Page 29 of In This Moment

And they hadn’t even gotten to dinner yet.

Chapter Eight

Graham waited for the hostess to walk away before glancing around. Guac On was located almost directly across the street from the Gazette. It was on the smaller side, like the other storefronts, but they utilized space to their advantage. The bar to the left of the door only seated eight, hightop tables filled the center, and booths on the right. Yellow walls with painted murals of iguanas. Dark hardwood floors.

“Never seen it this empty in here.” There were only a few other patrons. He scratched his jaw. “I get takeout from here a couple times a week.”

“Past the dinner rush.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s almost eight. They close in an hour. It’s a weeknight, too. They’re packed to the gills during lunch and dinner.”

Yeah, he could attest to that. He’d learned to call in his meal ahead of time.

Maria, one of the owners who often took Graham’s orders, came over with a pad and pencil, her salt and pepper hair in a loose bun. “Rebecca Moore. When did you get back in Vallantine?” Her grin indicated friendliness in the inquiry.

Rebecca returned the affection. “Not long ago. I’m so glad you and Juan still own the place. How’s Veronica? I haven’t seen her in ages.”

“Oh,” Maria waved her hand, “so busy these days. She’s in Charlotte now with a husband and a bambino on the way. We’re excited.”

“I bet. Send her my regards.”

“I will.” Maria eyed Graham. “Nice to see you eating with company tonight.” Wink. “You make a good couple.”

Rebecca laughed. “It’s a working dinner, Miss Maria.”

“Mmhmm. What would you lovebirds like to drink?”

Rubbing her forehead, Rebecca chuckled through a sigh. “Strawberry daquiri, please.”

“I’ll have a margarita on the rocks.”

After Maria left, Rebecca studied the menu. “They used to have the best enchiladas. I went to school with their daughter. We weren’t close, but she was cool.”

“I get the enchiladas often.” He pushed his menu aside, already knowing what he wanted, and trying to imagine a younger version of her. “I suspect you were one of the cool girls in high school.”

She eyed him over the menu. “We didn’t have a lot of cliques or tiers of popularity here. Small graduating class.”

He doubted that. The popular part, not the size of her class, but he let it slide. “I don’t know about you, but I could eat my own hand right now.” They’d skipped lunch.

“And my left leg.”

She had the quickest comebacks that either amused or flustered the hell out of him. “Just your left?”

“For now.” Setting the menu down, she leaned forward. “Know what we should do? Write a weekly differing opinion article. Any given topic. Our discussion earlier about ghosts and houses got me thinking.”

He questioned if she ever quit thinking. Though their chats proved how polar opposite they were, he found her mind fascinating. She was always respectful of his opinion and in her counter replies. “You’re a sleep-walker, aren’t you? I bet you talk in your sleep, too.”

She straightened. “Are you saying I talk too much?”

“Not even implied.” They could be arguing about the color blue, and he’d gladly listen. She’d probably conjure ten bullet points he’d never heard of to back her side. He’d only have one…and it would pertain to her eyes.

“Well, I don’t sleepwalk and, that I’m aware, don’t talk in my sleep, either.” Idly, she tapped her fingers on the table. “Haven’t slept with anyone in a hot minute, so I can’t verify.”

Just how long, precisely, was a “hot minute?”

Maria returned with their drinks, then took their order. Rebecca got a steak fajita salad with cornbread and him a taco platter with rice. He couldn’t wait. His stomach was rumbling now that there was no work to focus on.

Distraction was needed, but she jumped the gun on him before he could ask her anything.

“You grew up in Minnesota? Is your family still there?”

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