Page 12 of A Lonely Road
Like a ghost of sensation, I felt Nora’s dark, curious gaze on us and wondered for a brief moment if she thought Sam was my girlfriend. It was juvenile of me to experience a quick burst of warmth at the idea that she might be jealous. I knew that, but I basked in it all the same.
“Hi, Sammo,” I replied lightly. “You know exactly how business is, since I send you regular updates. Want a drink?”
“Something girly, if you don’t mind.” She leaned close and whispered, “Is she here? Your new neighbor? Jesus, Casey told me exactly how she took that asshole down last night. I want to meet her. Introduce me? Pleeeease?”
Rolling my eyes, I mixed her up a Blue Lagoon and topped it with a tiny umbrella. I slid it across the counter and served another patron a beer before coming out from behind the bar. Sam trailed behind me like an eager puppy. Nora had turned her focus back to her computer and didn’t notice our approach.
“Nora,” I said cautiously. There was a lightning-quick flash of alarm in her eyes at the interruption, but it was gone before I could be sure I’d seen it. “If you have a minute, my sister would like to meet you. Samantha Lincoln, Nora Cassidy. Nora, Sam.”
Nora’s features eased into an expression of polite interest. When she immediately held out her hand to Sam, I frowned a little, but Sam shook it quickly and settled into the bench across from Nora, leaving me no time to ponder. My sister launched straight into the kind of chatter that had driven me up the wall when we were teenagers, so I shot Nora an apologetic grimace before I went back to the bar.
Sam laid claim to the same color hair as mine, though hers was highlighted with a pale golden blonde, and her eyes were more gray than blue. As always, my twin spoke at a startling speed; from behind the bar, I watched as Nora closed her laptop and tried to follow along. Just when I started to feel like I ought to rescue her from my chatterbox sister, a rush of customers crowded around the bar and my opportunity was lost.
By the time they moved on, Nora sat alone at the booth once more, looking utterly bewildered. She rubbed her temples and was staring blankly at the laptop screen when I finally managed to return. I slid into the seat my sister had vacated, setting a fresh glass of root beer before her as a token of penance.
“Sorry about that. She’s like a force of nature. I’ve learned to just let her roll on through, because it’s easier than trying to contain her. I hope she didn’t say anything too outrageous.”
Nora snorted, a gloriously unladylike sound that made me grin. “It’s fine. I haven’t been forced into anything resembling girl talk in a long time. She was very . . . nice.”
I raised a brow. “Nice. Huh. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone call Samantha ‘nice’ before.”
“Ouch,” she said with a laugh, a hint of teasing in her tone that drew my focus straight to her face.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her expression, animated now in her amusement instead of so carefully controlled. Her laughter was as captivating as it was unexpected. For once, my presence didn’t seem to dampen her reaction. I took that as a good sign.
With a mischievous smirk, Nora added, “Then I guess I won’t tell you all the flattering things she said about you.”
At that, I leaned forward and smiled in an attempt to cajole her. “Aw, c’mon, now youhaveto tell me.”
For a heartbeat, Nora seemed frozen in her seat, like she was battling the instinct to lean toward me in response. I hoped she found me as magnetic as I found her, anyway. In the end, shesat back against the vinyl of the booth instead and let her gaze wander over me before she replied.
“According to your sister, you’re quite a catch. Thirty-three years old, fit, smart, most definitely single—she made sure to mention that fact at least seventeen times in the course of three minutes—handy around the house and good with cars.”
“Why, Nora, you’re making me blush,” I drawled.
She rolled her eyes, then held up her fingers to tick off each point as she listed the rest. “You don’t smoke, don’t drink to excess, have a good head for numbers, and you’re respectful with the ladies, though she mentioned you keep yourself too busy to date much. I didn’t catch if you’re a religious man, but it does seem like you’re in the running for sainthood.”
Sam might have said those things, but hearing Nora recount them sent tendrils of heat along my veins.
I covered my face with my hands and groaned to hide my reaction. “Oh my god. Now I’mreallysorry I sent her over here, especially after last night. Please, let me make it up to you.”
Nora’s eyes widened a little, though whether in anxiety or excitement, I wasn’t sure. “That’s really not necessary,” she replied.
The protest sounded weak, so I gathered she was too curious about what I might lay out in reparation to put any force behind it. There’d be time enough for her to shoot me down afterward, I’d make sure of it. Still, it felt like the perfect opportunity to make the offer without her feeling pressured to accept.
“Please consider it, Nora,” I said as my hands dropped to the table. “Lady’s choice: I can fix up that fan belt that makes your little car sound like a baby werewolf howling at the moon every time you start the engine, or I can take you out to dinner. Someplace that isn’t here.”
This was a risk and I knew it, but if she gave any sign that she wanted me to back off, I would. I was intrigued by her calculating expression as she weighed the options. In truth, I wasn’t sure which one sounded better to me—either would be a step forward, however small.
“That sounds like you’re offering manual labor versus an actual date. What part do I play in this little scenario if I choose the car repair?”
A slow smile crept across my face. “Well, I suppose you might have to bring me a cold bottle of soda while I’m working. Maybe hang out, pass me a few tools, that kind of thing. You’d be doingmea favor, really. I’ve been itching to get under the hood since you pulled up.”
The unintentional innuendo had her dark gaze jerking to meet mine, and I was temporarily distracted by the rising flush in her cheeks. Her lips parted but no words came out. My stomach bottomed out as I realized what I'd said.
“The hood of your car, I mean. Because of the noise,” I fumbled.
Despite the blush rapidly spreading under her skin, Nora choked back a laugh at my attempt to smooth things over. Before replying, she tapped her chin thoughtfully for a minute.Unlike my sister’s long, always-painted nails, Nora’s were unpolished, trimmed short and neat. Like the rest of her, they struck me as refreshingly natural, effortlessly beautiful.
