Meeting Mr. Right. Deb Kastner

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ

      Vee remembered him as being rather scrawny and easily overlooked in high school, but he certainly made up for that now. Women flocked to the man like pigeons to a piece of fresh bread. He had the build of a magnificent sculpture, every plane and muscle clearly defined, flaunting the many hours he’d spent in the gym—but sadly enough, he knew it. It was no wonder he drew attention to his physical assets—especially since he so clearly lacked anything emotional or romantic to offer.

      “Come again?” she asked, pulling her gaze away from his upper arms.

      “I didn’t add anything. So you see, that’s my secret.”

      Vee didn’t want to react. She definitely didn’t want to encourage him in any way. But how could she not laugh at the utter ridiculousness of the situation? “So let me get this straight. Everyone else adds herbs and spices to the chili to doctor it up, and you, by contrast, just serve it right out of the can.”

      His grin widened to epic proportions. He certainly looked pleased with himself. “Brilliant, huh? I’m not too keen on onions and tomatoes, anyway,” he informed her, making a face like a five-year-old boy being served brussels sprouts. “Give me good, plain beef steak any day of the week.”

      “Or chili?”

      “Or chili,” he agreed with a clipped nod. “I told you I’m a horrible cook. I don’t even trust myself to add things to the food that comes out of a can. I wouldn’t want to subject anyone else to what qualifies as my attempt to make homemade food from fresh ingredients. No doubt what I’d cook up would be nothing short of a blooming disaster—food so spicy you’d burn your tongue to a crisp and your eyes would water until you couldn’t see out of them, or on the flip side, food so bland it’d put you to sleep.

      “If it doesn’t come out of a can or a bottle, I’m helpless. If I lived in a bigger town I’d order takeout every night. As it is, Cup o’ Jo Café and the deli at Sam’s Grocery get a lot of my business. I actually enjoy my shifts at the firehouse because I get to eat decently, something a little bit closer to home-cooked.”

      Vee crinkled her nose. Granted she hadn’t been working here very long, but she wouldn’t classify any of the food she ate at the firehouse as decent. Acceptable at best, and barely palatable at worst. Cans of plain chili might be a promotion from what she was usually subjected to.

      “And I visit my mama every Sunday afternoon,” he added, more as an exclamation than an afterthought. “She enjoys cooking for her son, and naturally I’m keen to eat whatever she makes for me.”

      “Spoiled,” she quipped, but she nodded in approval just the same. He might be a player with the women he dated, but she knew he took good care of his parents, which Vee had to admit was a small mark in his favor.

      Not enough to erase the black smudges, but perhaps a small offset.

      “A little,” he admitted. “But mostly I’m just being a dutiful son.”

      “I’m sure your parents appreciate that, especially your mother.” Her voice cracked a little on the last word, and she scolded herself for being so transparent in front of him. But she couldn’t help remembering how blessed she had felt to have had the chance to spend time with her own family, before her mother’s recent passing. Now her dad kept to himself, and neither she nor her two brothers could help him get beyond his grief.

      Ben regarded her with a thoughtful frown. “I’m so sorry for your loss. It must be difficult for you, losing your mother.”

      “What? No. I mean, thank you. At least I know she’s with the Lord.”

      “Yes,” he agreed. “Your mom’s faith was a real inspiration. But it still must be hard on you, having her pass so suddenly.”

      She didn’t know whether she was more surprised by Ben’s openness or the fact that there was a genuine note of compassion in his voice. She knew he was a churchgoing man, but then, so was almost every man in Serendipity. Attending church didn’t necessarily mean he was a man of faith.

      “It was difficult to lose her,” she admitted, wondering how they’d gotten on such a serious topic—how he’d turned the conversation and gotten her to talk about herself. She didn’t know why she continued, but she did. “It’s still difficult. To be honest with you, I don’t quite know how to respond when someone says they feel sorry for me.”

      She shrugged away the statement, wishing it could be simple to shirk off the turmoil of emotion teetering near the edge of her consciousness. She didn’t like feeling as if she were on the verge of an emotional breakdown all the time. She preferred to keep her feelings locked tightly away.

      “It’s a good thing that you’re close to your family. There’s nothing wrong with that. And despite my loss, I’m still blessed to have my father and brothers, although we don’t get together as often as I’d like now that we’re all grown up and living away from home.”

      “Right. There’s a change in family dynamics when we reach adulthood. How does Cole like the Navy?”

      “Are you kidding? He was born for service,” she said, cheering up a little at the change of topic. Cole was the middle of the three Bishop children, the one who was always causing mischief of one sort or another—often involving his naive little sister and leading her into trouble. Now those days seemed pleasantly nostalgic.

      “Cole was always one of the tough guys, and serving the country in the military suits him. Same with Eli. He was playing cops and robbers from the time he could walk,” she commented of her oldest brother. “I guess it’s lucky for us he ended up on the cop side of the equation.”

      Ben chuckled at her weak attempt at humor. “And you, the firefighter.”

      “Me, the firefighter,” she agreed. “But I never played with matches. No correlation there.”

      “Never?” he asked, a curious gleam in his eye. “Come on. You can admit it. I won’t tell.”

      She gnawed thoughtfully on her bottom lip, wondering how much she should divulge. Was he baiting her, or was this a sincere attempt on his part to be civil? She decided to take a chance on him. A very small chance. “I might have lit a twig on fire...once or twice, when I was little.”

      One side of his mouth crept upward in an appealing half smile, the one that sent the single female population of Serendipity all aflutter. “Now we’re getting to the good stuff. If the fellows here at the firehouse ever learned that you—”

      “But you said—”

      Jerk.

      “Your secret is safe with me,” he assured her. “I’m just teasing. I won’t say anything. Besides, if that’s the worst of your record, I can assure you that you’re lagging far behind me.”

      “Is that right? How so?”

      He returned to his folding chair and leaned his elbows against the long table. His gaze met and locked with hers. “We all have some skeletons in our closets, don’t you think? I’m every bit as human as the next guy.”

      “Really?” Was he sorry for the mistakes he’d made, the way he’d hurt people like Olivia? As far as she knew, he’d never apologized. And even if he had, he’d done some truly callous things in his past, things Vee was СКАЧАТЬ