“I heard that,” Grace said as she passed by. She gave Lynn a wink. “The man has the hots for me, and don’t think I don’t know it. So does Neville, but my husband claims he’s past caring what I do as long as I quit bothering him.”
Lynn laughed, noting the pained expression on Mitch’s face. “You know she wouldn’t tease you like that if she didn’t adore you.”
“I know.” He leaned across the table and confided, “The woman scares the daylights out of me. If she has her way, she’ll marry me off before the summer’s over. You probably want to run for your life.”
Once again, Lynn couldn’t control a chuckle. “I think you’re tougher than that.”
He gave her a look then that she couldn’t quite interpret.
“I used to think so, too,” he said, his voice suddenly sober.
Before she could try to figure out what he’d meant by that, Grace put a plate of thick, golden French toast in front of her, along with a pitcher of warm maple syrup, butter and a shaker of cinnamon and sugar.
“I wasn’t sure which way you liked it,” Grace said. “Me, I like the syrup, but a lot of folks prefer the cinnamon.”
“I like it drowning in butter and syrup,” Lynn admitted. She spread butter over the slices, doused them in syrup, then tried the first mouthful. “Oh, my God,” she murmured, drawing a smile from Mitch. “What?”
“I remember that look,” he said. “You used to get the same expression on your face at Rosalina’s when you’d take your first bite of pizza.”
“As if I’d died and gone to heaven?” she said. “No doubt about it. When it comes to certain foods, it’s as if they speak to some part of my soul.”
“So, pizza and French toast do that?” he asked, clearly amused. “What else?”
“Chocolate decadence cake,” she said readily. “Almost better than sex.” The second the words left her mouth, she felt herself blushing furiously. “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said that.”
He laughed. “I don’t see why not, if it’s true. I’ll have to remember your very high opinion of those things. Now tell me what you’re doing in here so early.”
She tapped the newspaper she’d set on the table. “Looking for another job.”
Mitch frowned. “I thought you were working for Raylene.”
“Only part-time. I need more hours.”
“But what about the kids?” he asked, then waved off the question. “Sorry, none of my business. I guess I just assumed Ed would be paying support.”
“He is,” she said quickly.
Mitch held her gaze. “But? I know I heard a but in your voice just then.”
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
“Is he late with a check or something?”
Lynn squirmed. “Mitch, I’m really not comfortable talking about this.” She didn’t want everyone in town speculating about Ed and the way he was behaving. Not that they weren’t already, but she didn’t want to confirm or add to the talk.
Mitch clearly wasn’t going to back down, though. His expression filled with concern, he pressed, “I thought we were old friends. If there’s a problem, maybe I can help.”
“It’s sweet of you to offer, it really is, but this will work out,” she insisted. “And it’s not going to kill me to work a few more hours every week. It won’t hurt the kids, either,” she added defensively.
“I know you’re a great mother, Lynn,” he replied patiently. “I wasn’t suggesting otherwise. I see enough of Jeremy and Lexie over at Raylene’s to see how well they’re turning out, and I know they have you to thank for that.”
She drank in his praise. She’d heard far too little of it from her soon-to-be-ex-husband. “Thank you for saying that. They’re great kids. I worry myself sick sometimes about how the divorce is affecting them. Lexie’s growing up too fast, that’s for sure. She’s a sensitive girl and no matter how hard I try to keep my problems from her, she picks up on everything.”
“She looks just fine to me,” Mitch consoled her. “You should hear her and Mandy over at Raylene’s. I can hear them giggling over the sound of all the hammering and, even more impressive, over that music they play. She sounds like a happy, healthy teenager to me.”
“I wish I’d heard that,” Lynn said wistfully. “She and Mandy don’t hang out at our house much these days.”
“Could be she feels guilty about having fun when she knows you’re sad,” Mitch said, surprising her with his insightfulness. “Kids are like that. Those first months after Amy died, mine did plenty of tiptoeing around whenever they came home on visits. Surprised the heck out of me. I didn’t think either one of those boys had a sensitive bone in their bodies, but they were raised by Amy, so of course they did.”
She saw the faraway look in his eyes and responded to that. “There’s no mistaking how much you loved her, Mitch,” she said gently. As hard as the divorce proceedings were, she knew it was nothing like losing someone you loved so deeply with such finality.
“Always will, I imagine,” he said. “But every day does get a little easier.”
He seemed to snap himself back to the moment. “Now I’d better get over to Raylene’s or she’ll be wondering what happened to me. She always has some kind of checklist for me before she goes off to work.” He leaned closer and confided, “Don’t tell her, but I stuff ’em in my pocket and never look at ’em again.”
“Is that because you really don’t give a hoot about what she wants or because you have a photographic memory?” Lynn asked.
He shrugged. “Maybe a little of both. I know I’ll get to all of it eventually. I haven’t been in this business my entire life without knowing what needs to be done and when. See you around, Lynn. Thanks for the company.”
“Thanks for the breakfast,” she said, then watched as he walked away. She was still following him with her gaze when Grace appeared just as he was climbing into his shiny new four-by-four parked out front. She couldn’t help wondering if a man who took such good care of his truck would be equally thoughtful when it came to caring for a woman.
“That man does look good in a pair of jeans,” Grace said with a dramatic sigh. She pinned Lynn with a look. “Just in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Hard not to notice,” Lynn replied, then gave Grace a chiding look. “But don’t go getting any ideas in your head, you hear me? I’m not looking for a man, and he says he’s not looking for anyone, either.”
“And sometimes people lie to themselves because it feels safer,” Grace retorted.
She sashayed off, leaving Lynn alone with the discouragingly paltry list of classified ads. Contemplating Mitch’s sexy butt in a pair of jeans was a whole lot more fascinating than the few menial jobs available in Serenity.
But, she told herself staunchly as she forced her gaze back to the paper, ogling a man wouldn’t put food on the table. And that was what she needed today, not the fleeting and dangerous satisfaction of feeling her pulse race for the first time in a very long time.
* * *
Lynn was down to her last possibility, a cashier’s job at a mini-mart in a dicey section of town. Even in a tranquil community like Serenity, there were places to be avoided. Unfortunately, she was too desperate to take that into consideration.
To her chagrin, she was being interviewed by a girl half her age. She’d probably barely met the twenty-one-year-old age requirement