Lighthouse Road (Cedar Cove #1)(27)

“Ah,” he said, his eyes sweeping over her. “You look fabulous. Wow.”

Assuming something formal, Olivia had gone to a lot of trouble. The navy-blue wool dress was new; the straight skirt was a flattering mid-calf length, and the bodice, decorated with a row of gold buttons, was formfitting. She purposely wore heels and dark hosiery, contrasting the outfit with the pearls her father had bought in Japan fifty years ago.

“Am I overdressed?” She asked the obvious. They hadn’t discussed where they’d be dining.

“No,” he said. “I’m underdressed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Where are we going for dinner?” She should have asked much sooner.

Looking embarassed, he told her, “I was thinking about the Taco Shack.”

The restaurant, on the highway outside town, was a roadhouse of sorts, where patrons ordered at the counter and served themselves. The food was some of the best in the area; it was also fast and cheap. The salsa was freshly made every day and known all over the county.

“I’ll change,” Olivia offered quickly, and left the room before Jack could protest. So much for a hot date. She’d been thinking they’d linger over wine and candlelight, and he’d envisioned tacos and margaritas. Fortunately she was a flexible person.

When she returned, Olivia had changed into blue-green plaid wool slacks and a matching green turtleneck sweater. “That’s better,” she said, hoping to put him at ease.

“You don’t mind?”

“I love the Taco Shack,” she assured him, and it was the truth. She should’ve known better than to expect fine French dining. Jack was a taco kind of guy.

He looked vastly relieved as he led the way to his vehicle. She could tell he’d made an effort to clean off the front seat of his car; he’d tossed everything in the back, which was littered with wadded-up bags from fast-food establishments, old newspapers, books and a variety of other junk she didn’t get a chance to see.

Jack seemed oblivious to it all. By nature, Olivia was neat and orderly. One look at his Ford Taurus told her Jack Griffin was her exact opposite.

Olivia had to fumble with her seat belt before she managed to secure it. It was obvious he didn’t often have anyone riding with him.

“Have you ever had the stir-fried jalapeños at the Shack?” he asked as they headed out of town.

“You can stir-fry them?” Olivia asked, thinking that sounded more like Chinese cooking than Mexican.

“Sure. Just until the skins start to blister. Then they squeeze lime juice over top, sprinkle on seasoned salt—and serve them with plenty of water.”

“You eat whole jalapeños?”

“You don’t?”

Olivia enjoyed a bit of spice now and then, but she wasn’t interested in experiencing pain as part of her meal. “Food isn’t supposed to hurt.”

Jack laughed. “You have a sense of humor. I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Olivia liked him, too.

He pulled into the gravel parking lot outside the Taco Shack and hurried around to help her out. Not until he slammed the car door did she notice that it was dented and didn’t close properly.

Ever the gentleman, he held the door to the roadhouse for her. They walked up to the counter, and stood in line; the place was deservedly popular. Olivia studied the menu, hand-printed on a large board suspended from the ceiling. She ordered the combination plate, which included a cheese enchilada and a bean burrito, and iced tea. Jack ordered something she’d never heard of, plus a side of the stir-fried jalapeños. That suggested he wasn’t planning to kiss her—definitely a disappointment.

She found them a seat by the window, vacated by another couple barely a minute before. When she climbed over the bench of the red-painted picnic table, Olivia was grateful she’d changed out of her dress. She hadn’t been here in ages and had forgotten just how rustic it was. The window was decorated with what resembled red Christmas lights, but on closer examination, she saw they were shiny plastic peppers. She found that an amusing detail.

Jack brought napkins and plastic forks to the table and a large container of fresh salsa. When their order was ready, he collected both plates, then went back for their drinks. The food smelled delicious and she closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of Jack’s peppers and the mixture of salsa and coriander.

They talked comfortably about a variety of topics: town politics, the paper, the play they’d both seen. She felt as though she’d known him for years. She wouldn’t have said he was her type, but she was beginning to believe she didn’t have one. Stan was an engineer, and like her, a highly organized person.

“Did I mention my son recently got married?” she said casually.

“No.” Jack grinned widely. “That’s great!”

“He’s about to make me a grandmother.”

He gave her an engaging grin. “You’re the most beautiful grandmother I’ve ever seen.”

Her ego thanked him. “Both the marriage and the pregnancy came as a surprise, but I don’t mind.” Well, she did…a little. “James sounded happy and although I haven’t met his wife, she seems very nice.” Olivia had her fears, but she wouldn’t second-guess her son and his decisions. This was his life, not hers.

“Stan and I were on the phone, discussing the prospect of becoming grandparents when you arrived. That’s why it took me so long to answer the door.”