As usual, Vern’s Diner was bustling with a full capacity crowd. Tucker and Emma stood inside for a moment, searching for an empty table or booth. From a few feet away, Tucker felt glances on them.
A woman leaned over to the man who was with her and asked him, “Isn’t that the woman who doesn’t know who she is?”
Tucker could tell that Emma had overheard the comment, too. A shadow passed over her face, and he moved closer to her. “Maybe we should go to Chez Stork up the street. It would be quieter.”
Chez Stork wasn’t only quieter, but a lot more expensive and very elite. There was an aura of intimacy there that Tucker would rather avoid. But he didn’t want Emma to feel uncomfortable.
Emma gazed up at him, her green eyes serious. “Would you rather leave? Just because I’m the talk of the town doesn’t mean you should be.”
“Talk doesn’t bother me.”
Emma nodded to a booth that had just been vacated. “Then let’s get that table before somebody else does.”
Tucker had never met a woman quite like Emma. She was feminine in every sense of the word and yet there was a strength in her that he had to admire. She was so different from Denise. But he put that thought out of his head as they walked toward the booth.
Almost there, Tucker spotted Ben Crowe, his wife Gwen and the nine-year-old boy they were going to adopt, Nathan.
Emma stopped and smiled at Gwen. “Hi, there. How are you feeling?”
“Very big. But I guess that’s to be expected at this stage,” the pretty blonde said with a laugh.
Ben addressed Emma and Tucker. “Coming out to eat was the only way I could get her to stop unpacking boxes.”
Ben and Gwen had lived in her cottage since their wedding two weeks ago and now were moving into Ben’s ranch house. Ever since Nathan had gotten into some trouble with older boys last month, Tucker and Ben had become more friendly.
“Do you need any help moving?” Tucker asked.
Ben shook his head. “Thanks for asking, but we finished up today. Now if I can just convince my wife that she has to take it easy until she has this baby…”
“I’m going to have a brother or sister,” Nathan proudly informed them. “Ben’s going to adopt both of us.”
Ben ruffled Nathan’s hair. “I sure am. And we’d better get going if you want to put the finishing touches on that science project.”
Tucker tipped his hat to them. “Take care. And Gwen, if you need a proper escort to the hospital, just give a yell.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said with a grin.
After Tucker and Emma settled into the booth, Emma leaned toward him and whispered, “We’re giving a shower for Gwen at the day-care center on Monday evening.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.”
Leaning back again, she said, “It was nice of you to offer to help them move.”
Tucker shrugged and picked up the menu, but he could feel Emma’s eyes on him. “What?” he asked when he looked up and she didn’t avert her gaze.
“What do you do for fun?” she asked.
“In my spare time I work on the house—outside work in the summer, inside in the winter. I’m going to drywall the basement, maybe get some exercise equipment.”
“I didn’t ask how you fill your spare time. What do you do for fun?”
“Isn’t fun enjoyment? I enjoy working on the house.”
She shook her head in exasperation. “Fun doesn’t have a goal. It’s just something that makes you laugh and relaxes you and has no purpose except to make you feel good.”
He thought about it for a few moments. “I play poker once a month with some of the guys from the department.”
She waited, but when he didn’t add anything else, she asked, “That’s it?”
“Entertainment’s a little limited in Storkville.”
“But Omaha’s less than an hour away. Do you date?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“That’s none of your business, Emma.” He didn’t want to get into that…not with her. A man dated for two reasons—to get his needs met or in the hopes that the dating would progress into something more. He wouldn’t use a woman simply to meet a physical need, and he didn’t want anything more.
Emma looked hurt by his blunt reply and leaned back against the booth, opening her menu.
An awkward silence fell over them and it lasted throughout supper. Emma commented on the good taste of the fried chicken. Tucker mentioned that the diner had great coconut cream pie. But neither of them ordered dessert. At the cash register Tucker paid their bill and after he received his change, Emma said, “We don’t have to go to the movies, if you have something else you’d rather do.”
He didn’t have something else he’d rather do. That was the hell of it. He liked being with her. “A movie will be good for us both. What do you want to see? The theater here only has two screens, so we don’t have much of a choice.” Tucker mentioned the names of the two movies. One was full of gunfire and bombs, the other was purported to be a romantic comedy. They chose the romantic comedy.
But once inside the theater, Tucker felt as if he’d miscalculated on a lot of fronts. Only about ten people sat in the whole place, and there was an intimacy in the theater that might not have existed in a packed house. Tucker guided Emma to two seats in the middle of the center row. If they were going to have the place practically to themselves, they might as well pick the best vantage point.
Emma folded her coat on the seat next to her, and Tucker did the same with his jacket and hat. When they sank onto the cushioned seats, their arms brushed and they both moved away. Tucker sincerely hoped he could get engrossed in the movie so he’d forget about the woman beside him.
But forgetting didn’t come easy, not when her perfume wafted toward him on a cold draft, not when she looked so delicate and exciting outlined in the shadows. He tried to concentrate on the characters on the screen and their dialogue, but he glanced at Emma often and felt a strange longing to hold her hand. What a ridiculous notion for a thirty-seven-year-old man who’d sown wild oats, gotten married, divorced and sworn off relationships!
His long legs didn’t quite have enough room and after a while, he shifted. But his trouser leg brushed Emma’s skirt, and the charge that jolted through him could have lit up all of Storkville. The few people in the audience laughed from time to time but Tucker was too distracted to let clever quips sink in. And when the couple on the screen had their first prolonged kiss, his shifting had nothing to do with his long legs.
The movie seemed never-ending. Finally the music swelled and the couple on the screen jet-setted into the sunset. Tucker breathed a sigh of relief. But when he looked over at Emma, he saw she was brushing a tear away.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I love happy endings.”
“It’s a shame they’re not true to life,” he murmured.
“You don’t believe love conquers all?” Her eyes were wide with innocent curiosity.
“No. I believe we survive the best we can.”
“Tucker!” she scolded. “Life is about more than surviving.” A certainty in her soft voice enfolded his heart.
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