Stormy Surrender - By Nicole Andrews Moore Page 0,12

hungry for breakfast yet. He smirked as he thought of Keely’s bacon. Maybe he could manage to eat a little something. That thought warmed him so; he barely noticed the chill in the air as he drove to Hope House.

“I don’t do this for everyone,” Keely began, “but since you’re not used to southern cooking, I could make you something else.” She studied Martha for a moment and knew just what to offer. “What about Eggs Benedict?” The slow smile on Martha’s face told her everything she needed to know. “I’ll have it ready in a jiffy.”

Her purpose was two-fold. First, she was desperate to win this bet and the only way to do that was for Joe to see Martha for himself. And second, she knew without being told, that Martha was hurting, and more than anything, she wanted to heal that wounded bird picking at her food in the dining room. She glanced at the clock. If she knew anything, she knew that Joe would be pulling in any minute. Beaming happily, she danced around the kitchen while she made Martha’s breakfast.

The dining room was nearly empty when Joe walked in. Dammit, he had taken too long. He studied the patrons more carefully. There was an older couple quietly enjoying the newspaper while they ate in silence. He shuddered. He never wanted to do that, be with someone and have nothing left to say, eat every meal in silence. Behind them were several of the locals who liked to come have breakfast at Hope House. He shook his head. Over near the window in the seat he usually claimed was a woman. She was staring out the large panes, clearly thinking, and somewhat unhappy. She had long brown hair pulled back into a pony tail, big brown eyes, high cheekbones, and very nice lips. She must have felt him staring at her because suddenly her gaze met his and she looked…confused? It was as though she couldn’t understand why he would look at her. Having been caught, he quickly turned away and headed directly towards the buffet, heart pounding.

Keely caught up with him after she delivered some food to the woman who was sitting at his table. He had forced himself to sit on the opposite side of the room, forced himself to eat when he wasn’t hungry yet; forced himself out of bed when he should still be lying under that warm gray suede duvet. He could feel his face tighten and threaten to twitch.

“So, I missed him?” He asked Keely pointedly. He was too tense to play around.

“Nope,” she smirked, annoying him all the more.

Glancing around the room once more, he realized there really was only one possibility. “Her?” He asked weakly. “The woman who stole my seat owns that vehicle.” Keely was now beaming. “Well, I can tell you this much. She may be driving that SUV, but she sure as hell didn’t buy it.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. Why don’t you ask her?” And with that, Keely turned on her heels and walked back into the kitchen.

The idea had merit. He was never wrong in this game. He was on a winning streak. When it came to character analysis, he was king. How could he have been so wrong? It had been a really long time since he was this wrong about someone’s character, and that time it had been a woman, too. He sighed. Once again he seemed to be wrong on all counts it. This woman didn’t like to be watched. She didn’t want attention. She wasn’t any of the things he imagined as he studied the vehicle. Hell, she probably did care about the environment. He scowled.

For several minutes, he tried to decide what approach would be best. He kept thinking and second guessing himself. Apparently, he waited a moment too long. When next he glanced over, she was standing and exiting the room. As he watched her exit, one thought came to mind: Baby, I hate when you leave, but I sure do like to watch you walk away. A grin broke across his face. Based on what he’d just seen, he could watch her walk away all day.

Breakfast had been an experience. For one, she finally had experienced grits. She had seen them on television and thought they looked disgusting, but now having eaten them…well, her opinion hadn’t much improved. Must be they were an acquired taste. On top of that, for the first time in a long