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  Quade gently took a sip of the hot brew. “It’s very good. Thank you.”

  After starting her own mug, she took the plastic container holding the brownies out of the pantry. “They’re from a mix. I’ve tried making brownies from scratch several times, but they always seem dry.”

  “Some of the best things I’ve eaten have come from a mix.”

  She thought him sweet to say that before he’d even tasted one. “You might change your mind once you eat one of these.” She removed the lid, held the plastic container out to him. “Help yourself.”

  He chose the biggest brownie on top, took a healthy bite and chewed. “Very good.”

  It pleased her that he thought so. “I think the local pecans are what make them so good.” Eve took her mug from the coffeemaker, added a generous splash of liquid creamer to it. “Let’s take our dessert to the living room. We’ll be more comfortable.”

  Quade finished his brownie and took the plastic container from her hands. “I’ll carry that for you. Just to be helpful.”

  She chuckled at the mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

  His grin made her think of a little boy who’d gotten away with stealing cookies from beneath his mom’s nose. She’d never seen this playful side of Quade. But then, she hadn’t spent that much time with him over the two years she’d lived in Lanville. This evening gave her the opportunity to get to know him better. As a friend.

  Eve tore a couple of paper towels from the roll and led the way to the living room. She’d left one lamp burning on the end table by the couch for she hated walking into a dark room. She turned on the other lamp as she walked past it. Once she sat at one end of the couch, Quade sat at the other and set the container between them. She handed him one of the paper towels, then chose a treat for herself. One bite and she moaned from pleasure.

  “I know I made them, but I have to say they’re delicious.”

  “Yes, they are.” Quade chose a second brownie, bit off half in one bite. “I’m usually not much of a sweets eater, but chocolate is my weakness.”

  “Mine, too. I could gain a lot of weight easily if I gave in to my chocolate cravings more often than I do.”

  His gaze dipped to her breasts, her thighs. “You have nothing to worry about as far as your weight.”

  Her cheeks heated at his compliment. “Thank you.”

  He stretched his arm along the back of the couch, resting his hand mere inches from her shoulder. “You’re a lovely woman, Eve.” This time he looked at her face, her hair. “Your hair is an amazing color. I’ll be rude and ask if it’s real or if you get help from a hairdresser.”

  She could pretend to be offended at his question, but didn’t want to play games with Quade. “It’s real. Both my parents have blond hair.”

  Quade took a sip of his coffee. “Tell me about your parents. I heard that your father is Dutch and your mother American. Do they live in the Netherlands?”

  “My father does. My mother passed away several years ago.”

  A look of sympathy crossed his face. “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I. I still miss her.” Eve drew up her knees to the couch, shifted so she could see Quade better. “My father was in Jacksonville, Florida, thirty-three years ago on business. My mother lived there and had gone out to dinner with girlfriends. She and my father had one of those moments—according to my mother—when their eyes met across the restaurant and fireworks went off. He followed her outside and asked to see her the next day. She agreed.” Eve held her mug in both hands. “They spent four days together. I was the result of those four days.”

  “Did they marry?”

  Eve shook her head. “They cared deeply for each other, I have no doubt about that, but they didn’t love each other and had no desire to marry.”

  “Yet you have his last name.”

  “My father comes from a wealthy and influential family. He and my mother wanted me to be part of that family, so they gave me his last name. I was born in Amsterdam and have dual citizenship, but they decided I would stay with my mother and my father would pay for support and visit whenever possible. Or I’d go to see him. That’s what usually happens. It’s hard for him to get away from his job. Plus he isn’t crazy about flying. So he buys my plane ticket whenever I get the chance to go to see him. It works out for us.”

  “But you don’t get to see him very often.”

  “Two or three times a year. I’m going at Christmas for two weeks.”

  Propping his elbow on the back of the couch, Quade rested his cheek against his fist. “I’ll bet it’s beautiful there at Christmas.”

  Eve smiled in memory. “Oh, yes. There’s usually snow, which I love. Living in Florida meant it was rare for me to see snow while growing up.”

  “Then you should’ve loved last November when we got seven inches.”

  “I did. I loved every inch of it, even though I couldn’t drive for three days.”

  Quade chuckled. “So what’s the weather like at Christmas in the Netherlands, besides having snow?”

  “The temperature varies little, only about fifteen degrees between the low and high. It usually runs from the low thirties at night to the mid-forties during the day. Although one time when I was there a few years back, it got up to sixty two days after Christmas. I saw a lot of people in short sleeves on their bicycles.”

  He leaned a little closer to her, as if he planned to tell her a secret. “Have you ever been to the Red Light District in Amsterdam?”

  If he wanted to embarrass her or shock her, it wouldn’t work. “Of course I have, many times.”

  A slow smile spread across his lips. “Why, you little vixen.”

  “I didn’t say I’d worked there, only been there.”

  Quade laughed. “I like your honesty.”

  “It’s much better than lying.”

  “True.”

  She watched him break another brownie in half. “What about you? Do your parents live close by?”

  “In Austin. That’s where I grew up. My ex-wife still lives there, and my son.”

  Eve stopped with her mug raised halfway to her mouth. “You have a son?”

  Pride shone in his eyes as he smiled. “Adrian. He’s fifteen and the best part of my life. I drive down to see him every couple of weekends. He comes up for Christmas and spring break and most of the summer. Although in another year or two, I doubt he’ll want to spend spring break with his old man.”

  Eve smiled, sure Quade must be right. Adrian would soon be more interested in meeting girls on spring break than being with his father. “You’re young to have a fifteen-year-old son.”

  “Natalie and I met the beginning of our sophomore year in college. Things developed quickly between us. We tried to be careful, but she got pregnant anyway. We decided to get married and did our best to make it work, but even though we cared for each other, the love needed to sustain a marriage simply wasn’t there. We divorced after two years.”

  “That must have been hard on Adrian.”

  “Yeah, it was. He was daddy’s boy all the way to his toenails. I stayed in Austin so I could be close to him until he got older. When the job as counselor at the high school in Lanville was offered to me, I decided to take it. I hated to leave my son, but needed a fresh start. It broke my heart to see tears in his eyes when I drove off, but I felt moving here was the right thing to do.”

  “Has it turned out to be a good decision?”

  Quade nodded. “I love my job and love Lanville. The people here are friendly and caring. It’s a great place to live. And Natalie remarried three years ago. Adrian gets along well with his stepfather. I’m thankful for that. It makes it easier for me to say good-bye when I have to leave him.”

  “You haven’t remarried. Why not?”

  “I haven’t met my soul mate yet.”

  She gripped her mug a bit tighter. She thought she’d met her soul mate. Twice. Neither time had worked out. “Do you believe that? That there’s a soul mat
e for everyone?”

  “I don’t know if I believe there’s a soul mate for everyone, but I do believe there’s one for me. I’ll meet her someday, when the time is right.”

  “But you’ve dated, right?”

  “Sure. I’ve dated several very nice women. In fact, I thought I might have met ‘the one’ about a year ago, but Deborah and I had little in common. We split up six months ago.” Quade set his empty mug on the end table. “What about you? Why no Mr. Van Den Bergh in your life?”

  “Would you like another cup of coffee?” she asked to avoid answering his question.

  His eyes narrowed. She knew she hadn’t fooled him. “In a minute. I told you about my past relationships. Your turn to tell me about yours.”

  He’d shared with her. It would only be fair for her to share with him. Eve looked down in her empty mug, wished she held a glass of wine instead. “I was engaged. It didn’t work out.” She lifted her gaze back to Quade’s face. “Either time.”

  His eyebrows lifted in obvious surprise. “Either time?”

  “I was engaged twice.”

  A tender look of concern passed over his face. “What happened?”

  While baring her soul might be good for her, Eve couldn’t talk about her failures with Quade. “I know you’re a counselor and you’re used to getting people to talk, but I’d rather not.”

  “Not a problem,” he didn’t hesitate to say. “If you don’t want to talk about it, then we won’t.” He glanced at his watch. “I should be leaving anyway. It’s after midnight and you have to work tomorrow.”

  It surprised her to realize how very much she didn’t want him to go. “You don’t have to leave. I don’t start until noon on Saturdays. I can make you another cup of coffee.”

  Quade smiled. “I appreciate the offer, but I should go.”

  He’d mentioned he went to Austin to see his son every other weekend. Perhaps he planned to do that tomorrow and had to get home so he could leave early. “Are you going to Austin in the morning?”

  “No. I went last weekend and I’ll go next weekend. I’m free this Saturday and Sunday.”

  What a perfect opening to invite him to come back for dinner, or go to a movie, or have a picnic. Instead, she remained silent, the invitation frozen on her tongue.

  Quade picked up his empty coffee mug. “Thanks for the coffee and brownies.”

  “Would you like to take a couple with you? I have plenty.”

  His eyes twinkled with humor. “I’ll never turn down chocolate.”

  Eve led the way back to her kitchen. Quade set his mug in the sink, then moved out of her way. She placed three brownies in a plastic zippered bag and handed it to him.

  “To enjoy tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.”

  This time she followed instead of led when Quade walked to her door. Not sure what to do with her hands, she slipped them in the pockets of her pants. She should be happy that he planned to leave, that she wouldn’t be surrounded by his masculine, woodsy scent any longer. Truthfully, she’d enjoyed his company, his conversation, along with that amazing scent. It had been over two years since she’d been close to a man, close enough to see the flecks of silver in his sapphire eyes, feel his warmth touch her arm.

  She’d missed it.

  Quade placed his hand on the doorknob, then turned to look at her. “I had a good time tonight.”

  “I did, too.”

  Heat rushed through her body when she saw a flare of desire in his eyes. “Such a nice evening should end with a kiss, right?”

  Say no. He won’t kiss me if I say no.

  Eve nodded.

  She couldn’t call it a kiss, but more of a whisper of his lips against hers. It lasted only moments … not nearly long enough for her to get enough of his taste.

  “Have dinner with me tomorrow night,” he said in a husky voice.

  Eve nodded again.

  “What time do you get off work?”

  “Six.”

  “I’ll make reservations at Café Crystal for seven-thirty.”

  “Okay.”

  She thought—hoped—he might kiss her again, but he opened the door and stepped into the night. Eve closed the door behind him, leaned her forehead against the wood. Just because she’d accepted Quade’s invitation to dinner didn’t mean anything would develop between them. It couldn’t. She didn’t have the courage to go through heartbreak a third time.

  4

  “You call that lean?” Quade heard Emma say in a ferocious voice. He paused inside the back door to the Café Crystal kitchen, not wanting to be in the line of fire. He’d witnessed the effect of Emma’s temper and didn’t want to see it again. For someone only five-three, she could slay a man to ribbons with her tongue.

  “Mz. Keeton,” a whiny male voice pleaded, “those are some of my best steaks—”

  “Then I’ll start looking for another supplier because I will not serve fatty steaks to my customers!”

  Quade peeked around the door frame, wondering if he should step in to help her … or help whomever received the tongue lashing. Emma held a large knife with a thick rib eye pierced on the end of the blade while she glared at the man who outweighed her by at least one hundred pounds and towered over her by a good eight inches.

  “You take these back and bring me the steaks I ordered.”

  “Now, Mz. Keeton, we can work this out—”

  “Get out of my sight.” She tossed the steak into a large cardboard box on the counter. “And take those globs of fat with you.”

  The man looked like he might try to argue again, but then he sighed heavily and picked up the box. “You still want the sirloins and T-bones?”

  “Yes, they’re fine. But those”—she pointed to the box in his hand as if it were a pile of week-old garbage—“I wouldn’t feed to my best friend’s dog.”

  Quade knew his two Labs would love those steaks, fatty or not.

  Emma made a shooing motion with her hand. “Get out of here. Be back Tuesday with decent rib eyes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The man sighed heavily as he walked toward the exit. When he reached Quade, he whispered, “I wouldn’t go in there if I was you. She’s in a mood.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” Quade whispered back.

  He walked into the kitchen, but kept five feet between himself and Emma, who still held the large knife clutched in her fist. “Could you put down that weapon before I come any closer?”

  Fire still shot from her eyes when she looked his way. “I hate incompetence. It really pisses me off when I don’t get what I want.”

  “I could tell. Did Griff know what he was getting into before he proposed?”

  “Oh, yeah. He’s seen me mad dozens of times. He just pushes me against the wall and ravishes me, and then everything is okay.” The anger disappeared from her eyes. Grinning, she laid the knife on the counter. “Was that too much information?”

  “Nah. I’ve heard lots of things in counseling.”

  “Nothing like that from high school kids, I hope.”

  He’d made the counseling comment to tease her, but Emma’s statement had Quade thinking back on some of the conversations he’d had with abused kids. It always broke his heart when he heard about parents or relatives hurting the ones they should love the most. “Sometimes, yeah,” he said softly.

  Sympathy filled her eyes now. She slipped her hands into the pockets of her chef’s smock. “That’s so sad. I can’t imagine the pleasure anyone gets from hurting a child.”

  “I can’t either, Emma.” Not wanting to go down that path, Quade decided to change the subject. “I’m here to ask a favor.”

  “Name it.”

  “I’m bringing Eve here tonight for dinner. Could you make some kind of special dessert for us, something that isn’t on the menu? She loves chocolate.”

  Emma smiled. “I love whipping up special items. Do you want something off-menu for dinner, too?”

  “I’d say yes, but I’m not
sure what she prefers. I think this time it’s better to let her order from the menu.”

  “No problem.” She leaned against a counter, crossed her arms beneath her breasts. A smirk turned up the corners of her lips “So, you finally got Eve to say yes to a date, huh?”

  “Perseverance pays off.”

  Emma’s smirk faded. “To my knowledge—and you know how people in this town love to gossip—Eve hasn’t dated anyone since she moved here. I hope you don’t put too much hope in this date. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Quade tapped the end of her cute nose. “Thank you. I appreciate what a good friend you are, but I’m fine. It’s only one date. I’d like it to lead to more, but I’m okay if it doesn’t.”

  “If I didn’t love Griff so much, I’d push you up against the wall.”

  He grinned. “I’d let you.”

  “I don’t understand why a woman hasn’t tied you to her bed by now. You’re such a great guy.” Her gaze passed over his shoulders and chest. “Not to mention completely buff and gorgeous. You do know that when you ride through town on your motorcycle, every woman who sees you sighs. And I mean every one, from the teenagers to the senior citizens. Especially when your hair is free and blows in the wind.” She gave a playful shiver. “Damn.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck while heat climbed into his cheeks. Few women could embarrass him. Emma did, time and time again. “Thank you. I think.”

  Her grin returned. Emma rose to her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I’ll make something very special for your dessert tonight. What time is your reservation?”

  “Seven-thirty. Or I guess I should say it’ll be at seven-thirty as soon as I make it.”

  “I’ll take care of that right now.” Crossing to a small alcove that housed a desk, bookshelves, and file cabinets, Emma sat at the desk and wiggled the mouse to wake up the computer. “Wow, we’re almost at capacity tonight. I love when that happens.” She clicked a few keys. “Done! Got you down for seven-thirty.”

  “You making your prime rib tonight?”

  “Of course. Every Friday and Saturday night. The chef’s special tonight is a smaller cut of prime rib served with a fresh lobster tail from Maine.”