300-horsepower engine—it ate up asphalt. The blue paint sparkled in the sunlight, and she loved the way she felt with the top down and the wind whipping her hair. Everything about Jess was methodical, practical, all sharp points and rules, but her sexy car busted all that apart. When Jess let go behind the wheel, she let go.
“Nice,” Ryan said, running his hand over the freshly waxed hood. “And hot.” He shook his hand and grimaced.
Jess unlocked her baby and climbed inside, cranking the engine and pushing the button that would lower the top. “Thanks.”
Ryan climbed into the passenger’s seat. “So I sensed you were ready to get out of there?”
“In theory, no. In reality, yes.” She inhaled deeply and released the tension with her breath. “Going out for drinks is not my thing. I don’t care for a bunch of noise or silly small talk. The whole time I was sitting there, I kept thinking about how comfy the Dirty Heron’s couch is and how good the wine I opened last night was.”
Ryan hesitated for moment. Then he clicked the seat belt and said, “I get it, but how about before we settle down on your couch, I take you somewhere.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere you’ll like. Head downtown.”
“My, you’re bossy.” Jess pulled out of Landsharks and followed Ryan’s directions. Not ten minutes later, she pulled into parking lot where a shiny diner sat. Scenic 90 Café looked straight out of the 1950s and could have been a twin sister to Dean’s Diner in Morning Glory. “It looks like—”
“Dean’s,” Ryan finished, giving her a wink. “I come here sometimes when I need a little small-town goodness . . . and a good piece of pie.”
Jess felt warmth flood her. Ryan had brought her to a place that reminded her of home. Somehow he’d sensed what she couldn’t admit—that underneath her declarations of what was good for her was a longing to connect to who she truly was—a small-town girl missing her life. How Ryan knew this, she couldn’t begin to guess. Maybe he didn’t. But it felt nice to be parked in front of a place that was so . . . her.
Ever since she’d signed the divorce papers, she’d been pulling on a dress that didn’t fit her. Mostly because she felt she had to. People back home, her mother included, had been giving helpful advice like, “You should be over him by now,” or “Get back in the dating pool,” or people would say, “I always knew this would happen—people shouldn’t marry their high school sweethearts.” Jess had started believing them and had forced herself to be someone she wasn’t. She’d gone to the Iron Bull several times, not counting that night with Eden. And she’d hated it. Even today she’d forced herself to meet Becky and Tanae. As if having a drink in a bar could help her get over everything that had happened to her in the last year.
When Ryan pushed the door to the diner open, the smell of french fries and bread welcomed her. The floors were tiled black and white, and the ceiling was lined with electric-blue neon. A metal roof and booths covered in teal pleather lent a kitschy feel, as did the waitress with the mile-high hair.
Her name tag read C INDY and she popped her gum as she chewed. As soon as she saw Ryan, she placed a perfect lipstick tattoo on his cheek. “There’s my favorite boy. Ooh, who’s your friend?”
“This is Jess. We graduated high school together,” Ryan said, waving at another waitress across the room.
“Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit. I’m a Mississippi girl myself, darlin’. I’m from Meridian,” Cindy drawled, setting wrapped utensils on the table and jabbing a finger at the plastic menus on the table. “Menus are right there. You want a Coke, Ryan?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan said, arching an eyebrow at her.
“Oh, I’ll take a tea.”
“One Coca-Cola and a sweet tea coming right up,” Cindy said, walking away before Jess could say she’d prefer unsweet.
“Guess I’m
“Nice,” Ryan said, running his hand over the freshly waxed hood. “And hot.” He shook his hand and grimaced.
Jess unlocked her baby and climbed inside, cranking the engine and pushing the button that would lower the top. “Thanks.”
Ryan climbed into the passenger’s seat. “So I sensed you were ready to get out of there?”
“In theory, no. In reality, yes.” She inhaled deeply and released the tension with her breath. “Going out for drinks is not my thing. I don’t care for a bunch of noise or silly small talk. The whole time I was sitting there, I kept thinking about how comfy the Dirty Heron’s couch is and how good the wine I opened last night was.”
Ryan hesitated for moment. Then he clicked the seat belt and said, “I get it, but how about before we settle down on your couch, I take you somewhere.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere you’ll like. Head downtown.”
“My, you’re bossy.” Jess pulled out of Landsharks and followed Ryan’s directions. Not ten minutes later, she pulled into parking lot where a shiny diner sat. Scenic 90 Café looked straight out of the 1950s and could have been a twin sister to Dean’s Diner in Morning Glory. “It looks like—”
“Dean’s,” Ryan finished, giving her a wink. “I come here sometimes when I need a little small-town goodness . . . and a good piece of pie.”
Jess felt warmth flood her. Ryan had brought her to a place that reminded her of home. Somehow he’d sensed what she couldn’t admit—that underneath her declarations of what was good for her was a longing to connect to who she truly was—a small-town girl missing her life. How Ryan knew this, she couldn’t begin to guess. Maybe he didn’t. But it felt nice to be parked in front of a place that was so . . . her.
Ever since she’d signed the divorce papers, she’d been pulling on a dress that didn’t fit her. Mostly because she felt she had to. People back home, her mother included, had been giving helpful advice like, “You should be over him by now,” or “Get back in the dating pool,” or people would say, “I always knew this would happen—people shouldn’t marry their high school sweethearts.” Jess had started believing them and had forced herself to be someone she wasn’t. She’d gone to the Iron Bull several times, not counting that night with Eden. And she’d hated it. Even today she’d forced herself to meet Becky and Tanae. As if having a drink in a bar could help her get over everything that had happened to her in the last year.
When Ryan pushed the door to the diner open, the smell of french fries and bread welcomed her. The floors were tiled black and white, and the ceiling was lined with electric-blue neon. A metal roof and booths covered in teal pleather lent a kitschy feel, as did the waitress with the mile-high hair.
Her name tag read C INDY and she popped her gum as she chewed. As soon as she saw Ryan, she placed a perfect lipstick tattoo on his cheek. “There’s my favorite boy. Ooh, who’s your friend?”
“This is Jess. We graduated high school together,” Ryan said, waving at another waitress across the room.
“Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit. I’m a Mississippi girl myself, darlin’. I’m from Meridian,” Cindy drawled, setting wrapped utensils on the table and jabbing a finger at the plastic menus on the table. “Menus are right there. You want a Coke, Ryan?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan said, arching an eyebrow at her.
“Oh, I’ll take a tea.”
“One Coca-Cola and a sweet tea coming right up,” Cindy said, walking away before Jess could say she’d prefer unsweet.
“Guess I’m
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