Zach leaned over the counter, a mischievous grin curving across his mouth. “I don’t think they approve of my mode of transportation.”
“It’s not the bike, Zach.”
“Are you saying those woman don’t approve of me?”
“You’re crushed, I see.”
“Devastated. Is Cecilia’s death-ray glare of disapproval getting to you?”
Biting her bottom lip to keep from laughing, Karen donned clear plastic gloves. “Cecilia’s death-ray stares aren’t hurting me any. I missed you this morning. You didn’t come in for coffee. Are you two-timing me over at the diner?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m a devoted man. Not even the diner’s full breakfast menu can tempt me away from your charming shop.”
“A loyal customer. Just what I like to hear.”
“I have to confess I made my own java and took a thermos of it fishing with me this morning.”
“I didn’t know bachelors could make coffee.”
“You see, there’s this little scoop that comes in the can. It’s easy to measure.”
“A can? You didn’t even grind your own beans?” Karen unwrapped a loaf of fresh bread. “I’m disappointed in you.”
“I know, but I’ve learned my lesson. Next time I’ll bring my thermos over and let you fill it for me.”
How did he do it, she wondered. With that dazzling smile and his melting-chocolate voice, Zach could chase away her troubles and leave her smiling.
“How’s that car of yours?”
“Still running, and don’t look so surprised.”
“Only prayers are keeping that heap going, believe me. When it finally breaks down for good, give me a call and I’ll help you out.”
“Unlike you, I have complete faith.”
“Unlike you, I’ve looked under the hood, and that car’s doomed, Karen. I’m telling you this as a friend. I’ve already ordered a used engine.”
“I can’t afford it.”
“We’ll work something out or we can barter. Car parts for sandwiches?”
“That’s a lot of sandwiches.”
Zach sent Cecilia a brief, imposing glare. “Mrs. Thornton still hasn’t forgiven you for dumping her son?”
“Does it look like it?”
“If she’s upset, what’s she doing in your shop?”
“This is the only place in town to buy a latte.” Karen sighed.
“You’re doing the right thing, giving it time.” He meant to be comforting. “Everyone knows you and Jay will get back together.”
“Everybody doesn’t know me, not if they believe that. I’m never going to marry Jay.” Karen concentrated extra hard on her sandwich making. “I suppose that’s what you think, too, isn’t it? That good, dependable Karen will do what’s sensible. And why not? It’s what I’ve always done.”
“That’s the problem with a small town. People make up their minds about what kind of person you are, and it doesn’t matter how honest you try to be when it comes to their repair bills, they still see what they’re used to seeing.”
“I know what you mean.” Karen’s pulse skipped again. Had Zach’s eyes always been so blue? “Have a good afternoon.”
“Good luck surviving Cecilia’s death-ray stare.” He tossed a five-dollar bill on the counter and took the paper sack from her.
His hand brushed hers and burned her like a hot flame.
Why was she feeling like this? Confused, she watched Zach push open the door, causing the bell to jangle overhead. For a brief moment he glanced at her, his eyes dark with unmistakable sympathy.
Then he turned and was gone. The bell chimed again as the door snapped shut, and Karen felt as if all the warmth had gone from the room. What was wrong with her? What was going on?
She didn’t mean to be watching him, but there he was. Striding down the walk with the wind tousling his dark hair. He looked as rakish as a pirate, and yet as dependable as the earth. He hesitated at the top of the stairs and then he disappeared from her sight.
Caffeine, that’s what she needed. Karen reached for the pitcher of iced tea and poured a tall glass. The sweet cool liquid slid down the back of her throat, but it didn’t ease the confusion within her.
The bell chimed again. Zach—had he come back? Karen held her breath as the door swung open to reveal not her handsome mechanic but someone just as welcome. Her grandmother swept into the room wearing a red T-shirt, a pair of denim shorts and tennis shoes.
Karen nearly dropped her glass. “What happened to you?”
“I raided Michelle and Kirby’s closets. I’ve been wearing dresses all my life. It’s time for a change.” Gramma set her purse on the counter. It was a neat slim red pocketbook instead of the sensible black handbag she always carried.
What was going on?
Gramma faced the dining room and clapped her hands. “Ladies, Karen sure appreciates your business, but she’s going to have to close up shop for a few hours. I know you understand. Here, Cecilia, let me get a paper cup so you can take your latte with you.”
Cecilia’s disapproving glare gained new intensity. “Helen, whatever have you done to yourself?”
“What? A woman can’t wear shorts in the heat of summer?” Her grandmother looked nonplussed as she transferred Cecilia’s latte from the mug to the paper cup. “Now, head on out so I can lock the door.”
“Gramma!” Karen stepped forward before her grandmother took over completely. “You can’t do this. It’s nearly time for the lunch crowd.”
“But you have to leave right now.” Gramma flipped the sign in the window so it read Closed. “It’s the only time Dawn over at the Snip & Style could fit us into her schedule.”
“What do you mean by ‘us’? You’re the one getting your hair colored. I’m going for moral support. That’s what we agreed to.”
“That’s not how I remember it. Come on, get your keys. I’m not about to be late, not when Dawn has promised me a whole new look.”
“Gramma, I’m glad you’re doing this. I’m thrilled, really. But lunch brings in the biggest sales of the day. I can’t miss it. Maybe Michelle can—”
“Your sister has a client scheduled—you. I mean it, ladies, out of those chairs. Hustle.” Gramma gave a good-humored clap, looking as if she were herding reluctant deer from her rose garden. “Thanks, ladies. Karen sure appreciates it.”
“Anything for our Karen,” Marj Whitly said warmly. “That’s just the thing she needs, Helen. Time for herself at the beauty parlor, a complete shampoo and facial. Restores the spirit, it does. Then she’ll be over her wedding jitters and can get down to the business of marrying your son, Cecilia.”