of emotion. He didn’t want to discuss the feelings flowing between, couldn’t face them, but he couldn’t hide them either.
Side by side, they walked the short distance to his truck. When his hand lightly touched her back, Allison smiled.
* * *
Peanut oil. Jake recognized the smell inside the Chinese Buffet, a restaurant that hadn’t existed when he and Allison were in high school. Peanut oil and egg rolls and sweet and sour sauce. His belly did a happy dance.
It was either the smells or the crazy jitterbug he’d had all afternoon about this date. And then at her house. Man. He’d had the crazy urge to kiss her. He knew better. Knew he had no business making moves on Allison when he had nothing to offer but trouble and the memory of his taillights heading out of town.
But she looked amazing tonight. Gorgeous. He hadn’t seen her dressed up in years and he liked the change. A lot. In jeans and sweater she knocked his hat in the dirt. In a skirt and heels, she blew all the common sense out of his head.
He had a lot more praying to do. They were playing with a powerfully combustive fire, and every time he stomped it out, Allison provided fresh fuel. She cared for him. He knew that. Knew and shuddered, both with dread and pleasure. Nothing good could come of a romance with Allison Buchanon. Nothing.
Then why was he here? Why had he agreed to this movie date?
Sometimes a man was his own worst enemy.
With his hand against Allison’s soft hot pink sweater, he guided her into the restaurant.
From behind a cash register next to the entrance a young Asian man nodded a greeting. Above his head a red-and-gold calendar written in Chinese hung next to a panda photo. The place was humming with customers, always a sign of good food.
The restaurant’s one concession to the approaching holiday was a tissue paper turkey above the buffet.
Beneath stainless-steel hoods, heat rose off the buffet in waves that reminded Jake of Allison’s hair. But then, everything reminded him of Allison.
“Buffet or menu?” Jake asked.
Her pretty face creased in an ornery, Allison grin that made his heart light. She did that to him. Made him want things he didn’t deserve and couldn’t have.
“Oh, buffet, definitely,” she said, “so we can try all the mysterious stuff.”
“Chopsticks?” Jake reached into the cylinder and pulled out two pair. Chinese symbols decorated the red-papered sides.
“Are you kidding? I don’t want to starve.”
With a snort, he stuck the chopsticks in his shirt pocket. “Coward.”
Grinning, they took their place in a busy line, and once they’d piled their plates to overflow and were seated, he quietly asked a blessing.
When he opened his eyes, Allison was watching him.
“What?” He touched his chin. “Do I have hot mustard on my face already?”
Her eyes went soft. “I love hearing you pray.”
His insides spasmed. No one had ever said that to him. “Thanks.”
He reached for his napkin, and self-conscious, made a display of shaking out the white square. His faith filled him with a peace he didn’t understand, but he wasn’t a preacher, not even close. He wasn’t even that great at being a Christian, and he didn’t deserve admiration.
“Any luck discovering who vandalized the property?”
“Not yet.” Allison dipped an egg roll into duck sauce.
“The fearsome foursome still pointing at me?” He couldn’t explain how much that had hurt, especially when history gave them reason to suspect him, but he’d fretted about the situation all day.
He reached for a wonton and crunched. Cream cheese. Not his favorite but he wasn’t complaining.
“Not to my knowledge.” She held the egg roll an inch from her lips. Pretty lips. He remembered how soft they were. How they trembled when she cried and how they tasted when she kissed. Like coconut. He dropped his gaze and fiddled with a pair of chopsticks. He shouldn’t remember things like that.
“Can we please not talk about my
Side by side, they walked the short distance to his truck. When his hand lightly touched her back, Allison smiled.
* * *
Peanut oil. Jake recognized the smell inside the Chinese Buffet, a restaurant that hadn’t existed when he and Allison were in high school. Peanut oil and egg rolls and sweet and sour sauce. His belly did a happy dance.
It was either the smells or the crazy jitterbug he’d had all afternoon about this date. And then at her house. Man. He’d had the crazy urge to kiss her. He knew better. Knew he had no business making moves on Allison when he had nothing to offer but trouble and the memory of his taillights heading out of town.
But she looked amazing tonight. Gorgeous. He hadn’t seen her dressed up in years and he liked the change. A lot. In jeans and sweater she knocked his hat in the dirt. In a skirt and heels, she blew all the common sense out of his head.
He had a lot more praying to do. They were playing with a powerfully combustive fire, and every time he stomped it out, Allison provided fresh fuel. She cared for him. He knew that. Knew and shuddered, both with dread and pleasure. Nothing good could come of a romance with Allison Buchanon. Nothing.
Then why was he here? Why had he agreed to this movie date?
Sometimes a man was his own worst enemy.
With his hand against Allison’s soft hot pink sweater, he guided her into the restaurant.
From behind a cash register next to the entrance a young Asian man nodded a greeting. Above his head a red-and-gold calendar written in Chinese hung next to a panda photo. The place was humming with customers, always a sign of good food.
The restaurant’s one concession to the approaching holiday was a tissue paper turkey above the buffet.
Beneath stainless-steel hoods, heat rose off the buffet in waves that reminded Jake of Allison’s hair. But then, everything reminded him of Allison.
“Buffet or menu?” Jake asked.
Her pretty face creased in an ornery, Allison grin that made his heart light. She did that to him. Made him want things he didn’t deserve and couldn’t have.
“Oh, buffet, definitely,” she said, “so we can try all the mysterious stuff.”
“Chopsticks?” Jake reached into the cylinder and pulled out two pair. Chinese symbols decorated the red-papered sides.
“Are you kidding? I don’t want to starve.”
With a snort, he stuck the chopsticks in his shirt pocket. “Coward.”
Grinning, they took their place in a busy line, and once they’d piled their plates to overflow and were seated, he quietly asked a blessing.
When he opened his eyes, Allison was watching him.
“What?” He touched his chin. “Do I have hot mustard on my face already?”
Her eyes went soft. “I love hearing you pray.”
His insides spasmed. No one had ever said that to him. “Thanks.”
He reached for his napkin, and self-conscious, made a display of shaking out the white square. His faith filled him with a peace he didn’t understand, but he wasn’t a preacher, not even close. He wasn’t even that great at being a Christian, and he didn’t deserve admiration.
“Any luck discovering who vandalized the property?”
“Not yet.” Allison dipped an egg roll into duck sauce.
“The fearsome foursome still pointing at me?” He couldn’t explain how much that had hurt, especially when history gave them reason to suspect him, but he’d fretted about the situation all day.
He reached for a wonton and crunched. Cream cheese. Not his favorite but he wasn’t complaining.
“Not to my knowledge.” She held the egg roll an inch from her lips. Pretty lips. He remembered how soft they were. How they trembled when she cried and how they tasted when she kissed. Like coconut. He dropped his gaze and fiddled with a pair of chopsticks. He shouldn’t remember things like that.
“Can we please not talk about my
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