talked about trying out.
The pub was surprisingly crowded—although maybe it wasn’t that surprising, as any new restaurant in Stillbrook tended to draw a lot of business for the first few weeks after opening.
A.J. was led to a comfortable high-back, leather-lined booth against the wall. She glanced over the menu, ordered Greek spinach salad with feta cheese and a hot oil dressing, and then studied the artfully placed copper dishes and molds adorning the dark-paneled walls while she waited for her meal.
Her idle gaze fell on a familiar set of shoulders and sleek, dark head. She registered the fact that the shoulders and head belonged to Jake at approximately the same moment she realized that he was having lunch with a slender, attractive young woman about her own age.
It gave her an odd jolt. Not that there was anything wrong with Jake having lunch with someone of the female persuasion. She certainly had male friends who she occasionally lunched with. She tried to think of one and came up with Simon Crider, one of the instructors at the studio. Well, and Andy, her ex-husband. Jake hadn’t objected too much when Andy had spent several weeks with A.J. the previous summer while he was going through a rough patch.
She tried to scrutinize Jake’s companion without appearing to stare.
The woman had wide light eyes and brown hair artfully streaked with blonde. Her smile was very white. She smiled a lot. While she was not pretty exactly, she had a certain wholesome sex appeal.
A.J. watched them for a few seconds with an odd, uneasy sensation. She told herself not to be an idiot, but there was nothing like having been the victim of a cheating husband to hone a woman’s instincts, and even from behind, watching the curve of Jake’s lean cheek crease in a slight smile, watching the attentive tilt of his head as he listened to the woman, A.J. knew this was not a long lost sister or a former partner from his days in uniform.
Of course, what she should do—the normal thing—would be to get up and walk right over there and say hello.
So why wasn’t she doing that?
The waitress arrived with her lunch, and A.J. managed to eat a few bites of salad before her gaze was drawn inexorably back to Jake and his companion. They were laughing. The woman reached over and rested her hand briefly on Jake’s arm.
A wave of cold nausea washed through A.J. She told herself not to overreact, but she knew her instinct was not wrong. There was definitely something between them.
She tried to decide what to do. If the situation between her and Jake were as usual, she would simply go over there and say hello. But with matters strained as they were . . .
As this thought took form in A.J.’s mind, Jake—as though feeling the gaze burning between his shoulder blades—glanced around. He did a double take. And then he rose and came over to A.J.’s table.
A.J. dredged up a smile.
Jake didn’t even try. “I didn’t see you come in,” he said. He didn’t seem guilty, exactly, but he did look uncomfortable.
“You were otherwise occupied.” She winced internally at both the words and the light, cool tone. The last thing she wanted to appear was jealous or insecure. She and Jake did not have a commitment. They didn’t even have an agreement not to see other people.
“I’m having lunch with an old friend.”
A.J. considered and discarded a variety of responses. She settled on the all-purpose, “Oh?”
Belatedly, though only by a second or two, Jake asked, “Would you like to join us for dessert?”
“I don’t think so.” Somehow, despite A.J.’s best intentions, it came out sounding like an action hero’s line seconds before he blew the bad guy away.
She couldn’t read Jake’s expression at all, and he seemed to be having a similar problem with her. He said, “Well, at least let me introduce you.”
“Of course!” It came out far too brightly, but she was oversteering, trying to make up for the snippiness of her earlier
The pub was surprisingly crowded—although maybe it wasn’t that surprising, as any new restaurant in Stillbrook tended to draw a lot of business for the first few weeks after opening.
A.J. was led to a comfortable high-back, leather-lined booth against the wall. She glanced over the menu, ordered Greek spinach salad with feta cheese and a hot oil dressing, and then studied the artfully placed copper dishes and molds adorning the dark-paneled walls while she waited for her meal.
Her idle gaze fell on a familiar set of shoulders and sleek, dark head. She registered the fact that the shoulders and head belonged to Jake at approximately the same moment she realized that he was having lunch with a slender, attractive young woman about her own age.
It gave her an odd jolt. Not that there was anything wrong with Jake having lunch with someone of the female persuasion. She certainly had male friends who she occasionally lunched with. She tried to think of one and came up with Simon Crider, one of the instructors at the studio. Well, and Andy, her ex-husband. Jake hadn’t objected too much when Andy had spent several weeks with A.J. the previous summer while he was going through a rough patch.
She tried to scrutinize Jake’s companion without appearing to stare.
The woman had wide light eyes and brown hair artfully streaked with blonde. Her smile was very white. She smiled a lot. While she was not pretty exactly, she had a certain wholesome sex appeal.
A.J. watched them for a few seconds with an odd, uneasy sensation. She told herself not to be an idiot, but there was nothing like having been the victim of a cheating husband to hone a woman’s instincts, and even from behind, watching the curve of Jake’s lean cheek crease in a slight smile, watching the attentive tilt of his head as he listened to the woman, A.J. knew this was not a long lost sister or a former partner from his days in uniform.
Of course, what she should do—the normal thing—would be to get up and walk right over there and say hello.
So why wasn’t she doing that?
The waitress arrived with her lunch, and A.J. managed to eat a few bites of salad before her gaze was drawn inexorably back to Jake and his companion. They were laughing. The woman reached over and rested her hand briefly on Jake’s arm.
A wave of cold nausea washed through A.J. She told herself not to overreact, but she knew her instinct was not wrong. There was definitely something between them.
She tried to decide what to do. If the situation between her and Jake were as usual, she would simply go over there and say hello. But with matters strained as they were . . .
As this thought took form in A.J.’s mind, Jake—as though feeling the gaze burning between his shoulder blades—glanced around. He did a double take. And then he rose and came over to A.J.’s table.
A.J. dredged up a smile.
Jake didn’t even try. “I didn’t see you come in,” he said. He didn’t seem guilty, exactly, but he did look uncomfortable.
“You were otherwise occupied.” She winced internally at both the words and the light, cool tone. The last thing she wanted to appear was jealous or insecure. She and Jake did not have a commitment. They didn’t even have an agreement not to see other people.
“I’m having lunch with an old friend.”
A.J. considered and discarded a variety of responses. She settled on the all-purpose, “Oh?”
Belatedly, though only by a second or two, Jake asked, “Would you like to join us for dessert?”
“I don’t think so.” Somehow, despite A.J.’s best intentions, it came out sounding like an action hero’s line seconds before he blew the bad guy away.
She couldn’t read Jake’s expression at all, and he seemed to be having a similar problem with her. He said, “Well, at least let me introduce you.”
“Of course!” It came out far too brightly, but she was oversteering, trying to make up for the snippiness of her earlier
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