Jasper rotated his beer bottle, those discerning blue eyes fastened on Rita. 揧ou sound like you抮e speaking from experience.?
揑 am.?Why was she telling him this? God, he would think her twice as pitiful, knowing how many advantages she抎 gotten but still failed. 揗y mother was Miriam Clarkson.?
And, yup, even honky-tonk owners from New Mexico recognized the name. 揊rom the Food Channel all those years back? What was the program敆he snapped his fingers棑Miriam抯 Main Dish.?
揋ot it in one,?Rita said, her lips lifting involuntarily. 揝he opened Wayfare when it went off the air. We were still mostly teenagers.?
揜osemary loved that show.?His gaze strayed to the side as if trying to recall something. 揝he recorded the Christmas dinner special over my VHS of The Goonies. One of my youth抯 greatest tragedies.?
揟hat is truly awful. I feel indirectly responsible.?
揧ou should feel that way. You owe me a new copy on behalf of your mother.?
They were laughing when the waitress approached to take their orders and refill Rita抯 wine. Jasper declined another beer because he was driving, ordering a glass of milk instead. Apparently the catchphrase was true. Milk did do a body good. Fucking great, actually, she amended, remembering the way his abdomen had flexed against her back on the hotel bed.
揥hat are you smiling about over there??Jasper asked when the waitress retreated. 揕ooking real secretive-like.?
God, it was like he already knew. Too bad she wasn抰 going to confirm any possible theories. 揘othing, really. It抯 just卽sually, when I tell people about my mother, they ask a million questions. Did she cook amazing dinners every night of the week? Did she ever just drive us through McDonald抯？？She waited. 揧ou抮e not going to ask me any of that, I guess.?
揘ot unless it抯 going to tell me something about you.?
Ohhh. And the crowd goes wild. Well, technically it was her loins going wild. Not because she was a sucker for sweet one-liners. But because his words felt genuine. He seemed genuine. 揑t won抰，？she murmured.
揟hen let me ask you something different.?She could almost see the wheels cranking in his head, letting off big puffs of steam. So much effort, just for her. 揧ou say I should open the eatery for me, not the town who think I抣l fail, or my grandfather.?He paused awhile. 揥ho were you cooking for??
揑抎 rather talk about McDonald抯，？Rita said quickly, reaching for her full glass of wine, thankful for the path it burned on the way down. She wasn抰 completely blind to the textbook case she appeared to be on the surface. Mother sets high standard. Daughter can抰 reach said standard. All very tidy when spelled out, but it didn抰 leave room for the gray, patchy areas. So many gray areas. And she certainly wasn抰 used to having her issues presented on a silver platter, which accounted for the touch of bite in her voice when she said, 揑 didn抰 realize this date would be so therapeutic.?
Jasper抯 head fell forward, briefly, then lifted. 揝hit, Rita. I don抰 know what抯 wrong with me. It抯 like I抦 trying to cram fifteen dates into one because you could leave any minute.?He shoved a frustrated hand into his already haphazard hair. 揟hat抯 not even really it, though. I just want to know something about you no one else knows. And if that isn抰 creepy for a first date, I don抰 know what is. We haven抰 even eaten chicken milanese yet.?
The crowd had gone wild earlier, but it was roaring loud enough now to crumble the whole damn stadium. When was the last time anyone had been so honest with her? He looked so disgusted with himself, when it should have been the opposite. 揥hen I was eight, I wanted to be a detective.?She threw a small laugh up at the ceiling, unable to believe the nonsense she was sharing with him. 揑 wore sunglasses inside for a month and called myself Gumshoe.?
揥hat抯 the part you never told anyone??
揋umshoe is still my e-mail password.?She wet her lips, positive her face was on fire. 揑 guess I have to change it now.?
揘ah, I won抰 snoop.?A slow smile spread across his face. 揟hank you.?
When had she started fidgeting? She flattened her palms on the table to stop herself. God, the way he was looking at her. Like he抎 just won some fabulous prize and it was sitting on top of her head. Crazily enough, Rita thought she might be looking at him the same way. And meaning it. 揂lso. When I抦 nervous, I like to listen to people list the daily specials. Sometimes I just do it myself with old menus.?
Jasper抯 head immediately turned, obviously seeking out something to read from, but Rita stopped him with a hand on his forearm. When he stared down at her hesitant touch, Rita resisted the urge to snatch her hand back. 揑f you know the new eatery menu by heart already卪aybe you could tell me that??
His gaze searched hers. 揑 do. I came up with it myself.?
Rita felt like she was standing on the edge of a diving board, getting ready to jump. 揋ood. I guess, I厀ant to know something about you, too.?
He bent down and placed his lips on her knuckles, dampening them with a slow, open-mouthed kiss she felt right in the pit of her stomach. 揥ill you let me show you??
揙h, yeah,?she breathed.
Warm air puffed out on her hand when he laughed. 揑 meant the restaurant, beautiful. I want to show you my restaurant. Tonight.?
揟hose were some mixed signals you were sending.?
Without warning, her chair was yanked closer by Jasper抯 hand, unseen under the table, bringing her right up against him. With her whelp still hanging in the air, Jasper stamped his mouth down on hers, stirring murmurs around them from the other patrons. 揇oes that unmix them for you??he asked, his voice having dropped around ten octaves.
Rita nodded, bumping their noses together. Something spun in her chest like silk, sticky but smooth. It took her a moment to decipher the sensation. Relief. They still had more. Every time she saw Jasper, it was potentially the last. But they had the whole night now. She should be excited. So why did tonight suddenly seem like way less than she needed?
Chapter Eighteen
Apart from the kitchen crew and waitstaff he抎 spent the last few weeks hiring, Jasper hadn抰 shown the new eatery to anyone. After the months he抎 spent framing the addition, insulating the walls, carefully installing Sheetrock, sanding and lacquering the floors, with only sporadic help from local contractors, the eatery had become something of a private relic. He抎 kept it sealed off from the bar, behind the plastic sheet, distracting everyone from its existence with half-price beer. Now even a man with no food-service experience knew that was no way to create excitement. It was almost as though he were trying to lower everyone抯 expectations so if they were even remotely impressed he could call it a win.
By showing it to Rita, he was throwing in all his poker chips. Even before finding out she抎 been raised by Miriam Clarkson梙ell, trained by the woman梙e抎 been on the fence about giving Rita a tour of the modest fifteen-table addition. But she抎 exposed parts of herself for him at dinner, and he wouldn抰 take without giving. In fact, there was gnawing impatience in his stomach that grew stronger as they pulled in behind the Liquor Hole. Probably due in part to him sticking his goddamn foot into his mouth several times over the course of the evening. Going into tonight, Jasper hadn抰 known the rules of dating, but he could now recite rule number one with conviction.
Don抰 attempt to figure out a woman抯 every insecurity, fear, and fault before the meal arrives. It was just plain bad manners.
As if that rule applied to anyone but Rita.