Page 25 of Engaging with Her Enemy

“Don't say anything about it. That feels like a million years ago. I'm glad you're back and safe and here to teach me accounting.” She turned around, her head tilting back to meet his stare. Every single ounce of willpower cranked through his system, keeping his hands by his side instead of reaching for her and pulling her close.

Her pink lips parted with a sigh, and her voice had a breathy quality to it. “Do you want some coffee?”

No. He wanted her. “Yes.” Running a hand over his head, he turned and grabbed the book from the table. “I'll head into the living room.” How had he managed to survive in high school? He’d liked the girl. Hugged her. Held her hand. But now he wanted the woman. He wasn't interested in a limited, four-week relationship. Once he had her, he had no plans to let her go.

* * *

Four more cakesand two dozen cookies. Hauling the boxes in from her car, one at a time didn't typically bother Becky. But today, with the one-eighty turn Mother Nature threw at Georgia and a nasty freezing March rain, she'd managed to slip twice, saving a box of cookies and destroying one cake.

“Here.” Drew Canton reached out as she started to step back to her car to try again with the cake. “Let me help. My boots have a little more traction than yours.”

She peeked out from underneath her rain jacket. Drew's smile always produced a small dimple on his left cheek. “Thanks. I hate the rain. And the cold.” And yes, she realized she bitched about the heat and humidity as well.

“Basically, you hate today.” He flashed his dimple again, grabbed the last two boxes, and followed her inside the diner. He shook the water from his hair, the dark hair falling over his forehead. Like a model. Pretty boy is what Cameron called him, and not in a flattering way.

She began to take her rain jacket off, and he was there, helping her out of it. “Thanks. I should be lucky the fates put you in the right place at the right time to help me this morning. Can I get you some coffee?”

He hung her jacket up on the coat rack near the door. He was shorter than Hudson. Wider too. Reminded her of a linebacker but cute.

Drew crossed his arms over his chest, and she realized too late she'd been staring at him. She tried to cover it up. “Coffee?”

There went that dimple again. “I'd like the coffee,” he began, taking a step toward her. “And I'd like to ask you out on a date.”

Date. The question hung in the air between them a few moments before he sat down on a stool at the counter, turning to face her. “Unless you're already seeing someone.” He raised his eyebrows at her delay in answering.

Hudson. The first name, face, shoulders that came to mind. They had nothing between them. Nothing formal. A friendship that could easily cross the line to more if one of them made a move. But he was determined to stay in the friend zone. She appreciated it, too. Appreciated the support he'd given her.

“No. I'm not seeing anyone.” Her stomach hurt with the declaration. And then with the acceptance of the date. Drew grinned, planned to pick her up at seven on Friday, and promised her a good time before leaving her alone in the diner.

“You made that boy sweat, takin' so long to answer him.” Ron held the kitchen door open.

“I know.” She pulled her hair down from the ponytail before flipping it into a messy knot on top of her head. Her hair seemed to protest cold, wet days, too. “I don't really know Drew all that well.”

“You don't have to date people you know. I think that's the point of dating.”

Becky shrugged and picked up the first box. “Should be interesting. We're not going to Rhonda's, so at least I'll have something new to choose from to eat.”

“Ah. He's taking you to the big city. That's nice of him.” Ron moved past her and picked up another box. “Try to enjoy yourself. At least it's not that other guy. Can't stand him.”

“Tommy? Yeah, you tell me that each time he shows up here.”

Ron set the cake boxes on the counter in the kitchen before resting a hand on her shoulder. “Becky, you are like a daughter to me. I only want you with the best. And Tommy falls miles short of that benchmark.”

He did.

Hudson didn't.

But Hudson lived in Atlanta when he wasn't on the road. Drew was here. She took a solid breath and began to unwrap the cakes that had survived. She could at least enjoy herself with Drew and try not to think about Hudson every minute of the date.

“All but this box of cookies is for Nash and his store. He said he'd swing through and get them later today.”

Ron set them on a table near the back of the kitchen. “What is the last box for?”

“You.” She punched him lightly on the arm. “For being such a good, non-Dad.”

“Seeing as your folks live over in Mississippi now, I figure someone has to watch out for you.” Ron opened the box and snagged a cookie. “But I appreciate the cookies.”

Her parents left a few years ago, out to Mississippi to help take care of her grandmother. But Statem was home for Becky. She'd committed to taking over the diner and didn't have any plans on changing her mind.

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