Page 8 of Kissing Kin
“Thanks.” Relinquishing her vest, she slipped her arms through its sleeves.
He breathed in the fresh, lemony scent of her shampoo. “Thought you might like some company for dinner—being new in town and all.”
“That’s especially thoughtful on a night like this.” She glanced at the snow outside.
“Not really. Selfish is more like it.” He laughed at himself. “Might as well be honest.”
“As long as we’re being honest…” Turning toward him, she lowered her voice. “I hate eating alone in restaurants.”
“It isn’t every day I stumble on a long-lost cousin.”
“Third cousin”—her green eyes danced—“by adoption.”
His gaze caught hers and held it a beat too long. Recovering, he gestured toward the café next door. “Hope you’re hungry. The bistro makes a mean beef bourguignon.”
“You mean beef stew?”
“Hey, it’s a small-town restaurant trying to be chic.” Pretending indignation, he opened the door, and a blast of frigid air sucked away his breath.
“Brisk.” She shivered as the wind swept back her hair.
“And icy.” He stepped over the downspout’s ice flow, where the snow had melted and refrozen beneath the snow. “Watch your st—”
She shrieked as she slipped.
He caught her, then keeping a protective arm around her shoulders, guided her beneath the strung lights. Relentless snowflakes swirled about them, weighing down the giant oak boughs overhead and collecting in drifts along the hedges. If this snow freezes, will the roads close?
“This storm’s turning into a blizzard.”
“You read my mind, but we’ll be cozy inside.” He opened the restaurant’s door, and the aromas of flame-broiled steak and smoked brisket filled his senses. Dismissing the uncertainties, he breathed deeply, and his optimism returned.
“Table for two, Luke?” The grinning host grabbed two menus.
“Yup. Charlie, I’d like you to meet my cousin, Maeve.”
“Do you live in the area, Maeve?” Speaking over his shoulder, he guided them to a window booth beneath an antler chandelier.
“Nope, just visiting a few days, at least ’til my car’s repaired.”
“Hope you enjoy your stay.” He handed her a menu. “Can I get you two something to drink?”
“Would you like wine?” Curious about her tastes, Luke turned toward her. “Red or white?”
“I like a good cabernet or tempranillo now and then.”
Luke exchanged a grin with Charlie. “A woman after my own heart.”
“What’s so funny?” She looked from one to the other.
“Luke’s winery makes cabernet sauvignon and tempranillo.”
“What a coinci—” Her eyes sparkled. “Synchronicity.”
“Which would you prefer? A cab or tempranillo?”
“Tempranillo, especially if we’re having beef bourguignon.” She smiled at the host. “Which I hear is the house specialty.”
“Definitely a woman of refined tastes.” Luke exchanged another look with Charlie. “A bottle of tempranillo and beef bourguignon for two.”