Page 57 of To Have and to Scold

I tug her close. “Sure thing. But is that all you’d need me for?”

She looks down at her intertwined fingers and she sways from side to side. “I’m sure I could think of other things, too.”

I pause. I do not want to take her home yet. “Want to get some food?”

“My stomach is practically eating itself right now, so the answer to that is yes.”

“Were you too busy to eat today?” I ask her.

“No.” She laughs and scrunches up her nose. “No, I ate plenty. I think the relief of Mayor s’s tour being over is making me feel half starved.”

“Well, then, let’s remedy that.” I rotate and step off the porch and she joins me on the sidewalk.

“What’s even open? Besides the grocery store deli? I know Willow Cove tends to shut down early.”

“Once the tourists are out in full force next week, things will stay open longer. You want to hit up Witty’s Diner? Or do the memories of the llama spit make that a no-go?”

She blanches and sends me a look. I chuckle. “Got it. I know of another place.”

Sullivan’s has the best hush puppies in the state, so we drive there, walking in just before it closes. I introduce Dallas to the owner, Laird, and apologize to him about arriving so late, but he says he doesn’t mind. We’re seated in the corner, having the entire place to ourselves.

She only takes a moment to look over the menu and orders the breakfast for dinner option.

“Add two orders of hush puppies to her order, and some chowder and sauteed carrots,” I say.

“Carrots?” she says with her brows in the air. “Thank you for adding some nutrients to my meal for me.”

“I’m not being noble. They’re cooked in butter. They melt in your mouth.”

“Can’t wait.” She leans in. “Give me all the butter.”

I order my meal and manage to turn the conversation around to work-related topics until the server brings out the food. As Dallas tucks into her waffles, I realize I really like watching her eat.

Great. Just when I’d managed to focus on the safe topic of work, I’m back to thinking about Dallas’s mouth.

“What?” She chews rapidly, swallows, and then grabs her napkin from her lap. “Do I have something on my face?” She rubs at her mouth with the napkin.

I bump out a laugh. “No, you don’t.” I can’t help but grow sober and before I say anything more, I take a sip of my drink.

Her lips twist to one side. She knows what I was thinking…or at least some version of it. She noticed I was staring at her. I’m both embarrassed and emboldened by the thought.

“Do you see yourself staying in Willow Cove a long time?” she asks.

I sigh and give a slow smile. “Yes, I do. My family’s all here and business is steady. More than steady. We’ve seen a lot of growth the last couple of years. Besides, I like the thought of raising my family where I was raised.”

She hesitates but smiles. “I like that. That stability is admirable.”

I can tell there’s something more on the tip of her tongue, but she keeps quiet.

“Tell me about Atlanta,” I say. “What do you love about it?”

“It’s home. Or rather, Duluth is.” She focuses her gaze on her food. “I love Shorty Hollow Park and the corn pudding from Smokejack. I don’t love the heat—my genes are more suited fortundra life in Greenland than Georgia. But I love the fall colors there. The people in the neighborhood where I grew up? You’ll never find anyone more hospitable and kind.”

“You looking forward to going back?” I dread her answer.

She hesitates. “Yes and no. I left under…less than ideal circumstances. So I’m anxious to get back and right the wrongs, you know? But I like it here, too.”

“Less than ideal circumstances? That sounds rough.”

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