Page 105 of Fairy Tale Lies
Jacob jerked back like she slapped him. A painful silence swelled between them. She hurt him. It couldn’t be helped. She had to protect her fragile heart.
When he finally spoke, his question surprised her. “Where are you working? Are you at Swift?”
“No. Detroit Computer Base,” she stammered. “Why?”
“Perfect. I’m taking you to lunch.”
“Lunch?”
“Yes, lunch. You still eat, right?”
“Uh, yes.” His nearness was affecting her, but had she managed to miss an entire conversation? One minute he wanted her back. Now he was asking about food?
Her expression must’ve been a sight because he burst out laughing. “Agree to have lunch with me. Please.”
“What? When? On Monday?”
“Yes, on Monday.” He smiled. “And every day after. Until you agree to more or get sick of me.”
“If I refuse?”
She wouldn’t deny him. She might not be ready to hand him her heart again, might never be, but the lure of seeing him again was impossible to resist.
“I’ll show up each day at your work until you agree. Or,” he smirked, his expression a beautiful mixture of hopefulness and humor, “you have me arrested as your stalker.”
“We can’t have you arrested on my account, again.” She laughed, and that small flower of hope grew stronger.
Chapter Forty-Three
Greta watched Jacob joke with their waitress while she filled their drinks. His deep chuckle was like lava cake: molten hot, smooth, and delicious. From the way the waitress drank him in, she wouldn’t mind a bite.
When he looked away, the waitress snagged Greta’s gaze and gave a woman-to-woman smile before mouthing, “lucky.”
Greta nodded.
Ever since Jacob arrived at her work, she was carefree and light as if she’d won the lottery. Though, instead of money, she was given a pile of bliss.
Corny, yes, and she didn’t care.
He arrived as promised that Monday after the dance club, and every day since, much to the delight of Greta and her female coworkers. They loved to speculate and pepper her with questions about the handsome suitor who’d showed up one slow day, with a sexy smile and a bouquet of riotous flowers.
She didn’t mind the gossip. She was too happy and past caring what others thought.
“How was your mother’s birthday party?” Jacob asked, breaking into Greta’s musing.
She’d been staring, unseeing, at the black and white checkered floor and glanced up at his question. They were at their favorite lunchtime spot, the famous Lafayette Coney Island in Detroit. Jacob dragged his last huge onion ring through ketchup, playing it off like the answer meant nothing. Had he been anyone else, she might have believed the act.
He was too focused on his food, and his shoulders were tense as if waiting for the executioner’s blow.
“The company Nigel hired to coordinate the party was amazing. Though the best was visiting with family I hadn’t seen in years.” She hesitated, tapping her nails on the Formica table, not sure if she should mention her mother’s ongoing relentless crusade. Greta decided to go with complete honesty. “The not-so-great was Mother used the day to play the dating game with every man I wasn’t related to. Heck, she even introduced me to a couple of third cousins.”
Jacob chuckled, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “Not only do I have to compete with most of Michigan’s upper crust, now there are out-of-state cousins. Great.”
She laughed, taking his hand resting on the table, linking their fingers. “No competition. I explained to Mother I have sufficient male attention during my lunch breaks.”
The smile that broke across his face was genuine and exquisite. It made Greta question why she wasn’t back in his arms. In his bed.
“You told your mother we’ve been meeting? What did she have to say?”
