Small-Town Hearts. Ruth Logan Herne

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СКАЧАТЬ watched Hannah go with mixed feelings. Volleying words with this guy was easy with others around. Somehow it felt less natural on her own. She busied herself righting a rack of flavored candy sticks that didn’t need straightening, their old-world appeal and low cost an invitation to purchase in bulk.

      The man reached into his pocket and withdrew cold, hard cash, a welcome sight in a retail establishment. He eyed the credit card machine on the counter with a look of disbelief, then turned to her. “You said you couldn’t take credit cards.”

      “And such as this is true, kind sir, two blocks from my place of business, in the middle of the street at break of day.”

      He frowned and moved closer to the counter, giving Megan a clear view of those gray eyes, light in the middle, their color deepening as the iris widened. His straight, dark hair stopped a hint longer than military length, and the square set of his jaw marked him as a man of decision. But in Megan’s recent experience, men of decision quickly pivoted into indecision where matters of forever were concerned, so she wasn’t about to believe anyone’s chin, no matter how delightfully rugged it appeared.

      He angled his head while waiting for her to conclude her perusal, as if accustomed to women sizing him up.

      Totally understandable, considering his appearance.

      She bit down a sigh, put a serene face in place and inclined her head. “But as you bear witness, kind sir, I have a machine of that nature here.”

      “Oh, I see all right.” He let his gaze rest upon her for long seconds, his look inviting challenge. “I think I’m reading you loud and clear, Miss…?”

      “Megan.” She gave a slight curtsy, very much in character. “Megan Russo, in actuality, the proprietor of this establishment and sister to Benjamin, the fine young man who made your acquaintance this morning.”

      His smile deepened. Broadened. He held out a hand. “And I’m Daniel Graham, but my friends call me Danny.”

      “Whereas I am scarce an acquaintance of yours, I shall be delighted to call you Mr. Graham.” She sent him a quick, smiling look over her shoulder as she moved along the counter, hoping he’d follow.

      He did.

      She bit back a grin, wishing this weren’t fun, wishing he weren’t absolutely adorable, wishing she hadn’t been burned twice already and fairly certain that public humiliation was her permanent Facebook status, since that seemed to be how her life rolled these days. Focus, Meg. Ignore the cleft in his chin, the crinkled eyes and that light of awareness. Remember, you don’t know him, and probably wouldn’t like him if you did.

      She paused once she had the counter between them and offered him an expectant look. “How might I be of help to you this day, good man?”

      It had to be wrong to think anyone was this cute, this over-the-top, heart-stoppingly magnetic. Right?

      Danny tried to prevent his reaction, to no avail. She captivated him, plain and simple. The look, the quirky nature, the spunk, the knowing smile. He hadn’t reacted to a woman like this in, well…

      Ever.

      He’d had a variety of relationships over the years, and knew way too many Saks Fifth Avenue-friendly types from his years in Philly and New York, coupled with his regular excursions to Grandma Mary’s sprawling Northeast venues.

      Nothing prepared him for the total impact of this quaintly clad young woman whose eyes held challenge and maybe, just maybe, a hint of cynicism, enough to make him wonder why and how it got there in a locale saturated with small-town goodness.

      He tamped the feelings down, realizing he was simply experiencing a normal, healthy reaction to a new situation because no one in big cities wore quaint, full-skirted gowns made of the sweet calicos his grandmother employed in her quilt making. And the quiet swish of the dress as Megan moved…

      Just made him wish she’d move more.

      He frowned inward and outward, chasing his errant thoughts away. “I’ve come to buy the candy bars I wanted to purchase earlier.”

      She nodded, slid open the door of an immaculate glass display case and withdrew a wicker basket of wrapped bars. She set the basket on the counter. Danny glanced around, noting the layout, and turned back, nodding. “You’ve picked a good location for the chocolate with summer here. This side of your display is shadowed enough to keep the temperature from fluctuating.”

      One sculpted brow arched in quiet accord. “Chocolate is a delicacy, indeed. If one does not take care to manage it with an eye toward temperature control, one can ruin a batch forthwith. And exposure to the sun will gray it, drawing the composition oils to the surface. Most unappealing.”

      He smiled as he withdrew eight bars. “I don’t find a thing in this store unappealing, Miss Russo.”

      She dipped him another curtsy of acknowledgment, having no idea what her antics were doing to his heart. Or maybe she did. He withdrew another four bars just because he needed to do something that didn’t include staring at her.

      “Danny!”

      He turned, saved by the excited lilt of Ben’s voice. Ben charged forth, open and friendly, not a hint of reticence about him. Danny grinned, acknowledging the warmth, the innocence, the inborn effusive nature. He held out a hand. “I told you I’d come back, didn’t I?”

      “Yes.” Ben turned a scolding look to his sister. “See, Meggie? I told you not to be so grumpy. I told you he’d come back. Didn’t I? Huh?”

      She didn’t miss a beat, just turned her head, gave the young man a quick, friendly nod and smiled. “You did, Ben. I knew I should have heeded your advice.”

      “Yes.” Ben nodded, his expression firm. “I know a lot of things, and people should listen to me more.”

      Megan acknowledged that with a calm look of assent. “I would be well-advised to do so. And Ben, I see other customers approaching. Would you be so kind as to take Mr. Graham’s money for his purchases?”

      “I get to handle money? Yes, I’d be very glad to do it, Meggie!”

      She bestowed a gentle smile of understanding on her brother, sent Danny a “gotcha” look that he didn’t think existed in colonial times and moved off to take care of the new customer, the quiet whisper of her dress marking her exit.

      “H-how many candy bars do you want, D-Danny?”

      He laid the bars on the counter. “All of these.”

      Ben shot him a look of pure, unmitigated excitement, an expression that made Danny miss Uncle Jerry even more. So sweet. How he wished he’d taken more time to spend with Jerry those last years. How foolish he’d been to assume anything lasted forever.

      “Twelve!”

      He nodded and handed over two twenties, determined to pay in cash despite the handy machine atop the uncluttered glass counter.

      He’d noticed right off that everything in the shop glowed with cleanliness. She’d gone with a white kitchen setting that embraced the store’s name, the wainscoted walls, window trim, cupboards and drawers all done in a СКАЧАТЬ