Out of self-defense, Emma avoided further eye contact, then asked, “Have you ever been married?” she pressed, mostly because he seemed so reluctant to answer that question.
His lips tightened, forming a straight line. “Once.”
“I see.”
“I doubt that, but it’s okay. It’s something I don’t like to talk about.”
“Most men don’t.” Emma couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
His eyebrows kicked up. “Ouch.”
She grinned. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”
Another silence, then he asked, “How do you like your lemonade?”
“It’s the best.”
“Good.”
Emma cast him another glance. “You haven’t always driven a plant truck, have you?”
He sighed. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said with faked innocence.
“Sure,” he muttered with a down-turned mouth.
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