Page 27 of Tattered and Torn

His far from casual question catches me off guard. Surely he’s not asking me to have dinner with him … not as in a date.

“Come on,” he says. “You’ve got to eat sometime, right?”

“Well, yes.” And I am getting rather hungry.

“Then join me.” He nods to a corner table that’s out of the way of the main foot traffic. “There’s a quiet table. We can relax and have a nice dinner.”

“Okay, but I don’t have long.” I motion to the table in question. “Why don’t you have a seat while I go get our dinners?”

“Perfect,” he says.

I bring out the PLEASE SEAT YOURSELF sign so we can keep the line moving.

This isn’t a date, I remind myself as I head for the kitchen. We’re just two people sharing a table. He didn’t actually ask me out. The sheriff seems like a great guy, and he’s very good-looking, but if he did ask me out, I’d have to say no. It’s not that I’m uninterested in him—it’s just that I’m more interested in someone else. I wouldn’t want to muddy the water while I’m hoping for a chance to get to know a certain someone else better.

I return to our table with a tray laden with two plates of pot roast, a basket of warm dinner rolls, and two side salads. “What would you like to drink?”

He smiles. “I’ll stick with a soft drink since I’m still on duty. But you have whatever you want.”

I fetch Cokes for both of us, along with some fresh butter.

“So, what did you think of the farmers market?” he asks me as we both dig in to the pot roast. He takes his first bite. “Gabrielle, this is fantastic.”

“Thanks. As for the market, it was quite impressive. I definitely think I’ll be a regular customer.”

“Good. I’m glad. How are you liking Bryce? I realize you’ve hardly been here long enough to form an opinion.”

“I like what I see so far. Everyone’s been very friendly. And it’s nice that I already have friends here.”

“Right. Hannah and Killian. You knew them from Chicago, didn’t you?”

“Yes. And I met Maggie and Jennie and Ruth yesterday. I hope to add them to my friends list as well. And John, of course. He’s been a huge help to me.”

“Ah, yes, Burke. He’s an interesting character, isn’t he? Speak of the devil, here he is now.”

I turn to spot John standing at the host podium. Despite the PLEASE SEAT YOURSELF sign I posted at the podium, he doesn’t seem inclined to do so. Instead, he’s looking our way, his expression flat. “Excuse me,” I say to Chris. I jump up and walk to the podium. “Hi. Want some dinner?”

John shakes his head. “No. I’m—uh, looking for Killian.”

“I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen him. Would you like to eat something? The pot roast turned out really well. And there’s warm apple crisp with caramel sauce for dessert. Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” I nod toward the table I’m sharing with Chris. “You’re welcome to join us. We have plenty of room.”

John glances over at Chris and frowns. “No thanks. I’m not hungry.” Then he meets my gaze once more. “I should go.” He turns to leave.

“John, wait!”

He pauses, glancing back at me. “You should return to your table, Gabrielle. Your food’s gettin’ cold.” And then he walks out the door without a backward glance.

As I watch him walk away, I feel an odd hollowness in my gut. I feel guilty, like I just hurt him. Or betrayed him. But that’s impossible. We hardly know each other. And we don’t have a relationship—not that kind anyway. Not that I wouldn’t be interested, because I think I would. But we’re not there yet. So, why do I feel so guilty that he saw me eating with Chris? We’re not on a date. We’re just two people sharing a table at dinner. Crap.

I glance over at Chris, who’s waving me back to our table. I return and glance down at my half-eaten meal. My appetite is gone. “I’d better get back to work. Poor Tammy is doing it all. Thanks for stopping in, Chris. Don’t forget to save room for dessert. I’ll have Tammy bring you some.”

Oddly enough, he stands as I make ready to leave. “It was great seeing you, Gabrielle. The meal is fantastic. Thank you. I—I was wondering if I could take you out sometime. Anywhere you want to go. There are some great restaurants in Estes Park. Have you been there?”

My skin tightens, and I feel a chill as I swallow against a sudden knot in my throat. “Chris.” Why didn’t I see this coming? Suddenly, I feel a bit queasy. I’m never any good at turning someone down. “Thanks for the offer. That’s very kind of you, but I’m not—I mean—I just moved here. I’m focusing on my new job, and I don’t really have time to date. But thanks anyway.” I turn to leave, then turn back. “Have a nice night.”

When I return to the podium, my pulse is racing. I feel terrible for turning Chris down. He really seems like a wonderful guy.

Fortunately, I’m distracted when Maggie Ramsey and her family walk in. She’s accompanied by her sexy lumberjack of a husband and two handsome teenage boys. The little baby girl’s asleep in a car seat hooked over Owen’s arm.

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