Clearly glad they’d no longer be talking, she laughed. “Good.”
“So you play darts at home in New York?”
She rose and followed him to the board hung on a back wall. They passed the quiet pool table, and he pulled some darts from the corkboard beside the dartboard.
“No, I don’t play darts.”
“Great. So we play for money?”
She laughed again. “No! We’ll play for fun.”
He sighed as if put out. “Too bad.”
But as they played, she began to talk about her search for her foster mother’s family. Her voice relaxed. Her smile returned. And Rafe was suddenly glad he’d found her. Not for his mission to make her his friend. But because she was alone. And in spite of her contention that people weren’t supposed to be happy, her normal state was happy. He’d seen that every day at the restaurant. But something had made her sad tonight.
Reminded of the way he had made her sad by saying she wasn’t needed, he redoubled his efforts to make her smile.
* * *
It was easy for Dani to dismiss the significance of Rafe finding her in the bar. They lived in a small town. He didn’t have a whole hell of a lot of choices for places to stop after work. So she wouldn’t let her crazy brain tell her it was sweet that he’d found her. She’d call it what it was. Lack of options.
Playing darts with her, Rafe was kind and polite, but not sexy. At least not deliberately sexy. There were some things a really handsome man couldn’t control. So she didn’t think he was coming on to her when he swaggered over to pull the darts from the board after he threw them. She didn’t think he was trying to entice her when he laughed at her poor attempts at hitting the board. And she absolutely made nothing of it when he stood behind her, took her arm and showed her the motion she needed to make to get the dart going in the right direction.
Even though she could smell him, feel the heat of his body as he brushed up against her back, and feel the vibrations of his warm whisper as he pulled her arm back and demonstrated how to aim, she knew he meant nothing by any of it. He just wanted to be friends.
When their third beer was gone and the hour had gotten late, she smiled at him. “Thank you. That was fun.”
His silver eyes became serious. “You were happy?”
She shook her head at his dog-with-a-bone attitude. “Sort of. Yes. It was a happy experience.”
He sniffed and walked back to their table to retrieve his coat. “Everyone is made to be happy.”
She didn’t believe that. Though she liked her life and genuinely liked people, she didn’t believe her days were supposed to be one long party. But she knew it was best not to argue. She joined him at their table and slipped into her coat.
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
She shook her head. “No.” Their gazes caught. “I’m fine.”
He dipped his head in a quick nod, agreeing, and she walked out into the cold night. Back into the world where her stable fiancé wouldn’t even pick her up at the airport.
WHEN DANI ENTERED the restaurant on Wednesday ten minutes before the start of her shift, Rafe stood by the bar, near the kitchen. As if he’d sensed her arrival, he turned. Their gazes caught. Dani’s heart about pounded its way out of her chest. She reminded herself that though they’d spent an enjoyable evening together playing darts at the tavern, for him it had been about becoming friends. He hadn’t made any passes at her—though he’d had plenty of chances—and he’d made a very good argument for why being friends was a wise move for them.
Still, when he walked toward her, her heart leaped. But he passed the podium to unlock the front door. As he turned to return to the kitchen, he said, “Good morning.”
She cleared her throat, hoping to rid it of the fluttery feeling floating through her at being in the same room with him. Especially since they were supposed to be friends now. Nothing more. “Good morning.”
“How did your search go for your foster mother’s relatives yesterday?”
She shook her head. “Still haven’t found them, but I got lots of information from people who had been their neighbors. Most believe they moved to Rome.”
“Rome?” He shook his head. “No kidding.”
“Their former neighbors said something about one of their kids getting a job there and the whole family wanting to stay together.”
“Nice. Family should stay together.”
“I agree.”
She turned to the podium. He walked to the kitchen. But she couldn’t help thinking that while Paul hadn’t said a word about her quest for Rosa’s family, Rafe had immediately asked. Like someone who cared about her versus someone who didn’t.
She squeezed her eyes shut and told herself not to think like that. They were friends. Only friends.
But all day, she was acutely aware of him. Anytime she retrieved him to escort him to a table, she felt him all around her. Her skin tingled. Everything inside her turned soft and feminine.
At the end of the night, the waitstaff and kitchen help disappeared like rats on a sinking ship. Rafe ambled to the bar, pulled a bottle of wine from the rack behind it.
The Chianti. The wine he’d ordered for them at the tavern.
Her heart trembled. She’d told him she liked that wine.
Was he asking her to stay now? To share another bottle of the wine she’d said she liked?
Longing filled her and she paused by the podium. When he didn’t even look in her direction, she shuffled a bit, hoping the movement would cause him to see her and invite her to stay.
He kept his gaze on a piece of paper sitting on the bar in front of him. Still, she noticed a second glass by the bottle. He had poured wine in one glass but the other was empty—yet available.
She bit her lip. Was that glass an accident? An oversight? Or was that glass her invitation?
She didn’t know. And things were going so well between them professionally that she didn’t want to make a mistake that took them back to an uncomfortable place.
Still, they’d decided to be friends. Wouldn’t a friend want another friend to share a glass of wine at the end of the night?
She drew in a slow breath. She had one final way to get him to notice her and potentially invite her to sit with him. If he didn’t take this hint, then she would leave.
Slowly, cautiously, she called, “Good night.”
He looked over. He hesitated a second, but only a second, before he said, “Good night.”
Disappointment stopped her breathing. Nonetheless, she smiled and headed for the door. She walked to Louisa’s beat-up old car, got in, slid the key in the ignition...
And lowered her head to the steering wheel.
She wanted to talk to him. She wanted to tell him about the countryside she’d seen as she looked for Rosa’s relatives. She longed to tell him about the meals she’d eaten. She yearned to ask him how the restaurant had been the two days she was gone. She needed to get not just the cursory answers he’d given her but the real in-depth stuff. Like a friend.
But she also couldn’t lie to herself. She wanted that crazy feeling he inspired in her. Lust or love, hormones or genuine attraction, she had missed that feeling. She’d missed him. No matter how much she told herself she just