while back, she’d given him one of the real McCoys when he’d revealed that he was widowed. She had always pegged him for divorced, and to make up for her error, she’d removed the flower she wore that day, a velvety red rose, and placed it gently in his hand. Later, he’d gone to Corrine’s grave and left it for her. Somewhere along the way, he’d gotten used to talking to his dead wife. He’d even explained where the rose had come from, telling her about the warm-hearted waitress who’d bestowed it upon him.
“Can I get you anything else?” Dana asked.
He shook his head.
“You sure? The apple pie is fresh.”
He thought she was fresh, too, light and springy—a modern bohemian, as she called herself, who’d yet to decide on a college major.
“Cherry is my favorite,” he said.
“We don’t have any cherry. But I promise the apple is delish.”
He met her gaze. She had the bluest eyes and the blondest, most naturally golden hair. Everything about her shimmered.
She cocked her head. “What do you say? A la mode?”
He shifted his focus. Pie and ice cream. “Sure, okay.”
“Coffee, too?”
“Yes.”
Off she went: pink uniform, purple flower and Gidget ponytail. Eric found himself watching her again. He enjoyed looking at her. He enjoyed it far too much.
He was frowning when she delivered his coffee and dessert.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
You, he thought. He didn’t want to be attracted to a woman who was closer to his daughter’s age than his own.
“Nothing is wrong.”
“Taste the pie.” She waggled her fingers. “It’s guaranteed to make you smile.”
He did as he was told. Stupid as it was, he liked having her nearby, tempting him to take a mouthful of the forbidden fruit. The a la mode was an added bonus.
Sure enough, it made him smile. “You win.”
“I always do. You know what would be great? There’s a gallery opening tomorrow night that I really want to see. You can take me to it, if you’re free.”
He looked at her as if she’d flipped her lovely little lid. Her suggestion sounded suspiciously like a date. “You don’t need an older guy like me taking you anywhere.”
“You’re not old. You’re barely into your forties. Besides, you’re yummy.”
Yummy? His heart hit his chest. Bang. Bang. Bang. Like shots from a gun. His daughter wanted him to start dating again. But he doubted that she had someone like Dana in mind.
“Say yes, Eric.”
He didn’t utter a word. Instead he took a second bite, but the diversion didn’t work. The gooey sweetness made him want to tug her onto his lap and kiss her hard and fast. To curb his appetite, he swigged his coffee.
She persisted. “Come on. It’ll be fun. Besides, you’re an artist. You’ll be the perfect companion for a gallery opening.”
He downplayed his profession. “I’m an art teacher at a middle school.”
“You’re still an artist. How about this? I’ll give you my number, and you can call and let me know.”
She zoomed off to tend to other customers, and he ate the devil out of his pie.
A short while later she returned with his check and her number, written on a scrap of paper. Eric tucked it into his pocket. He had no idea what he was going to do, but at least he had a day to think about it.
“I hope I see you tomorrow,” she said, placing her hand on his shoulder.
He wished that she hadn’t touched him. The kiss he’d longed for came tumbling back. “I just don’t know.” He gazed at her mouth.
She moistened her lips. “You’ll figure it out.”
Would he? She was the first woman he’d desired since Corrine had died. He didn’t know what that said about his libido, considering Dana’s carefree attitude and age. “I’ve been out of the loop since my wife passed.”
“Ours will be just a casual date.”
“That doesn’t change the age difference between us.”
“It isn’t that big of a difference.”
It was to him. Even as attracted as he was to Dana, he’d never considered dating a twentysomething. “I’ll call you and let you know either way.”
“Okay. Thanks. I better get back to work now.” She touched his shoulder again, rubbing it a little this time.
His stomach flip-flopped.
After she was gone, he paid with cash and left her a generous tip. On his way to the door, he turned around and looked for her, seeking her attention from across the diner.
She caught his gaze and flashed a don’t-forget-to-call-me smile.
As if forgetting about her was actually possible.
* * *
After work Dana went home, excited about the possibility of going out with Eric. Even if he chose not to date her, she would still be proud of herself for putting it out there. She’d had a crush on him since she’d first met him, which was when she’d started working at the diner, almost a year ago. A year was a record for her. Not just to hold a crush for that long, but to stay at the same job. She liked to mix things up.
And boy had she done that today. She’d finally mustered the courage to ask Eric out. She’d been thinking about it for what seemed like forever and now that Valentine’s Day was around the corner, she figured this was the time to do it. Plus, when she’d heard about the gallery opening, she knew she’d found the perfect event to invite him to attend with her.
He was such an intriguing mystery, a man she wanted to get to know. She especially liked to see him smile. He had a great smile that he didn’t use nearly often enough.
She went into her bedroom to change. She lived in the most adorable guest house that she’d found on Craigslist. Her side of the yard, which had a white picket fence, hosted an English-style garden and a naked-cherub fountain. The cherub amused her because he was one of those mischievous little angels that appeared to be peeing in the water. Everything about the place was perfect. She even had an awesome landlord who owned the property and lived in the front house. In fact, she and Candy McCall were becoming the best of friends. Prior to living here, Dana had been in an apartment crowded with roommates.
She tossed her uniform on a chair and climbed into a ragged T-shirt and comfy jeans. She was anxious to talk to Candy about Eric.
Dana ventured outside. The weather was lovely on this February evening. As she passed the cherub, she smiled.
After crossing her flower-filled yard, she entered through the gate that led to Candy’s equally colorful residence.
She approached the back door and called out through the screen. “Hey, you! Can I pop in for a minute? I have some news.”
“Of course” was the reply. “Get your butt in here.”
Dana happily entered. Candy was in her cluttered kitchen, preparing what most people would assume were regular cookies, but Dana knew they were homemade dog treats that had just come out of the oven. Candy was a yoga instructor who also taught classes in doga: yoga for dogs. On top of that, she was a strikingly beautiful, long-legged brunette who ate a strict vegetarian diet, burned luscious-smelling candles and spoke evasively about her failed marriage.
“Where’s Yogi?” Dana asked, inquiring about Candy’s yellow lab and the queen