Page 18 of Love on the Line

“No.” But the scent of them made her mouth water.

“You gotta get one. They’re to die for.” Excitement laced his voice.

Sally nodded. “He’s right.”

Eating pastries didn’t fit in with her plan of a quick escape, but Wyatt obviously wanted her to try one. “Okay.”

After Sally left, Anne pointed to his crutches. “How’s the leg?”

“Better. Amazing what some therapy and a week will do.”

“Why do I have the feeling you push yourself?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

“Because you wouldn’t take the crutches when your friend handed them to you. I think I got your number.” She placed a napkin on her lap. “Let me guess, you hobble out of PT after going to the max?”

“I’m kind of an all or nothing guy. If I’m there, I’m going to make the most of it. Besides, this crutching around sucks, and I want to get off these things.”

“Ah, stubborn and impatient. Your therapist must love you,” she said with a smile so he’d know she was kidding.

“My head’s swelling from all this flattery. Any more and I won’t fit out the door.”

His eyes flickered, and a zap of awareness pinged her. She’d never had these reactions before. Sure, she’d been attracted to men in the past, but never this almost electric energy between them.

He settled his broad shoulders against the back of the booth. “So, you said you teach fifth grade?”

“Yes. I love that age. Trying to get them ready for middle school.”

Wyatt shook his head. “Hormones starting up. That’s a tough job. Hats off to you.”

Sally returned with their drinks and then called over her shoulder as she left, “I’ll grab your buns.”

Wyatt chuckled. “She has no idea how that sounded.”

Anne choked on her tea and willed the image of Wyatt’s mighty-fine-ass out of her head.

His eyes danced with amusement, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She glanced around. Sure enough, four people sitting at the booth across from them stared at her. Two couples, who quickly looked away and whispered to each other.

“What’s wrong?” Wyatt followed her gaze.

“Those people were staring at me, or us. Do you know them?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think so. They look familiar, but I do come here a lot.”

“Oh.” Probably more fans. “I take it you were pretty good at football.”

He paused, coffee mug halfway to his mouth, and grinned. “Segue?”

“It’s just that everyone seems to know you. I mean, if you weren’t any good, then…” Damn. This wasn’t coming out right. Her ears burned.

“I didn’t suck canal water, I guess.” He smiled around a sip of coffee.

“Of course not. I didn’t mean that. I meant…” She fidgeted and blew out a breath. “Darn it. I can’t talk to you.”

He put his mug down. “Why?”

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