Grinning, she looked to be much more at easewith the joking than she had been with the talk of her birthdaycelebration. “Cake’s okay. I’d rather have pie.”
“Then pie you shall have.” How many birthdayshad no one even noticed? Or maybe known about but not cared? Heknew Pippa wouldn’t have missed a one, but how could his family bedropping the ball like this?
“I may want to sit and eat the whole damnthing alone, far from cell service anyway.” And her mood wasplummeting again.
Fearing why, he couldn’t help but ask.“Lovely Yvette’s going to start asking for more, isn’t she?”Reaching the edge of Foothills proper, he slowed the truck for thefirst stop light.
Again, finding the most minute strings andfuzzies to pull off her black pants, Sophie shook her head.“Without a doubt. I’m debating giving her a final chunk with somesort of binding agreement so she can never ask for anything more.Wishful thinking, but I’m hoping that will satisfy her for alleternity.”
“You don’t owe her a damn thing. She abusedyour trust fund and did the least amount of parenting she could foryou.” Asher found himself steaming, his fists clenching, ready tolash out at the injustice.
The old pickup was still alive and well asthey pulled up in front of Foothills Accounting. Good thing too;she was upset enough, and missing this meeting would have wreckedher. His truck radio hadn’t worked in years, so he glanced at hiswatch. “See, you’re here precisely fifteen minutes early.”
Grinning, Sophie grabbed her purse. “Meet youat the bank in… two hours? Maybe we can go for an afternoon hikeafter? As friends, of course,” she quickly corrected.
Watching her enthusiasm quickly building, hecouldn’t help but smile with her. “Sure thing. I’ll pick up somesupplies in case we get lost in the wilderness,” he teased,remembering her fondness for picnics.
She leaned across and pressed her lips to hisfor a quick peck on the lips. Friendly, almost platonic. Sort of.She must be having as much trouble with the friend-thing as hewas.
Watching her walk in the building, he ran histongue over his lips to savor her taste. It was going to be a longdamn wait. He’d never really waited before, just dove right intothe sex part.
Maybe he would have stuck around longer ifhe’d had to wait before… nah. None of them were Sophie. None wereeven close to worth waiting for like she was.
11
After correcting the truck into the parking spot, hebanged his forehead against the steering wheel.Ouch. Itdidn’t help. He put some coins in the meter and strolled down theblock to the diner, focusing on every little detail that wasn’tSophie.
As usual, Foothills wasn’t overcrowded, butthere was a constant murmuring of activity. Being mid-week, mostfolks were at work. Those that weren’t were taking the kids to thesmall grassy park across the street or perusing the shops in searchof the latest treasures. A small handful, like Asher, were headedinto Larissa’s Diner for a late breakfast, or a place to rest andconsider their plans for the day over a cup of coffee or hotchocolate.
“Well, I’ll be. Asher Sutherland. You get onover here and give old Larissa a hug.” Straight out of Alabama,Larissa hadn’t shaved off a trace of her accent in the thirty yearsshe’d run Larissa’s Diner in Foothills. She set down the menusshe’d been holding and sashayed toward him.
Glad for the warm welcome, Asher met herhalfway and pulled her in for a big bear hug, lifting her sturdyframe a few inches off the ground. Before he could step out ofreach, she whacked him on the shoulder with the plaid hand towelshe chronically kept draped over her shoulder. “Always the flirt.Although, not for long from what Irene tells me.”
Shit. In trying to let Irene off easy, hetold her he’d met someone. It was true, becoming truer by the day,but nothing he could actually let anyone know about. “Keep yourvoice down, I’ve got a reputation to uphold,” he teased back,unable to hide the grin, hoping one day to shout from the rooftopsthat he had taken the fall.
“What can I get for you? You eat breakfastalready?” She waggled back to her post behind the counter.
He gestured to a booth by the window. It wasstill a few minutes to ten. “Just passing the time. Cup ofcoffee?”
“Are you going to order a cup of coffee andnot have a slice of pie to go with that? I’ve got my famousstrawberry-rhubarb just finished cooling.” She grabbed the carafeof coffee from behind the bar and followed him to his choice ofbooth and flipped a waiting coffee cup right-side up, setting itgently on the paper doily coaster and filled it with piping hotcoffee.
Asher grinned, “How could I possibly turndown a slice of your strawberry-rhubarb pie?”
Leaving him to enjoy his coffee, shedisappeared to grab the pie. He didn’t have much of a sweet tooth,but he couldn’t let her down by not trying the pie. And eatingevery last bite. Maybe it was her feelings, or maybe a clever salestactic, but he couldn’t say no either way.
After devouring every last gooey morsel ofthe pie and raving over it, two cups of coffee, and an hour ofletting his brain wander to stranger and more confusing places,like what he was going to do with the rest of his life, he wasbeyond restless. One could only play so many games on his phone andstare out the window for so long.
Heading up to the counter, he cashed out.“Thanks Larissa. Can you have a whole one of your excellentstrawberry rhubarb pies ready for me about this time tomorrow?Maybe another one, something seasonal you can recommend?”
She beamed at the praise. “For you, anything.I can whip up a fine blueberry pie to go with it. What’s theoccasion?”
“Birthday party.”
A sly expression crossed her face, her eyescurious, “For your lady friend?”
Looking around the diner, he ensured no onecould hear them. No one he knew, anyway. “That’s right. Not a wordnow, okay?”
“Secrets don’t help anyone, you know.”Serious now, she held the full lecture he knew she could deliver.In spades. As the not-angry, or even bitter, mother of an ex-loverof his, he knew she was openminded and understanding. He also knewshe was a hopeless romantic.
