Coming Home(7)

She heard him chuckle, and when she looked up, he was still smiling down at her with those dimples. “Well, damn. Can I try again?”

She shrugged. “Go for it.”

Daniel reached forward and opened the driver’s side door for her, bowing slightly as he gestured for her to have a seat. “Here you go, milady. My deepest and sincerest apologies for insinuating that you were a stupid *.” He straightened. “How was that?”

“Better,” she said through a laugh as she turned to get into the car. Just before she slid inside, her eye landed on the bay window in the kitchen. She could see Catherine sitting alone at the table, cautiously sipping her tea.

As Leah sat in the driver’s seat, she turned to look up at Daniel. “I’m glad she has you,” she said sincerely. “Don’t ever stop taking care of her.”

She watched his dimples fade as his expression fell, and then he nodded.

“It was nice meeting you,” Leah said, reaching to close the car door, and he stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets again.

“You too,” he said absently.

She smiled as she pulled the door shut and started the car. Daniel held up his hand as he took another step back, and she returned the gesture as she pulled out onto the street.

She liked the idea of him taking care of her. That kind of thoughtfulness was a trait that jumped out at Leah now, because the absence of it should have been the red flag in her last relationship.

Whatever the reason, she couldn’t deny that it was extremely attractive when a guy was as family-oriented as Daniel seemed to be.

And there was something inherently attractive about a guy with manners, too—the way he had apologized for his language, how embarrassed he’d looked at having offended her.

Who was she kidding? There was something attractive about him. Period.

The pitch-black hair with the light eyes, the masculine jaw with the boyish dimples. He had the kind of face she wanted to stare at, just to appreciate the way all the pieces complemented each other.

But of course, she hadn’t done it. That would have been weird, and completely inappropriate.

For a second, Leah found herself wishing she knew his last name. After all, if he had a Facebook profile, she could examine his picture as long as she wanted without it being weird—

The second the idea crossed her mind, her cheeks flooded with heat, even though no one was privy to the ridiculousness of that last thought but her.

What the hell was she doing?

Since when was she the kind of girl who stalked guys on the internet? Since when was she the kind of girl who pursued guys at all? She’d never been the one to initiate a relationship. Besides, she hadn’t been involved with a guy in two years, nor did she have any desire to be.

Although, if all it took to turn her into a creeper was a pair of dimples and some manners, maybe there was some subconscious part of her that was tired of being alone.

Leah shook her head at that; she wasn’t tired of being alone. She was just tired, and it was making her scatterbrained. She leaned over and turned on the radio, letting the music chase away her thoughts as she pulled up to the intersection.

Giovanni’s was about six blocks from her old house; it was an old-fashioned, family-owned Italian deli that hadn’t changed since she’d first been there with her parents as a little girl. The red awning out front was faded and worn so that it appeared to be almost pink, and the white block letters that spelled out the store’s name were now a murky, grayish color. As Leah pulled onto the deli’s block, she was reminded of something else about the place that never changed: there was a line nearly out the door. It was a popular deli on an average day, but during Christmastime it was borderline legendary.