The Widow's Bachelor Bargain

If he had any doubts about his cousin’s commitment to Sydney, they would have disappeared at the lovelorn expression on his face. Sloan had mixed feelings. On one hand, he was very glad to see Burke so happy. On the other, he knew this signaled the end of any bachelor-type fun with his best friend.

And suddenly it hit him what had been bothering him since walking in on Syd and Burke. He felt as if he was on the outside looking in. Alone. Lonely and a little bit envious. What a shallow bastard he was, with a healthy dose of selfishness thrown in for good measure.

Until this moment, he hadn’t realized how much he’d been looking forward to hanging out with Burke and doing what bachelors did. Commitment changed everything and for Burke’s sake, he hoped it was for the better. For Sloan’s sake, it wasn’t, but he couldn’t help thinking about his luscious landlady and the until-death-do-us-part vow she’d made to the man she’d loved and lost. Had it been worth the price she’d paid and was still paying?

That thought made him more curious than he wanted to be about Maggie Potter.

* * *

In her office above the Harvest Café, Maggie stared at the spreadsheet displayed on her computer monitor. A few minutes ago the numbers had all looked good, but now she couldn’t tell. Her eyes were starting to cross and everything blurred together.

When her vision cleared, she glanced at her watch and couldn’t believe it was already two-thirty in the afternoon. On top of that, she hadn’t eaten lunch. Downstairs the noon rush was probably over, making this a good time to grab some food.

She took the stairway right outside her office and walked down to the first floor, entering the café through a back entrance into the kitchen. The bowls, plates and utensils in the stainless-steel sink and on food preparation areas showed signs of exactly how rushed the rush had been, and it was good news for their bottom line. Her partner was standing in the doorway between front and back, keeping an eye out for customers.

“My head is about to explode,” Maggie said. “Any chance of getting something to eat?”

Lucy Bishop smiled the smile that could have put her on magazine covers in swimsuits if her career path had taken her in that direction. Fortunately for Maggie, her friend was more interested in business than bikinis. She was a gorgeous, blue-eyed strawberry blonde who was forever being underestimated by men. It was immensely entertaining to watch them swallow their tongues and lose brain function in her presence.

“How about one of my world-famous chicken wraps with the secret sauce?”

“I don’t expect you to wait on me. You’ve been busy, too. I’ll make something myself.”

“Keep protesting,” Lucy said. “By the time you run out of steam I’ll have your order up.”

Maggie heard the words but they didn’t register. Her attention was focused on the sidewalk outside the café and the man who’d just parked his Range Rover in a space out front.

Sloan Holden.

The problem with taking a break from hard work was that there wasn’t anything to distract you from things you’d been deliberately not thinking about. Like seeing this big, strong man being gentle and protective with her daughter that morning. She couldn’t reconcile that man with the one who was a global heartbreaker.

The real question was why she didn’t want to think about him, and the best answer she could come up with was that he unsettled her.

“Maggie?”

“Hmm?” She looked at Lucy. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I’m making you a wrap.” Her partner automatically looked over when the door opened and Sloan walked in. She made a purring sound and said, “Right after I have that man’s baby. Holy Toledo, he’s a fifteen on a scale of one to ten.”

“And he’s my newest boarder.”

“Sloan Holden?” Lucy lowered her voice but turned her back on the newcomer just to make sure he didn’t hear.

“That’s him,” she confirmed.

“You have to introduce me.”

“Of course,” Maggie said, then the two of them walked over to where he stood by the sign that politely asked customers to wait to be seated. “Hi.”

“Maggie.” His gaze slid to her partner. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about the food here and decided to see for myself if the rumors are true.”

“They’re true,” Maggie confirmed. “And that is all due to the culinary skills of my business partner. Sloan Holden, this is Lucy Bishop.”

“Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.

Lucy shook it. “The pleasure is all mine. Isn’t it a little late for lunch? Or is this an early dinner?”

“Lunch. I lost track of time.”

“I always say it takes a special kind of stupid to forget to eat.”

Maggie watched Lucy give him the smile that had made many a man putty in her hands, but Sloan didn’t bat an eye.

“Then, label me a moron because that’s the best excuse I can come up with,” he said.

“You’re in good company.” Lucy met her gaze. “Maggie just surfaced, too, and realized she hadn’t eaten.”

“Then, you should keep me company. I hate to eat alone,” he said. “And we dim-witted workaholics should stick together.”

“Thanks,” she said, “but I’m just going to take something back to my desk.”

“I don’t recommend that.” He raised an eyebrow. “A break from work is food for the soul. That’s just as important as nutrition for the body.”

There was no graceful way out of this, so she was better off just sucking it up. “You’re right. Let’s sit over there.”

The place was empty of customers at the moment and Maggie pointed to a table in a far corner that wasn’t visible through the front window. She grabbed a couple of menus and followed him. He was wearing dark slacks and a pale yellow dress shirt, different from the one her daughter had streaked banana on early this morning.

She was very proud of the way the café had turned out. The interior was decorated in fall colors—orange, gold, green and brown. The walls had country touches: an old washboard, shelves with metal pitchers and pictures of fruit and vegetables. It was cozy and comfortable. But probably light-years from the places Sloan went to.

They sat at a small round table covered by a leaf-print tablecloth. Two sets of utensils wrapped in ginger-colored napkins rested on either side.

After looking over the choices, he met her gaze. “What do you recommend?”

“Everything.” She smiled. “Obviously I’m prejudiced, but even the vegetarian selections are yummy. But my favorite is the chicken wrap. Lucy makes a dressing that is truly unbelievably good.”

“Sold,” he said.

When Lucy came over, they both ordered it and she promised to bring them out in a few minutes.

Maggie was watching Sloan’s face when Lucy walked away and saw the barest flicker of male appreciation. She felt a flicker of something herself and wasn’t sure what to call it. Envy? A visceral response? Whatever the label, she didn’t especially like the feeling and wanted to counteract it.

“She’s really pretty, isn’t she?”

Sloan met her gaze. “Yes, she is.”

“This small town is probably very different from what you’re used to.” Maggie knew that for a fact just from reading tabloid stories about him. “It can be lonely.”

“There’s lots of work to keep me busy.”