out of her fantasy to find that Valentine had finished with the napkins and was looking at her with a smile on his face.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“Nothing!” She kept her head lowered so he wouldn’t see her blush as she quickly finished placing the silverware. “I probably better check on the casserole.” She started for the kitchen, but he stepped in front of her and stopped her.
“Reba,” he said in a low, sexy voice that bought up images of their naked bodies entangled in sexual delight on the dining room table. “There’s something you need to know.”
When she lifted her gaze, she discovered him staring at her breasts. Had he been thinking about the same thing she had? “What?” she croaked.
“Your shirt’s on backwards.”
It took her a moment to realize what he’d said. When it finally sank in, she closed her eyes in total humiliation and whispered, “Excuse me” before she fled to the kitchen. Once there, she fixed her t-shirt then stood in the open doorway of the freezer for a few minutes to let her humiliation cool . . . along with her desire.
What was the matter with her? The answer was obvious. She was sexually attracted to Valentine Sterling. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was just physical attraction. But it wasn’t just his good looks she liked. She liked him.
“What in tarnation are you doin’, girl?”
She turned to see Aunt Gertie standing there—minus Rhett Butler. Mealtimes were the only times the cat wasn’t with her aunt. She closed the freezer. “I was just seeing if we had any ice cream for dessert.”
“Well, you better stop worrying about dessert and start worrying about dinner. I smell something burning.”
“Oh, no!” Reba grabbed two oven mitts and hurried to the oven. Luckily, the cheese had only burned along the edges of the casserole dish so she was able to scrape off the burned spots before she carried it into the dining room.
Two of the three new guests had arrived and were sitting talking to Valentine. Mr. Daniels was a round-faced, friendly looking man around Reba’s age who worked as a hotel manager in Dallas. Mr. Peterman was also in the hotel business, but wasn’t nearly as friendly. In fact, he had been rather rude when Reba had checked him in that morning. He resembled a stork with his long neck and beaky nose. When she and Aunt Gertie entered, he was the only man who didn’t get to his feet.
That had Aunt Gertie snorting in disgust. “Strike number one.”
Not wanting her aunt to get rid of another guest, Reba quickly spoke. “Good evening, Mr. Peterman and Mr. Daniels. I’m so glad you both could join us.” She set the casserole on the lazy Susan in the middle of the table. “And you as well, Mr. Sterling.”
Valentine winked at her. “My pleasure, Ms. Dixon.” He pulled out a chair for her.
As she sat down, she remembered the drinks. “I almost forgot to ask if anyone would like something else besides water. Would any of you gentlemen prefer tea or a beer?”
“As I stated in the questionnaire,” Mr. Peterman said in his nasally voice. “I don’t drink.”
Reba looked at him in confusion. “Questionnaire? What question—”
Aunt Gertie cut her off. “Water is fine with everybody. Now sit down, Reba, so the only gentlemen in the room can sit down too.” She shot a mean glare over at Mr. Peterman and held up two fingers. Thankfully, Mr. Peterman was preoccupied with cleaning his fork with his napkin and didn’t notice.
At mealtime, it was Reba’s job to keep the conversation flowing and steer people away from topics like religion, politics, or anything that might cause the guests to be offended or get into an argument. This was much more difficult to do with new guests than it was with guests who had been there awhile. She usually had a few conversation starters ready, but tonight, with Valentine sitting right next to her, her brain seemed to be on the fritz. Once she dished up the casserole, she just sat there like a bump on a log.
Fortunately, Valentine stepped in and carried the conversation with interesting stories about his travels. When Reba was young, she had dreamed about traveling to foreign countries. But once she’d taken over the boardinghouse, there had been no time for dreaming. Valentine’s stories of all the amazing places he’d been brought back her youthful yearning to experience exotic places and foods. It also made her very