Ten Acres and Twins Read Free Page A

she said, perturbed with herself for feeling sympathetic toward the man she intended to manipulate over dinner.
    He looked up quickly after hearing the note of complaint in her voice. “Since I’m late, I’ll treat.”
    â€œThat’s not necessary.”
    â€œI insist,” he said with a wink and a grin. “What’s good here?” And with a simple change of expression, he became the man she knew. The one she’d met at the wedding.
    Charming. Devil-may-care. Lethally sexy.
    â€œDepends on what you want,” she answered tersely.
    He searched her eyes. “Are you mad at me for something?”
    â€œWhy would I be mad?” she asked, even more agitated with herself for being attracted to him, after all this time.
    â€œI don’t know, you just seem…perturbed.”
    She slapped the palm of her hand on the tabletop with a satisfying thump. “Let’s not start things off by arguing.”
    â€œI’m not arguing.”
    She knew that must be the voice he used with his clients when their feathers were ruffled, and she refused to be mollified. “But you’re telling me I’m mad, and I’m not—”
    She slammed her jaw shut when she noticed the hand reaching between them to pour water into Jack’s glass. The waitresswas leaning over them, so intent on her chore she seemed unaware that she’d interrupted a dispute.
    After topping off Abby’s water, she started to scuttle away, only glancing up when Jack thanked her for the water. That one peek caused a sudden shift in her demeanor. Her brisk pace slowed to a hip-swinging saunter as she headed back toward the kitchen.
    Jack frowned into his menu again, seemingly unaware of the flirtation. But Abby had noticed, and she wasn’t surprised. There was something about the man that made women fawn all over him.
    Her sister had always said he was the Romeo type, but Abby knew better. He might very well be a good-time lover to many, but he was a true love to no one. Jack Kimball was your everyday, garden variety Casanova.
    Since she’d decided on her menu choices long ago, she took another opportunity to scrutinize him. There was nothing spectacular about his looks—she’d seen men more handsome who didn’t hold her attention for longer than the bat of an eyelash. But Jack had something unique.
    He was lean and wiry, and his sun-kissed brown hair waved wildly around his head. His style of dress tended toward the casual. Even at the wedding he’d loosened his tie before the last “I Do.” He didn’t work too hard on his appearance.
    But his sky-blue eyes were nice, and probably responsible for half his appeal.
    But it wasn’t their hue she noticed, it was their expression. Thick lashes framed eyes that drank you in as if he’d never get his fill of your beauty.
    If you were the one lucky enough to have caught his attention, that is. For a brief moment in time.
    The waitress returned with her pad and pencil. “I see your date arrived,” she said, smiling at Abby now. “No wonder you waited so long.”
    Abby looked back across the table just in time to catchJack’s wink at the young girl. Abby snorted, and said, “He’s not my date.”
    â€œReally?” The girl smiled brightly at Jack. “Are you ready to order?”
    Abby refused to be ignored. She was the lady; she would order first. “I’ll have the roast chicken salad,” she said, breaking into their mutual rapport. “Vinegar and oil on the side, and a glass of your house white wine.”
    The waitress wrote frantically. When she was finished, she grinned at Jack again.
    He looked across at Abby with a thoughtful frown, then back down at the menu. After a few seconds of silence, it became obvious that he wasn’t ready to order.
    Abby expected the waitress to hurry off to the kitchen to accomplish something while her prized patron made a