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She eyed him over the counter. Was he having a joke? Hadn’t she heard somewhere that Josh Cody had been a sporting star back when he was in high school?

Kev slid in beside them, his wallet in his hand. ‘Now that’s the sort of bare-arsed lie my old gran used to say would bring lightning down on my head, Joshua Cody.’

Josh grinned. ‘Hey, give me a break, Kev. I don’t want Vera to think I’m a philistine.’

He didn’t look even vaguely embarrassed at being called out. The opposite. She watched him pat the old guy on the back and ask him about his prize roses, a subject Kev seemed thrilled to be engaged with. She forgot about the fact she was determined to put Josh out of her head, and instead let her eyes linger on him while he chatted.

His dark blond hair was mussed up. His mouth was quirked in a grin as he looked from Kev over to his daughter who had emerged from the kitchen, pride and amusement clear on his face as he watched her bustle about the café wiping tables.

She felt her resolve to deny temptation waver.Why did he have to be so darned adorable?

‘Did you say something?’

Josh was looking across the counter at her, and that indulgent, affectionate smile was now directed—god help her—at her. Crap. Had she said that out loud?

She cleared her throat and returned to her safe subject. ‘How’s Poppy liked working here this week? She’s certainly earning her wages, she works like a Trojan. Washing dishes, clearing tables …’ She smiled. There was no need to guess where Poppy’s people skills came from. ‘Cosying up to the old timers. She’s a natural.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m impressed. Really.’

Were those tears in his eyes? Holy dooley. Why, oh why, now that she’d declared her vow of non-involvement with anyone, good-looking guys in particular, had she run into Mr Perfect, who went all gooey-eyed when his teenage daughter managed to hold down a job for seven days?

She straightened her spine. She had a kitchen to tidy up, and guests to kindly but firmly shove in the direction of the door. Chattering with handsome men was not on her to-do list.

She cleared her throat and turned to Kev. ‘You’ll be wanting to settle up, I expect, Kev?’ she said, running up his bill and swiping the card he held out to her. ‘See you, Marigold,’ she called over his shoulder, then took a step backwards so this counter chitter-chatter with Josh couldn’t turn into a tete-a-tete. ‘Well, I’m on the payroll too, in a manner of speaking, so I’d best get back to—’

‘Vera.’

She paused. ‘Yes?’

‘About the other night in the foyer, when I was a little forward, and you were a little unimpressed.’

Unimpressed? Wow, that was not the word she’d have chosen to describe the moment when Josh had tried to kiss her and she’d turned her cheek. Dazzled, regretful, thrilled, ashamed … all at the same time.

‘Yes?’ she said, cautiously. She eased out of earshot of Marigold and Kev, who were taking their time wrapping themselves in jackets and patting their pockets for keys and inching at a snail’s pace to the door.

Josh didn’t seem deterred. ‘You want to, I don’t know. Go for a walk sometime? A movie?’

Oh, damn. Damn, damn, damn. Vera had a brief vision of another world, where she didn’t have a court case hanging over her head with the possibility of incarceration. Where her aunt still knew who she was and didn’t need round-the-clock respite care. Where she worked diligently as a newspaper journalist for a benevolent and avuncular boss who valued her worth and didn’t sleep with her then sell her out. Where she hadn’t lost her trust in people and could accept an invitation to a movie with a gorgeous man whenever she damn well chose.

But that fantasy world was just that: fantasy. And her real world was complicated enough without adding a date into the mix.

‘I can’t. I’m sorry.’

‘You can’t? Why not?’

She frowned, and lowered her voice as Poppy moved past with a tray to clear the Joneses’ table. ‘How is that a tactful thing to ask? I can’t, all right, and I don’t need to explain my reasons.’

‘Boyfriend? Husband?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Girlfriend?’

‘None of the above.’

He nodded, as though the information she had given him was what he’d expected. His next comment was definitely not what she was expecting.

‘You’ve got coconut on your cheek.’

‘What?’

He reached a big hand over and swiped his thumb across her cheekbone. She felt it the way she imagined a steer at a cattle station might feel a brand. She reared her head back.