Page 22 of No Time for Traditions

A good-looking woman who shared his taste in food. That was a rare find. Autumn and most other women he dated simply picked at salads. Or lived off those nutrition drinks from smoothie stores.

“Come on. As promised, I’ll buy you dinner for the skate lesson.” Greg stood and waited for Brittany to stand.

Scott tapped his Apple watch. “It’s seven already? We need to get some dinner to go.”

“You sure you don’t want to eat with us?” Brittany looked at Scott.

“Nah. Scotty needs a bath, and Amber has the early shift tomorrow. Right, honey?” Scott turned to Amber.

“True.” She turned from Scott to Brittany and mouthed “sorry.”

Greg’s heart sank a little. He wondered if Brittany had said something to them about him earlier.

Scott’s family said their goodbyes and gathered their belongings. They headed in the direction of Down Home’s food truck. Brittany watched them walk away and then faced Greg. He couldn’t quite read her face.

“You don’t have to eat alone with me if you don’t want.” Greg kicked at the chair leg with the toe of his boot.

“I’ve already had lunch alone with you, and we survived. Plus, half of Hillside is here. At least, I think they are. I don’t really recognize many people anymore.” Brittany looked around the crowd and then back at him.

“Sure?” Greg moved his eyes from his feet to her face.

She nodded and smiled.

A few minutes later, they sat on a park bench with ribs, pulled pork, and onion rings. Other than ordering onion rings, it felt a lot like a date to Greg.

“So you said earlier you started a business with Jake . . .?” Brittany swayed her head. “Well, you said in the same office as Jake. But what did you do between now and high school?”

Greg wiped sauce from his lips and sighed. What should he say and what should he not? Should he mention Autumn? Nah. Only if she asked about relationships.

“I went to Troy for surveying. Graduated and got a job. It was a nice college town, lots of surveying opportunities. But it wasn’t home.”

“So you decided to come back and start your company?”

Greg shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Are you glad you did?”

“Yeah. I love the freedom of being my own boss. And I’ve had plenty of work so far. Half of it comes from Old Man Puttman, but you know. Whatever.” Greg smirked, and Brittany laughed.

“What about coming back here? Are you glad you did?” Brittany’s eyes moved over him.

His stomach turned as he wondered what she was thinking. “Uh, yeah.” Greg took a bite of his rib and licked his fingers. “You like New York?”

“For now.” Brittany’s eyes dropped to her Styrofoam plate, and she picked at her pork. “I don’t want to be there when I start a family or anything. But it’s good for my career.”

“You always wanted to be an editor?” Greg chewed an onion ring and watched her eat. The way she managed to neatly eat barbecue and baked beans was a real turn-on.

Brittany wiped her mouth and then answered. “Actually, no. I wanted to write.”

“So, why not write?”

Brittany shrugged and picked at her food again. “It’s not that simple.”

“It can be.”

Greg never understood why people didn’t go for what they wanted. Especially when they already possessed the skills to do so. Plenty of people warned Greg not to start a business at twenty-six. But he knew he was a good surveyor and had saved money to buy the equipment he needed. He took a chance, and it paid off.

“My boss really needs me as an editor. I’m good at it, too.” Brittany’s eyes met his. She slumped her shoulders and frowned.

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