Page 53 of Finding Forever

Laurel reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

Beth squeezed it back. For once, she didn’t need an answer about what happened next. She had an arts center to open, a daughter to help marry, and a man whose kiss had occupied far too many of her thoughts.

For now, that was more than enough.

Chapter 30

Dave drove toward Beth’s street before he admitted he was going to turn onto it.

He’d spent most of the day at Finley Point dealing with a delivery that had arrived three hours late and a subcontractor who’d somehow managed to read the wrong set of plans. By five-thirty, he was tired, hungry, and more than ready to go home.

At least, that was what he’d told himself. Then he’d remembered Kathleen’s sign outside her café that morning.

Friday Special: Bison Burgers and Huckleberry Pie.

And somehow his truck had ended up two blocks from Beth’s house.

Dave slowed at the intersection. He could go home. There was food in his refrigerator. Not much, but enough to make an omelet. He could watch television, call Mark, and get an early night.

Or he could ask Beth to have dinner with him. His hands tightened around the steering wheel. He’d spent forty years making decisions that involved hundreds of thousands of dollars, complicated building codes, and crews of men waiting for him to tell them what to do.

Apparently, asking a woman to eat a hamburger with him was where his courage ended.

Dave turned onto Beth’s street.

Her truck was in the driveway and the kitchen lights were on. Before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled up beside the curb.

He was halfway to the front door when he wondered whether he should have called first. Maybe Beth already had plans. Maybe she’d eaten. Maybe showing up unannounced after they’d kissed was too much.

He nearly turned around.

Then the porch light came on and the door opened.

Beth stood there wearing jeans and a pale blue sweater. “Dave?”

Too late now. “Hi.” He lifted one hand in greeting.

Her surprised expression became a smile, and just like that, he was glad he’d come.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I was on my way home from Finley Point.”

Beth looked toward the end of the street, then back at him. “You don’t live this way.”

“I know.”

Her smile widened.

Dave shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “I took a slight detour.”

“A slight one?” Beth leaned against the doorframe.

“About four miles.”

She laughed and opened the door wider. “You’d better come inside.”

The warmth of her house wrapped around him as soon as he stepped through the door. Something smelled faintly of cinnamon, and a pair of reading glasses sat on the table beside an open magazine.