She grabbed a cart and wheeled it down the spice aisle. This store was bright, with wide, well-stocked aisles. They had a surprisingly good collection of spices and fresh items. She loaded up and checked out. When she came out, she spotted the big red truck, Luke at the wheel, his hat tipped back on his head. He pulled forward, stopping in front of her.
“You find what you needed?” he asked as he opened the back door of the truck, and she settled her bags on the floor.
“I did. They’ve got a lot in there. Just out of curiosity, if I need to order anything, where is it delivered?”
They got in and shut the doors. He put the truck in gear. “Schaffer’s—the general store—is where all Silver River deliveries go. Couple times a week someone goes in and gets the mail from the post office and anything that gets delivered. Hungry?”
She hadn’t realized it until right that moment, but yes, she was. “Yes.”
“There’s a good little diner up here. That okay with you or would you rather do a drive-through?”
She laughed. “I can’t think of the last time I ate at a drive-through.”
He arched a brow in her direction. “Food snob much?”
She shook her head. “Not so much. Just too busy to bother.” It was true. It was also true she’d never left the restaurant hungry.
That thought gave her a little twinge.
“Well, this place has great burgers,” he said. “And it won’t take long. I know you need to get back.”
He pulled in the parking lot of a dingy-looking building. The flowers had clearly not been watered in weeks and the blacktop was cracked and weeds grew through them. Luke gave her a full-on grin, and it stole her breath how it transformed his face. Even with the dour expression he usually wore he was handsome. But the smile was something else. “Don’t worry. Trust me, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, and got out of the truck. The day was starting to heat up. She took her sweatshirt off and tied it around her waist and followed Luke to the door.
Inside it was every bit as small as it looked from the outside. Eight booths and four tables made up the whole place. Three of those were occupied. The floor was cracked vinyl, but clean. The booth the waitress led them to was slightly sticky in the way all diner booths seemed to be, and while it, too, was faded and old, it was clean. The whole place smelled divine. Her mouth watered.
He handed her a small laminated paper. “All you can get here are burgers,” he said. “With your choice of fries or onion rings. So there’s no real menu, but this is the list of toppings.”
Josie took it from him. So this would be an adventure, then. She was game. “All right.”
The waitress came back over with tall glasses of water. “What can I get you to drink today?”
Josie chose a diet soda and Luke an iced tea. Then they placed their burger orders. She went with honey mustard, brie and Granny Smith apples on a burger cooked medium. Luke got so many things on his she couldn’t keep track.
The waitress left and came back with their drinks.
“So you closed your restaurant?”
His words jarred her. Luke probably thought he was making polite conversation. He had no idea what a minefield that question was. She took a sip of her soda and traced a finger on the laminate tabletop. “It’s not quite that easy,” she said, settling on a version of the truth. “I had a partner. He has it now.”
If he picked up on the bitterness in her tone, he didn’t show it. “What made you leave?”
She managed a smile. “It was time to move on. That’s why this was perfect timing.”
* * *
Luke studied her for a second. There was something there she wasn’t telling him, but he wasn’t going to press. He knew all about keeping things private, and he wasn’t going to make her uncomfortable, especially when he didn’t know her very well. “Fortunate for us.”
Her smile was more real that time and reached her eyes. “I hope so.”
She asked some questions about the ranch, and he was more than happy to talk about it, especially since she seemed truly interested in his answers. The waitress delivered two steaming plates of food, and he saw Josie’s eyes widen almost comically. “I guess I forgot to mention it’s enough to feed a couple people.”
She folded her napkin in her lap with a small laugh. “I guess so.”
He took a bite of his fully loaded bacon cheeseburger and chewed reverently. There wasn’t another place in the world like this. If there was, he hadn’t found it. And he’d looked in all the cities he’d played over the years he’d been touring with his band.
“This is amazing,” she said, and her tongue slipped out to catch a dab of ketchup. His gaze snagged on the motion and heat flared inside him, deep and hot. He picked up his tea and took several swallows, hoping the cold liquid would cool him down. He hadn’t expected to react to another woman like that—and definitely not another city girl with no plans to stay.
She looked up then, and he was pretty sure she caught him looking at her like something he’d like to eat. She patted her face self-consciously with her napkin. “Did I get ketchup all over?”
“No,” he said, and his voice was a little rough in his throat. “No, you’re fine.”
She gave him a little frown, and he turned his plate and offered her an onion ring to cover the awkward moment. “Want to try one?”
She picked a small one off his plate and took a bite. She closed her eyes as she chewed. “Mmm. Wow. Amazing.”
“Not haute cuisine, I guess.” It had mattered to Mandy that there was no place, at the time, to get things like sushi in the area. To find a five-star restaurant that wasn’t a steak house.
She opened her eyes and frowned at him. “Good food is good food, Luke. It doesn’t all have to be fancy and complicated.”
He hid a smile. “Sorry. You’re right.”
She moved her plate out of the way and leaned forward. It was enough to push her breasts up, and he managed to keep his eyes on her face. With great effort. “I’m trained as a chef, but I’m a cook, period. I love to hang out in the kitchen, experiment with recipes and create new ones. Really, the whole idea of haute cuisine doesn’t appeal to me. It was part of what led to my split with my partner. Different visions for a lot of things, the very least of which was the menu.”
“I understand.” He did. She looked at it as an expression of herself, like he had with music. Still did, even if he didn’t perform anymore. He wondered if the split had been personal as well as professional, but it wasn’t any of his business.
She picked up another fry and nibbled on it. “Do you think I can get a box? I can’t take the fries home, but I’d hate to waste the burger.”
He’d managed to demolish his. In fact he’d all but licked the plate clean. “I don’t know. I’m sure you can. I’ve never needed one.”
She laughed and the sound flowed over him, almost made him smile. “I’m not surprised.”
She did get a to-go box and he paid the bill, after she insisted on leaving the tip. They walked through the Montana sunshine to his truck. She made him feel—lighter. She hadn’t once referred to his history as a country star. He allowed so few new people into his world it was always a surprise when that happened, because so many over the years had wanted something from him. Or they hadn’t wanted him—they’d wanted the country star.
So while it was refreshing to be with someone who didn’t