Read Online Small Town Girl by Patricia Rice - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Patricia Rice
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blind to trip over one. I'll call Sally. She'll be delighted."
"Has she got anyone special?" Flint asked, not looking at Jo as he flipped on the lights.
Jo tried not to reel in shock. This handsome cowboy who could have any woman he wanted was interested in little Sally? Boy, she really was losing her judgment about people. "No one special. She sings in the choir at First Baptist. You might go up there on Sunday if you're out to make an impression."
"Better class of people in church than in bars," he agreed, apparently forgetting where he'd met Jo.
She contemplated socking him over the back of his oblivious head with a coffee mug, but he was a man and clueless. "You'll see some of the same people in both places," she said with what she considered great restraint.
He regarded her tight expression with suspicion. "Right. If you'll start the coffee, I'll go back and unlock for the delivery truck."
They were stepping around each other as if his mention of RJ yesterday had planted a mine field. Maybe it had. Figuring she'd better wait until they both had some caffeine before approaching him about Randy, Jo tightened her apron bow and sauntered back to the counter.
She had coffee brewing and Charlie's newly washed Fiestaware collection stacked all over the counter by the time Flint returned. He carried boxes heavy enough for two forklifts and efficiently stacked them in the pantry without dropping one. Jo sighed in regret over all those rippling muscles she shouldn't touch.
After storing the delivery and breaking out the Krispy Kremes to stack in the counter case, Flint gazed over the array of plates she'd set out. "Having a party?"
"They're Fiestaware," she said proudly. "They're real popular now, and I bet these are the genuine things, not the cheap ones from the discount store. I looked them up at the library when I was in Asheville, and we have some of the old colors. I had this idea—we could paint the cafe in tangerine and persimmon and juniper and line shelves with the plates. Sit some in the front window. Tourists would come in and want to buy them. We could serve them coffee in the cups."
"Tangerine?" He looked as if he'd swallowed the persimmon. "I don't think so. You think these things are worth money?"
"Maybe turquoise and cobalt then?" she asked hopefully. "The place is so gloomy and dull. Bright colors would attract kids, but I guess blues…"
He shook his head. "I like the place like it is. Just because I agreed to a purple pig doesn't mean you can change everything. But if those plates are worth something, I could fix up a shelf in the window maybe."
That was a start, she supposed. She traced the tip of her finger lovingly over one of the colorful coffee cups. "And serve coffee in them maybe?"
"They need saucers. Twice the washing." He poured coffee into the plain white restaurant mug and leaned back against the counter to sip it.
Jo could feel the heat of his gaze burn straight through her clothes, but she was practicing focus this morning. Men seldom turned down her ideas, but Flint probably had lots of women throwing themselves at his feet. She apparently had to appeal to his pockets if she wanted to win this one. She kinda liked the idea that he couldn't be swayed by sex.
Before he asked about the cost of the platter she'd broken, Jo switched the subject. "Why did you ask about Randy yesterday?"
"Randy?" He had to change mental gears for that one. "RJ? I'd forgotten we used to call him Randy when we were kids."
She poured herself some coffee and leaned her hip against the stove, far enough away from him that she could keep her mind on the subject and not how it had felt to be held in Flint's big brown arms. If she wanted to learn more, she had to keep this low-key even if she had the urge to fling a plate every time she heard RJ Ratfink's name. "You knew him when he was a kid?"
Flint set down his cup and headed toward the door to switch the Closed sign to Open . "He was a few years younger
"Has she got anyone special?" Flint asked, not looking at Jo as he flipped on the lights.
Jo tried not to reel in shock. This handsome cowboy who could have any woman he wanted was interested in little Sally? Boy, she really was losing her judgment about people. "No one special. She sings in the choir at First Baptist. You might go up there on Sunday if you're out to make an impression."
"Better class of people in church than in bars," he agreed, apparently forgetting where he'd met Jo.
She contemplated socking him over the back of his oblivious head with a coffee mug, but he was a man and clueless. "You'll see some of the same people in both places," she said with what she considered great restraint.
He regarded her tight expression with suspicion. "Right. If you'll start the coffee, I'll go back and unlock for the delivery truck."
They were stepping around each other as if his mention of RJ yesterday had planted a mine field. Maybe it had. Figuring she'd better wait until they both had some caffeine before approaching him about Randy, Jo tightened her apron bow and sauntered back to the counter.
She had coffee brewing and Charlie's newly washed Fiestaware collection stacked all over the counter by the time Flint returned. He carried boxes heavy enough for two forklifts and efficiently stacked them in the pantry without dropping one. Jo sighed in regret over all those rippling muscles she shouldn't touch.
After storing the delivery and breaking out the Krispy Kremes to stack in the counter case, Flint gazed over the array of plates she'd set out. "Having a party?"
"They're Fiestaware," she said proudly. "They're real popular now, and I bet these are the genuine things, not the cheap ones from the discount store. I looked them up at the library when I was in Asheville, and we have some of the old colors. I had this idea—we could paint the cafe in tangerine and persimmon and juniper and line shelves with the plates. Sit some in the front window. Tourists would come in and want to buy them. We could serve them coffee in the cups."
"Tangerine?" He looked as if he'd swallowed the persimmon. "I don't think so. You think these things are worth money?"
"Maybe turquoise and cobalt then?" she asked hopefully. "The place is so gloomy and dull. Bright colors would attract kids, but I guess blues…"
He shook his head. "I like the place like it is. Just because I agreed to a purple pig doesn't mean you can change everything. But if those plates are worth something, I could fix up a shelf in the window maybe."
That was a start, she supposed. She traced the tip of her finger lovingly over one of the colorful coffee cups. "And serve coffee in them maybe?"
"They need saucers. Twice the washing." He poured coffee into the plain white restaurant mug and leaned back against the counter to sip it.
Jo could feel the heat of his gaze burn straight through her clothes, but she was practicing focus this morning. Men seldom turned down her ideas, but Flint probably had lots of women throwing themselves at his feet. She apparently had to appeal to his pockets if she wanted to win this one. She kinda liked the idea that he couldn't be swayed by sex.
Before he asked about the cost of the platter she'd broken, Jo switched the subject. "Why did you ask about Randy yesterday?"
"Randy?" He had to change mental gears for that one. "RJ? I'd forgotten we used to call him Randy when we were kids."
She poured herself some coffee and leaned her hip against the stove, far enough away from him that she could keep her mind on the subject and not how it had felt to be held in Flint's big brown arms. If she wanted to learn more, she had to keep this low-key even if she had the urge to fling a plate every time she heard RJ Ratfink's name. "You knew him when he was a kid?"
Flint set down his cup and headed toward the door to switch the Closed sign to Open . "He was a few years younger
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