His Hometown Girl. Jillian Hart
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best thing I’ve seen all day.”
Karen smiled breezily. “If you’re really nice to me, I’ll give you the recipe. If you can fix a car, you can learn to make this.”
“That’s a bet I’m not willing to take. If I could cook as good as I can build a transmission, my stomach wouldn’t be growling. I haven’t had a decent meal since my little sister left for college.”
Karen set the plate on the kitchen table. “What have you been eating for the last year?”
“They have these boxes in the freezer part of the grocery store. I buy ’em, take ’em home, and when I’m hungry, put one in the oven. They’re called frozen dinners.”
“Shocking.” Teasing glints lit her eyes and chased away the worry lines across her brow. She tugged flatware from a nearby drawer and set a knife and fork on the table. “Sit. Eat. It’s a wonder you haven’t spontaneously combusted with all the chemicals you’ve been ingesting.”
“It’s not that bad. They’ve got these healthy frozen meals that taste pretty good. But nothing like your grandmother’s cooking.”
“I won’t argue with you about that.” Karen set two soda cans on the table. “Go ahead and get started. I’ll dish up a nice bowl of salad.”
“You’re going to torment me with vegetables?”
“Even a man as handsome as you needs his antioxidants.”
“Antiwhats? That sounds suspicious. Let me guess. It has something to do with broccoli.”
She peered around the edge of the refrigerator door. “What’s wrong with broccoli?”
“It tastes like cellophane, for one thing. As a general rule, I never eat anything green.”
“It’s a wonder you’ve made it this far, Zachary Drake. A tough guy like you needs his vitamins.” She shook her head, golden locks shimmering as she shut the door. “I’ve got a bowl of carrot sticks. Do me a favor and eat a few. Hey, don’t look at me like that. They’re orange, not green.”
“Orange is a good color. Lots of junk food is orange.”
She rewarded him with another smile, one that chased away all the shadows from her eyes and the strain from her face. A smile that made her look like the Karen he remembered. Happy and wholesome, with the kind of beauty that settled in a man’s heart and never faded.
Those are dangerous thoughts, Zach. He tried not to notice the way his skin felt prickly when she sat down beside him.
He bowed his head in a quick prayer and reached for his fork.
Delicious spices and creamy cheese melted across his tongue. “This is great. I’m so grateful, I’m liable to give you the engine you need for free.”
“Don’t you dare, although Gramma will appreciate the compliment.” Karen popped the top of the cola can and sipped.
No ring sparkled on her finger. He couldn’t forget what she’d told him. That she wasn’t going to marry Jay. Ever.
Hope was a bright blessing as the night darkened and he could see his reflection in the white-paned glass of the kitchen’s bay window. And of the woman sitting next to him, her bouncy hair sparkling like pure gold, her presence as sweet as the cut roses scenting the air.
This was definitely something he could get used to. Forget coming home to an empty apartment and eating alone in front of the TV.
A door opened behind him and the hot, evening wind whipped across the back of his neck as Karen’s mother and grandmother entered the kitchen.
“Mom.” Karen bolted out of her chair and circled around the table, her arms extended.
Zach watched as she wrapped her mother in a comforting hug. Mrs. McKaslin looked frail and ashen, but when she glared at him over Karen’s shoulder, she looked as tough as nails.
Mrs. McKaslin didn’t need to say the words. Zach had lived with the same looks from half the town since he was a boy—looks of disdain and judgment. Looks that said he wasn’t quite good enough, even twenty years later. He’d worked hard to become a man of integrity, but he was still Sylvia Drake’s son from the wrong side of town.
“I’m in the way here, Karen.” He grabbed his empty plate and carried it to the sink. “Let me rinse this off and I’ll be on my way.”
“What? No seconds?” Karen released her mother and moved to stop him, her beauty just as bright and her friendship as genuine. “Let me grab the casserole from the fridge and I’ll dish you up another—”
“I’m good, Karen. Thanks anyway.”
“You haven’t had dessert yet.”
Mrs. McKaslin’s gaze grew sharper, and Zach could feel the man he was fade a little. “It’s getting late.”
“Are you sure? Mom, would you mind wrapping up a few of your brownies? If Zach has to go, at least he can take heaven with him.” Karen’s smile shot straight to his heart.
She was heaven.
Good thing she couldn’t read his thoughts. Embarrassed, he set his plate in the sink.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Karen sidled up to him and curled her hand around the hot water tap. “I’d still be sitting on that lonely sidewalk if you hadn’t shown up tonight. Thanks, Zach. I owe you big-time.”
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