Winning Her Heart

“Thanks, but no.” Lucy gave him a quick hug. “Careful what you ask for Micah or we’ll find something for you to do around here eventually. Won’t we, Jasmine?”

Micah finished his sandwich while Jasmine took care of other customers at the bar.

When she returned, she cleared away his empty plate and placed it underneath the counter.

“How long are you in town?” she asked.

“I’m just visiting. I’ve got to get back to Portland in a few days.”

“Is that where you live now?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes. I actually have an apartment in each city where I have a restaurant, so Portland, Chicago and New York City. I bounce around a lot.”

“Sounds like fun, but I prefer to call one place home.”

“You’ve only been here a little while. Is Bay Point ‘home’ for you already?” he teased.

“Time will tell.” A shadow crossed her face, and he sensed she was unhappy. “My grandmother needs me.”

She laid his bill on the counter. “I hope you enjoyed everything.”

He barely glanced at the amount and reached into his back pocket for his wallet, keeping his eyes on hers.

“I did, and if I said something that offended you earlier, I’m sorry.”

Jasmine bit her lip and she seemed nervous. “You didn’t. I’m just protective of her, that’s all.”

“And she seems protective of you,” he said, handing over his platinum credit card. “Sounds like she really relies on you.”

“Lunchtime is busy and she needs the help.”

She shrugged her shoulders, then glanced over at the kitchen. “But I do more than pour drinks, she’s been doing the books by herself all these years, by hand no less. I’m bringing her into the 21st century.”

“Kicking and screaming?”

Jasmine laughed. “Oh, yeah. Definitely.”

“That’s wonderful. Do you help with the cooking too?”

“No way. I try to stay out of the kitchen as much as possible.”

She asked him if he wanted anything else, and he shook his head. He had other things to do that afternoon, but he also didn’t want their conversation to end.

“I could give you a cooking lesson.”

Jasmine pursed her lips. “Oh really? Can you give me an idea of what the first class would be like, so I can judge if I’m interested?”

“How about I teach you how to make homemade spaghetti sauce? And then how to cook the perfect pasta al dente? There’s an art to cooking, you know.”

Her half smile was sexy and dismissive at the same time. “Thanks, but with all I have to do around here, I don’t think I have time.”

She handed him the receipt, which he quickly signed. She tried to reach for his pen, but he held on to it.

“Wait. Before I go, I have something to ask you.”

Jasmine furrowed her brow, but he couldn’t tell if she was annoyed or curious.

“What is it?”

“Do you?”

He watched her face, deliberately being obtuse.

“Do I what?” she repeated, drawing out the words as if she didn’t understand.

“Care.” He pointed at her with the pen. “Your T-shirt says Ask Me if I Care. So, I’m asking. Do you care?”

She stared into his eyes, challenging him. “That’s an odd question to ask someone you just met.”

“Let’s just say, I care about the answer.”

Smiling, she lifted her chin. “Rub the crystal ball and see.”

“That old thing is still here?”

He glanced toward the door surprised that he hadn’t noticed the large glass orb nestled on a gold-columned pedestal near the front of the restaurant when he’d first walked in.

Locals touched it on their way in or out, hoping it would bring them good luck. He remembered giving the thing a good rub on the night of his senior prom, hoping he’d get lucky with his date. But she’d slapped him in the face when he made his move. He didn’t even make it through the first kiss.

Over the years, his luck had changed. He had no trouble seducing any woman that he wanted, and Jasmine Kennedy would be no exception.

He gave her a large tip, and added his phone number before handing the receipt and the pen back to her.

“What’s that sly grin for?” she asked.

“Call me and find out.”

Micah winked and felt her eyes linger on his back as he headed toward the front of the restaurant. He knew she was waiting to see if he would touch the crystal ball.

But he refused, and sailed right past it. He wasn’t a superstitious man, just a cautious one, and he didn’t believe in magic. Just hard work.

The sun nearly blinded him when he emerged from the poorly lit restaurant. He’d forgotten his sunglasses in the car, so he shaded his eyes with his right hand and looked across the street at his building.

There was brown paper on the windows and the scaffolding was up, but no construction workers in sight. Checking his watch, he saw that it was nearly three o’clock. Were they already done for the day?

He stuck his hands in his pockets and jingled his keys, debating whether to check on the renovation, as he’d originally intended. He was expected for dinner at his family’s beach estate at five o’clock, but wanted to get there early for a relaxing shower and shave.

Temporary lodging in his boyhood bedroom, he told himself.