“Laila mentioned it.”
“What?” she hedged.
“That you and Austin seemed to be having a good time,” he answered. “She hoped that’s a sign that things are looking up for him.”
“For Austin? I don’t understand.”
Jackson shrugged. “Apparently he had a bad experience with love.”
Surely he’d misunderstood Laila. It was hard for Rose to believe that someone as handsome, sexy and smart as Austin wouldn’t have women falling at his feet.
“What happened?”
“Not a clue. It was before I moved to Thunder Canyon.”
Rose tried not to be curious about Austin’s past. It was none of her business. Because she’d scratched him off her list, whatever had taken place would not impact her. They were nothing more than friends. But friends cared about each other. And confided their concerns. It would help to know the details of his bad luck.
“Laila probably knows his story,” she suggested.
“Probably,” he agreed.
“You should ask her.”
“Why?” Jackson’s look was skeptical.
Rose couldn’t meet his gaze. She glanced away and saw the man in question coming toward them with a beer in one hand and a glass of white wine in the other.
“No reason,” she said. “He’s a nice guy and I can’t imagine what woman in her right mind would dump him.”
“Maybe that’s it.”
“What?”
“She probably wasn’t in her right mind,” Jackson suggested.
“You should ask Laila.”
His dark eyes narrowed. “You seem awfully interested.”
“Not really.” She willed herself to look indifferent when every nerve in her body was quivering with questions. “It’s just that we’re friends.”
“Okay.”
“So you’ll find out what happened?”
“I’ll ask Laila.”
“Promise?” Rose said.
“You want a pinky swear?”
She did, but the words would never pass her lips. “A solemn brotherly promise is sacred enough for me,” she teased.
Jackson glanced at the doorway, clearly looking for Laila. “I think I’ll go find my lady.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
He stood, then tapped her nose. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Rosie. If anyone says different, I’ll beat him up.”
“I’d like that,” she agreed laughing.
“Seriously, if you need me, I’m there.”
“I know.”
She watched him walk away and meet his love at the door.
“Who is Jackson beating up?” Austin put the white wine in front of her.
“Guys with tattoos.” That was something else about this particular man that tweaked her curiosity.
It was nothing more than being nosy. Curiosity was better than feeling sorry for herself. And how stupid was that? She had a great job. A family who loved her. And Traubs didn’t give up. She wasn’t a couple today, but tomorrow? Anything was possible. Still, she felt the tiniest twinge when Austin set the glass of wine in front of her, shades of regret that he could only be her friend.
“Thanks.”
“So you’re sure I can’t talk you into looking at my tattoo?”
She laughed and realized how much easier it was to share in the joy of this beautiful evening when he was around. With luck, the romantic magic would shift in her direction. If it held, she wouldn’t have to kiss too many more frogs before one of them turned into a handsome prince.
Chapter Three
And another frog it was.
There was no way Rose would kiss Harvey French. With her elbow on the wooden table, she rested her cheek in her palm and tried to look interested in what the guy was saying. Two days ago she’d been at the wedding with Austin and now, with her tush perched on the red vinyl seat in a booth lining the big room at Lipsmackin’ Ribs, she was missing him more than she could say.
Harvey was an attorney she’d met in the mayor’s office that morning and he’d asked her to dinner. Note to self, she thought, when a guy asks you to dinner, be sure to find out where. This place was a big clue that would, as Mr. I’m-the-best-attorney-on-the-planet say, go to character. And his was as repulsive as the short, tight, blue-and-white, belly-baring T-shirts this restaurant made its waitresses wear.
It was a big red flag. Not only was this place competition for her cousin DJ, there’d been some weird stuff going on between the competing restaurants.
As far as a kiss transforming this guy, in the fairy tale it was all about looks and Harvey was already handsome. He was blond, blue-eyed and broad-shouldered. The gray suit and red silk tie he wore were expensive. And yet…
Kill me now, she wanted to say. A direct meteor strike would be sudden and painless, unlike this never-ending, excruciating date. And they hadn’t ordered yet, just drinks. But there wasn’t enough liquor in the world to improve his personality.
“I really took them apart in court,” he was saying. “It wasn’t even a contest.”
“Oh?”
“It cost them a bundle to defend against my client’s cause of action. I buried them in paperwork, tied up the legal team answering motions in court. It was a beautiful thing to behold.”
“Really?” Rose kicked herself. The single word would signal encouragement to continue, which was the last thing she wanted. He was probably black and blue from patting himself on the back. If she heard one more party-of-the-first-part, fiduciary duty or jurisprudence, she’d scream. Or choke him.
“They were forced to finally settle out of court. I was making it too expensive for them to continue defending against it. Although, just between you and me, there was no merit to my client’s lawsuit.”
Rose stared at him. It was lawyers like him who gave every attorney who’d passed the bar a bad reputation. Time to change the subject to something neutral. Like her new hometown. The weather.
“Thunder Canyon is a great place to live,” she said. No “I” anywhere in that sentence.
“I’ve lived here all my life. Did I mention I played football?”
By her count he’d mentioned it four times. She remembered because she’d responded the same way three times and this made number four. “In Texas we take our football seriously.”
“So you said.” Harvey sipped his whiskey and soda.
Color her surprised that he’d noticed. She’d hoped that bringing up Thunder Canyon would segue into his asking why she’d moved. How she liked Montana. Did the cold bother her? Was it true that the best way to ride out a snowstorm was in front of a fire? She remembered Austin offering to help her build one and just the memory had her sizzling.
Rose flashed back to how handsome he’d looked in his traditional black tux at the wedding. She remembered delivering dinners with him on Thanksgiving and his joking about boring her into a coma. No danger of that happening. He was fun. Unlike the buffoon sitting across from her.
The buffoon continued, “In high school, I was quarterback of the football team when