Love from Left Field by Megan Ryder

satellite here. And the feeling was disconcerting and unfamiliar. After a long moment, the women separated and Miranda gestured to Lucas.
    “This is Lucas. He used to live here but seems to have forgotten good Southern cooking. Lucas, this is AnnaMae Harper, owner of the Harper House, the best damn place for fried chicken in all of Savannah.”
    “And everywhere else, too.” AnnaMae chided. The woman grabbed Lucas in a bear hug. She barely came to Lucas’s shoulders, but her grip was surprisingly strong. “Then we need to reacquaint you, and put some meat on your bones. Too skinny.” She squeezed his upper arm and nodded wickedly. “Nice biceps though.”
    She whirled and waved for them to follow her. They weaved among tables that lay somewhat scattered across the surprisingly spacious and open floor plan of the house. She paused by a small alcove near a stained glass window. The table was for two and tucked away from prying eyes. The flame from a candle on the table, designed to increase the romantic quality of the restaurant, cast shadows against the wall.
    “Perfect spot for a little romance, eh?”
    Lucas squirmed uncomfortably while Miranda only smiled. “It’s a business dinner, AnnaMae. Nothing more.”
    “This is too nice a night for business. Now, sit and let my granddaughter, Annabelle, take good care of you. Annabelle, bring them two Savannahs.” AnnaMae winked and bustled off to the front of the restaurant and her remaining customers.
    A young woman with far too many tattoos and piercings smiled broadly and poured some water for them. “Be right back with the drinks.”
    “Thanks, Annabelle.”
    “Annabelle? AnnaMae?”
    Miranda grinned. “Family tradition. All the girls are named Anna.” She folded her hands on the table. “So, how does it feel to be home again?”
    He frowned and glanced around. “Shouldn’t we have menus to look at?”
    “AnnaMae will take care of us. Now, stop avoiding the question.” Miranda studied him with laser intensity.
    He shifted slightly in his chair, not liking being on the other side of an interrogation. “It doesn’t really feel like home. Not anymore.”
    Pity shone in her eyes. “You grew up here. Have you really blocked it out of your mind that much?”
    The waitress came back with their drinks and some warm bread. Miranda thanked her while Lucas only nodded, Miranda’s question sending him deep into the vault of memory, a place he had studiously avoided for the past decade. “My job keeps me on the road so much I don’t really have a home anymore.”
    She reached across the table and gripped his hand in hers, a sympathetic look in her eyes. “I’m sorry. What about your mom?”
    He snorted. “It’s okay, really. My dad died just after college. Mom decided to leave Savannah and we all sort of drifted apart. It’s my choice and I’m okay with it.”
    Her questions brought back uncomfortable memories; how he lost he had felt after his dad had passed. By then, his brother and sister were in college and forging new lives. His mother hated the memories of their house in Savannah and decided moving was best for her. Somehow, he had lost his roots. He had never felt particularly sad about that before, until now. Being back with the Knights was like moving back home after being on his own for a long time. He didn’t quite fit in, but he realized how much of his family was still here, how nice it was to have people around him who cared.
    She looked doubtful but let the subject drop. She sipped her drink and tore a piece of bread from the basket. “Try the butter. It’s honey flavored. I may have to work out more because of it, but it’s worth it.” She popped a piece in her mouth and closed her eyes.
    He groaned. “Have mercy, Miranda.”
    Her eyes flew open and she grinned. “Bothering you? Maybe you shouldn’t have started something you couldn’t finish.”
    He sipped his drink and coughed. “What the hell is in there?”
    Miranda took a