was just repeating something Irma said.” Dena tapped at the paper with one finger. “There’s a small article on Susie. Nothing mentioned about you.”
He kept his back to her. She watched his shoulders stiffen. He added ingredients to the mixing bowl and then picked up a whisk.
“Where the heck is the horoscope in this paper?” Dena asked.
“Classifieds,” Zeke said, and turned to face her. “Why? What do you think yours will say?”
Dena gave a casual shrug. “Maybe ‘you’ll be run out of town by a guy named Rocky.’”
He shot her a quick look, shook his head, and laughed.
She turned to the classified section and found the astrological forecasts.
“Here we go: Some are lucky at finding love today; others will renew or strengthen a commitment. Job recognition is a distinct possibility.”
“What sign are you?” he asked, stirring the blueberries gently into the batter. He flicked a tiny amount of water onto the greased griddle and it sizzled.
“Libra. You?”
“Leo. Read mine.” He dropped spoons of batter onto the griddle.
“Leo? Okay, here it is: It’s a strong day for business affairs, and responsible types will see profits and advances. Be happy to put in the time and success will be yours.” She glanced up. “Oh, that’s fabulous. You’re going to love what I have to say on the art fair.”
Zeke turned around and gave her a skeptical look. “You made that up. Let me see.” He reached across the table and made a grab for the paper.
Dena pulled the paper away and grinned. “I did not—”
“I’ll bet you did.” He waved the spoon around, and dripped batter onto the floor and splattered tiny drops onto the table. Two landed on her forearm. He put the spoon down and made another grab for the paper.
“It’s all about work with you, isn’t it?” he asked.
Dena shook her head. “Nope, you’ve got that wrong—”
“Well, you’re as determined as hell. And look at how you’ve organized the damn coupons.”
“Yeah, I know. Can’t seem to help that.” She straightened a couple of coupon piles, slowly licked the drops of batter off her arm, and looked into his green-hazel eyes with a smile. “Determined…but not about work…I want to stay here.”
Her smile froze when she saw his frown, and she pressed her lips tight. She’d said too much. Would he still turn her away?
Zeke managed to grab the paper, but his eyes lingered on her damp arm for a few seconds. He read the horoscope aloud, and then raised his head. “You’re right. That’s what it says.”
“Pancakes need to be flipped.”
He gave a quick shake of his head and hurried to the stove. She fanned herself with her napkin. She hadn’t meant to lick the batter in a suggestive way, but hey, if it stoked his fire.
A short while later he slid a plate with a three stack toward her, and pulled up a seat opposite hers. He offered butter and maple syrup. Maybe he hadn’t heard what she’d said about staying, because he hadn’t reacted, other than that frown. But he frowned easily.
She cut into the pancakes and took a bite. “Mmmm, Zeke, these are fabulous,” she said, around a mouthful. “The blueberries are huge, and tart, and just the way I like them.”
The man made her crazy. She was even talking with her mouth full. She closed her eyes for a moment and savored the taste.
“So, I guess you’re staying for the morning?” he asked.
She opened her eyes just as he shoved a giant mound of food into his mouth and chewed.
Dena nodded and took another bite. So, he had heard her comment and now made it clear that she couldn’t stay any longer. Darn. She’d find a way. They ate in companionable silence and within minutes they both sat back with happy sighs.
“What should we do first?” Zeke asked, and poured another mug of coffee. “Can I top yours up?”
“Thanks.” Dena slid her mug toward him. “First on the agenda is we go to Posada del Gato Negro and examine the art work.” She smiled. “I love saying that. Love that name.”
Zeke swallowed hard a couple of times, and she saw his Adams apple bob up and down. He picked up his coffee mug and drained it. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
He stood and began to clear dishes.
What had her horoscope said about finding love? Hah. Not likely. She could feel him slip further and further away with every second, as if the ghosts from his past had resurfaced. He must hate that casita. Did