Ain't She Sweet (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers #2) - Whitney Dineen Page 0,43
if you think about it, is pretty close to lettuce.”
“I’m going to go with old-fashioned sounding names when I have kids. You know, like Michael or Anna. How about you?”
I feel strangely uncomfortable talking to James about our future kids. Not our kids together, but even so. “I’ve always liked the names Faith and Jonathon,” I manage to answer.
He looks at the notebook I handed him and asks, “French fries are your favorite food?”
“Anything fried is my favorite food, but fries dipped in ranch dressing is otherworldly. How about you? What’s your favorite food?”
“Peaches,” he answers without hesitation.
“Peaches?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
I shrug awkwardly, unsure of how to answer without hurting his feelings.
“Ah, you think that’s girly, huh? Well, I don’t care. I love peaches and I could eat them every day of my life. If I had to pick one food to be stuck on a deserted island with, it would be peaches.”
“Other than water, what beverage would you pick?” I ask.
He considers the question for a moment before answering, “Milk. Then I could crush my peaches in it and pretend it’s a milkshake. How about you?”
“Coconut water.”
The grimace on his face has me laughing again. “How old were you when you had your first kiss?” Why did I ask that?
“Fourteen,” he answers. “Your turn.”
“Seventeen.” My face heats with embarrassment.
James scoots farther back on my bed and crosses his legs. “That’s an impressively long time.” I can’t tell if he’s making fun of me or not.
“I was in the fashion business. Most of the men I was around were gay or way too old for me. Not that the older ones didn’t have ideas, but my mom was right there to set them straight.” I hurry to change the subject. “What’s your favorite color?”
We spend the next couple of hours getting to know each other better. We both like the color green—Romaine has never been a fan, which is odd because, hello?, romaine lettuce is green—we’re both fans of music from the eighties and nineties, and we’re both addicted to The Great British Baking Show. If it had been a real date, it would have been a very successful one.
At nine o’clock, James gets up to leave, and I wonder if he’s going to kiss me goodnight. Apparently, I’m starting to buy our charade of being a couple. He asks, “Do you want to let Penny go between our rooms tonight?”
“Um, I don’t really want to sleep with my door open,” I tell him.
“I don’t either.” He walks over to the door next to the closet and opens it. “Conveniently, my room adjoins this one. I thought you might like for Penny to come in anytime she wants.”
That would be nice, but if the dog could come in, so could he. He seems to catch the direction of my thoughts and assures me, “It would be for Penny’s use only, not mine.”
I nod awkwardly. My mouth suddenly goes as dry as the lint trap in a clothes dryer. How am I going to get a wink of sleep knowing James is so close?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ruby
The dining room alerts Ruby when Syd Byerly charges his breakfast to his room. She hurries to catch him before he leaves the table where he was seated. Scurrying over to his booth, she arrives just as he stands and takes a final sip of coffee. “I hope you enjoyed your meal,” she says pleasantly.
“It was fine, thanks.” Before walking away, he says, “My waitress told me your pastry chef is a gal named Tara Delaney.”
Ruby raises her eyebrows so high she’s sure they’re nearly touching her hairline. “That’s right. Do you know her?”
“I know a Tara Heinz. I’m wondering if she’s the same girl.”
“What does your Tara look like?” Ruby asks, trying to buy herself some time to slow her heart rate. She never considered Syd Byerly would come right and ask her about Tara.
“She’s tall, thin, and beautiful. She’s in her early thirties.”
Ruby scrunches her face up like she’s deep in thought. “Our Tara is short, and kind of plump. Don’t get me wrong, she’s pretty but she doesn’t sound like the person you’re looking for.”
Syd narrows his gaze. “My Tara’s mother is currently visiting Spartan, which makes me think you might not be telling the truth.”
“Who’s her mother?” Ruby asks, hoping he didn’t hear the tremble in her voice.
“Gwen Heinz.”
“I hired Gwen to help me redesign my gift shop at the lodge. What a small world!”