the fact that he now sells kitchen appliances in Stamford. Not major appliances either. I mean like blenders and toaster ovens.”
“I like a good toaster oven.”
She laughed as he turned into a parking lot. “The Willows—nice choice, Carter. The food’s always good here. Laurel worked here as pastry chef before we started Vows, and for a while after when we were getting off the ground.”
“I didn’t know that. I haven’t been here for a couple months, but the last time I came with—”
“Corrine.”
“No.” He smiled a little. “With a couple of friends who set me up with a blind date. Very strange evening, but the food was, as you said, good.”
He got out of the car, started to walk around to open her door. But she climbed out before he got there. When she held out a hand to him, casually, his heart took a quick, extra, thump.
“Why strange?”
“She had a voice like a violin might have made if you neglected to rosin the bow. It’s an unfair observation, but pretty accurate. Plus she’d recently gone on a no-carb, no-fat, no-salt diet. She ate an undressed salad, one leaf, one sprig, one carrot curl at a time. It was disconcerting.”
“I eat like a horse.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“You watch.”
Just as they reached the door, it opened. The man who stepped out wore an open coat, no hat, gloves, or scarf. The wind immediately kicked the dark hair around his ridiculously handsome face. One glance at Mac had his well-cut lips curving, and his sea-at-midnight eyes lighting.
“Hey, Macadamia.” He hoisted her up by the elbows, smacked a kiss to her lips. “Of all the gin joints in all the . . . Carter?” He dumped Mac back on her feet, shot out a friendly hand. “How the hell are you?”
“I’m fine, Del. How are you?”
“Good. It’s been too long. What’re you two doing here?”
“We thought, since we’re told they have food here, we’d eat.”
Del grinned at Mac. “That’s a plan. So you’re having dinner. Together. I didn’t realize you were an item.”
“We’re not,” they said together. Then Carter cleared his throat.
“We’re having dinner.”
“Yeah, that’s been established. I had a quick business meeting over a drink, and I’m meeting some friends across town. Or I’d come in and have one with you, and cross-examine the witnesses. But, gotta go. Later.”
Mac watched Delaney Brown jog toward the parking lot. “Who was that guy?” she asked, and made Carter laugh.
As she slid in, Mac wondered if Carter had requested a corner booth, or if they’d just gotten lucky. It added just a hint of intimacy to play against the upscale casual tone of the restaurant. She turned down the offer of a cocktail in favor of wine with dinner, then ignoring her menu, turned to Carter.
“So, the salad-eating squeaky violin. No follow-up?”
“I don’t think either party was interested in one.”
“Do you go on many blind dates?”
“That was my first and last. You?”
“Never. Too scary. Plus, the four of us made a pact, years ago, never to try to fix each other up. It’s worked out for the best. So, are you interested in sharing a bottle of wine, Dr. Maguire?”
He slid the wine list toward her. “You pick.”
“That’s brave of you.” She opened it, scanned. “I’m not a wine buff, I just take pictures of them, but they do have this Shiraz I like.”
Even as she spoke, their server stepped to the table with a bottle of Shiraz.
“That’s excellent service,” Mac commented.
“Mr. Maguire? Mr. Brown phoned and would like you to have this with his compliments. Or, if it doesn’t suit, whatever bottle you’d like.”
“Those Brown kids.” Mac shook her head. “They never miss. I’d love a glass, thanks. Okay?” she said to Carter.
“Sure. That was awfully nice of him.”
It was, Mac thought, as well as a subtle little wink. First chance he got, she knew, Del would be teasing her brainless.
SHE DIDN’T EAT LIKE A HORSE IN CARTER’S ESTIMATION, BUT she didn’t pick her way through a lonely salad for ninety minutes either. He liked the way she gestured with her wineglass or with her fork as she talked. And the way she stabbed a bite of his sea bass from his plate to try it without asking if he minded.
He wouldn’t have, but not asking was . . . friendlier.
“Here, take a hunk of this steak.” She cut off a portion.
“No, I’m fine.”
“Do you eat red meat?”
“Yes.”
“Just try it. It’s like we’ve got the surf and turf thing going.”
“All right. Do you want