of Dodge. He found her way too attractive for the good of either of them and was riding straight into the open jaws of the beast.
“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
Dinky took her hand and, for just an instant, Cole truly believed the guy meant to raise it to his lips for a kiss. And that would have been too bad. He liked Dinky, but the green-eyed monster coming to life inside him would have insisted he stomp him to dust if he had.
“Come on, Jenni Beth.” His voice deeper than usual, he nearly growled the words. “What we’re lookin’ for is in the back.”
Without waiting for her response, he headed toward the columns and was relieved when he heard her footsteps following.
“Your place is great, Dinky,” she said.
“Thanks. Hope you find somethin’ that works. Holler if ya need me.”
“I thought he was your friend,” she hissed when she reached him.
“He is,” he bit back.
“You were rude.”
“He was slobberin’ all over you.”
“What?” She stopped, hands on her hips.
When he didn’t stop, she stayed put, forcing him to turn around.
“What is wrong with you?” she demanded.
“Not a damn thing. Come on. Let’s get this done.”
She muttered something he couldn’t quite make out, but he didn’t figure he wanted to ask her to repeat it. Sometimes, a body was better off not knowing what others said about him.
He led her to the right section, then just stood back. He watched her examine the columns, one at a time, running her hands over them, and admitted he wanted those slim, soft hands on him.
Since that wasn’t in the cards, he pushed the thought away.
Hands in his back pockets, he waited quietly till she got to the ones he’d found the day before. He said nothing. Didn’t want to influence her—yet, anyway.
“These are almost identical to what’re on the house,” she said. “And there are enough of them.”
“That’s what I thought. They’re the same ones that caught my eye. They’re good and solid,” he said. “They’ve been taken care of and are tougher than woodpecker’s lips.”
“Such a way with words, Cole.”
He shrugged. “Want them?”
She nodded.
“Let’s go dicker.”
When they left Random Salvage, she had her new, old porch columns and six crystal dresser pulls she’d assured him would be perfect on a secretary she intended to move downstairs.
She threw a leg over the Harley. “I’m starved.”
“Really?” He tossed her a glance.
“I practically skipped breakfast. Nerves. You kidnapped me before I had a chance to grab lunch.”
“I didn’t kidnap you. I invited you to come with me to check out material for your renovation.” He pointed a finger at her. “And you enjoyed it. You said so yourself.”
“I did.” She smiled and lifted a brow. “And now I’m hungry.”
“How about the best burger and homemade fries this side of the Mississippi? Will that do?”
“Do they sell chocolate malts?”
“Made with hand-dipped ice cream.”
“What are we waiting for? Get a move on, cowboy.”
He laughed. That smile of hers? Unmatched. “I have to warn you, though. The place isn’t fancy. In fact, it could be plastered in the dictionary beside the definition for greasy spoon.”
“My favorite kind of place.”
“You’re lying and you know it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sometimes it is. Depends on my mood. And today’s a jeans-and-T-shirt, Harley-riding, greasy-spoon-eatin’ kind of day, Cole.” She slid on her sunglasses.
“Well, when you put it that way…” He climbed on in front of her. “Hold on.”
She did. Those arms of hers slid around his waist and she scooted up close. For two heartbeats he simply enjoyed her, the feel of her, the sweet, sexy smell of her.
Then reminded himself the lady was off-limits.
Checking his mirror to make sure she had her helmet buckled, he started the bike, his sights set on Wimpey’s Burger Basket.
Grease floated in the air right along with the oxygen molecules. Jenni Beth didn’t complain about that or the beat-up tables and chairs. Standing at the order window, she read through the menu written in grease pencil on a white board.
“I want cheese and mayo on my burger, Cole,” she finally said. “Lots of fries and that chocolate malt.”
“You got it. While I put in our order, how about you run out and save us a picnic table?”
“Sure.” She slipped her sunglasses back in place and left.
He watched her go. So did, he noticed, a couple teenage boys sitting in the corner. Jenni Beth drew attention. It didn’t matter if she was all dolled-up or dressed-down. She made a fellow want to be with her just by being.
And what was he going to do about that?
In no time, his food came up, and he carried it outside.
Handing her a wad of napkins, he slid onto the bench beside her, close enough his leg rubbed against hers. She didn’t pull away. He smiled and nudged a hair closer.
Inside, Wimpey’s Burger Basket was a disaster. Out here? A little slice of paradise. A small stream ran along the property’s edge and gurgled as it passed over worn river rock. High in a tree, a bird serenaded them with his happy song. Sun filtered through their table umbrella. A great burger, fries, a chocolate malt, and Jenni Beth Beaumont. It could make a grown man cry from the sheer pleasure of it.
Jenni Beth made a sound of pure, simple bliss as she bit into her sandwich. “This is so good.”
He dipped his plastic spoon in the whipped cream on his malt, held it up to her mouth. She closed those luscious lips around it and rolled her eyes.
“Mmm. Good.”
A tiny dollop stuck to her lip. He swiped at it with his finger, then popped it in his mouth. Watched her slate-blue eyes darken.
“Yeah, it sure is,” he agreed.
For a couple minutes, neither of them said anything.
She rested her chin on her fist. “Can I ask you something, Cole?”
“Sure.”
“Why did you decide to go into the architectural salvaging business? I mean, that’s not, like, something most little boys dream of.”
His eyes met hers, steady and unblinking. “To honor the past.”
“Right.” She made a small sound of disbelief.
He shrugged. “You said it yourself at Dinky’s. Without my business, a lot of our history would end up in the city dumps. I reclaim it. See that it’s used and loved again.” He took a bite of his burger, chewed while he studied her, tried to decipher the intense look on her face. “And you don’t believe a word I said.”
“Strangely enough, I do. While we were at Random Salvage, I saw a different side of you. And I realized that, after all these years, you’re a stranger to me.”
She wiped her hand on a napkin and extended it toward him. “Hello, I’m Jenni Beth Beaumont.”
He nearly choked on his unswallowed bite. But the earnest expression in her eyes had him reaching out to shake her hand. “Cole Bryson.”
“So, tell me five interesting things about yourself, Cole Bryson.”
“Whew. Seriously?”
“Five things.”
He held up a hand and ticked them off as he went. “I love my mama and daddy, my grandmother.”
She nodded.
“My Harley.” He flicked his chin at the big black motorcycle. “That baby’s my pride and joy. I love to take Sunday afternoon rides on her.”
“So far, you haven’t told me any secrets. Everybody in town knows all this,” she prodded.
“Ah, but you and I have just met, remember? I like to sleep exactly as I was born. Buck-naked.”
She blushed, and he laughed.
“Women have always been a mystery to me. Secret and wonderful. I love them. The look of them, the feel, the scent.” His gaze met and held hers. He held up a fifth finger. “And I’m desperately sorry for what I did to you in Savannah.”
“Not now, Cole.”
“Figured you’d say that. Your turn.”
“What?”
“Your turn.” He wiggled the fingers of one hand. “Five things.”
“Oh. Well, my family means everything to me.” She held up a finger. “I have the sweetest little ’65 ’Vette. A ragtop. That thing sails down the highway.”
“Huh-uh. Secrets, Jenni Beth. I want the dirt.”
She laughed. “I don’t think I actually have any dirt.”
“We all have dirt. Some of us have just hidden it better.”
“I desperately want to be a wedding planner.” She held up a fourth finger. “I love Cheetos and mocha frappuccinos.”
Before he could open his mouth, she said, “And I don’t actually hate the jerk that stood me up for my senior prom. I do hate that he took Kimmie Atherton, though.”
“Ahhh.” Dunking a fry into some ketchup, he asked, “Can we be friends again, Jenni Beth?”
“We were never friends.”
“Yeah, we were.” He popped the fry in his mouth and chewed.
She shook her head. “No. As a kid, I annoyed you, then, for one night, I didn’t.”
“About that night—” He cleared his throat.
“Not now,” she repeated.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I do.”
She shrugged. “You lose. Want to share a dessert?”
He rested his elbow on the table and sent her an exasperated look. “You’re still annoying.”
With a grin, she said, “Thanks.” She pointed to the menu. “How about banana pudding?”
“The malt wasn’t dessert?”
She shook her head. “Banana pudding,” she repeated.
“Nah, if we’re gonna do it, I insist on a hot fudge sundae—with a cherry and more whipped cream on top.”
She narrowed her eyes for a fraction of a second. “I can handle that.”
“I’ll bet you can.” He went back inside to order.