Finding His Lone Star Love. Amy Woods

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СКАЧАТЬ her scholarship at the university to take care of Shiloh.

      Shiloh. Lucy checked her watch and stood up from the table. She needed to meet her niece at the bus stop soon.

      “I’m sorry to cut this short, Mr. Haynes—Sam—but I have to head out and meet my niece. Would it be possible for you to meet me here in the morning? I can get James to show you the ropes for breakfast. He’s the dishwasher for the early shift, but he usually puts out a small spread for morning visitors and for the volunteer docents and other employees—nothing fancy or complicated. Muffins and fruit and coffee—that sort of thing. Then, later, if you decide you’d like to stick around a bit, we can talk about working out a menu and deal with the shopping. I hate to do it, but we may have to close the café if we can’t work something out. And I can’t thank you enough for your help today.” Lucy met Sam’s eyes and noticed their hazelnut color for the hundredth time since they’d met only a short while earlier. It was silly, really, how much trouble she had focusing with him around.

      “Don’t mention it again,” Sam said, that warm smile causing both his face, and Lucy’s heart, to light up. “I’m glad I could help. And of course, I’d be happy to help with breakfast in the morning. Should I arrive at seven? I noticed the café opens at nine.”

      It was almost too good to be true. Lucy didn’t trust those kinds of things, but did she really have another choice at this point?

      The answer was obvious. “Seven is good,” she said, running a hand through her bangs, which likely only caused further frizzy disarray.

      “Let me walk you to wherever you’re heading, Ms. Monroe. I’d really like to see the grounds if you don’t mind. Get more comfortable with the place.”

      Lucy hesitated. Shiloh would be happy to see she’d brought someone along with her; it seemed the nascent social butterfly was friendly with just about anyone but Lucy lately.

      “All right, that’s fine,” she said, checking her watch again. “I’ve got a few minutes.”

      Sam held the back door open for her, and Lucy followed him out of the café, locking up behind her. Tessa mouthed goodbye from inside the window with a wave and a sneaky smile, which Lucy promptly ignored. Her friend headed back to the front desk, where she supposedly worked once in a while when she wasn’t busy pestering Lucy.

      She and Sam walked a few areas of the grounds, Lucy naming the telescopes for him. Bless him; he didn’t seem bored by her explanations of the different mirror and dome sizes and how the giant instruments deciphered light from distant stars.

      She stopped talking and looked at Sam, embarrassed. “I’m sorry if I’m going on and on. I just love this place. And I like to see other people show interest in space. We have so much to learn from the galaxies out there. There’s a whole world beyond our own, and I just need to know as much as I can about it. I can’t get enough.”

      Sam stopped and turned toward her, searching her eyes. For what, she didn’t know.

      “Am I rambling too much?” she asked, heat rising to her cheeks.

      “Absolutely not,” he said, his eyes reassuring. He seemed to be telling the truth from what Lucy could tell, which she admitted wasn’t much. She wasn’t used to interacting one-on-one with men who weren’t employees at the observatory. And, though she loved the scientists, they were a different breed altogether—one she understood, at least, thanks to her dad. “It’s nice to see a woman who’s passionate about her work. I feel the same way about my own.”

      Lucy grinned, his compliment holding more weight than it should. “Did you always like to cook?” she asked, hoping to guide the conversation away from herself. She wasn’t sure she could take much more of Sam’s intense gaze on her. It felt as if he could see straight through her skin and bones and right down to her rapidly beating heart.

      An emotion that Lucy couldn’t identify crossed Sam’s face, before passing just as quickly as he looked away, and she found herself wanting to ask him what he’d just been thinking of. She reminded herself that she barely knew him. She didn’t trust the way she was able to talk to him so openly, and the way she felt almost as if they’d known each other for ages.

      She needed to focus on the facts.

      Guys like Sam didn’t go for girls like Lucy.

      It was that way in high school, and that way still. Some things in life didn’t change. She’d learned to live with that and most of the time she was pretty happy with the way things were—or at least...comfortable. She refused to get her hopes up just to have them smashed back down.

      “Yes, I came to love cooking, once I figured it out,” Sam answered.

      “What do you mean?”

      “Well, growing up, I always thought that you had to have a recipe, and that’s just not my style. I got a job as a sous-chef, by chance really, and once I started practicing and playing with food, so to speak, I realized that it’s more of an art than a science, and I was able to put my own spin on things. I started creating my own dishes and experimenting with different ingredients just to see what I could come up with. That’s when I realized that cooking is actually a lot of fun. It can be a way to express yourself just like any other art form,” Sam said, his eyes lighting up as he talked about his work.

      Lucy understood what he meant about experimenting with things, but expressing herself was another animal altogether, for which she shared no familiarity.

      “So did you start the job straight out of high school?”

      “Actually, no. I worked in restaurants while I went to college. I studied anthropology, of all things. Mostly because I couldn’t decide what else to concentrate on and, well, what’s more interesting than people? So I settled on that.”

      Lucy could list many things more interesting to her than people. She preferred her stars and planets. Their mathematically calculable rules and patterns made more sense to her than those of human beings, but she decided to keep that to herself. The last thing she wanted to do was offend Sam.

      “Did you enjoy it?”

      Sam laughed and shook his head.

      “The school part, no, not really. I was more of a goof-off. I didn’t spend a whole lot of time in class.”

      “Ah, I know the type,” Lucy said. She’d known plenty of guys like him, had been made fun of by more than a few, and she’d formed an opinion of them early on.

      “What do you mean?”

      “You know, I just mean, well, it’s just that—” Lucy tugged at her glasses, suddenly nervous and tongue-tied “—guys like you...” She stopped talking before she said something off-putting.

      “Guys like me?” Sam abruptly stopped walking and faced her. “I just met you, Ms. Monroe, and, forgive me, but you don’t know enough about me to be able to size me up and categorize me with other men you’ve known.”

      He was right, and Lucy blushed at his surprisingly blunt correction. She didn’t know what to say so she kept silent and just kept walking.

      Sam caught up to her but he was quiet, and when she stole a glance his way, his brows were knitted and he seemed lost in his own thoughts. Lucy was surprised at how strong the urge was for her СКАЧАТЬ