Page 9 of Searching for Love

“I take it things were difficult?” She laid a hand over his hand.

He smiled. “Things were better when my dad wasn’t around. Still, I’m thankful my grandpa was there. He’s great with Sophia as well. She takes violin lessons from him.”

“He plays?” she asked.

“My grandpa plays all instruments of the heart,” he said in a thick accent, most likely mimicking the man himself.

She chuckled. “I’d like to meet him.”

“You will, tomorrow. He and my mom will be here to help around the place.” He glanced around. “If you’re still set for helping tomorrow?”

“I have nothing else to do.” She hid a smile.

“We can start in the kitchen,” he suggested as he lifted his face to the sun.

“What are you going to do with this area?” she asked, motioning to the small alley they were sitting in.

“This?” He frowned. “Right, I own this entire alley.”

“You could always add some string lights and put a few tables out here,” she suggested. “Switch that side door out for a glass one so waiters can come and go? There’s even room for a stage for a band or karaoke.”

“That’s a great idea.” He jumped up and walked around the area as if seeing it with renewed vision. “There might be room for a band here.” He motioned. “Live music.” He snapped his fingers. “Something no one else in town has.”

Her heart swelled at the thought. He was right. No other restaurant in town had live music.

Suddenly, he pulled her up from her spot on the curb and spun her around.

“There’s even enough room here to dance.” He laughed as she laughed with him.

They were breathless when the Myers, an older couple that she’d known her entire life, strolled by with their schnauzer, Buster, and saw them.

“Afternoon,” Lucas said joyfully. “Nice day for dancing.”

Mrs. Myer smiled while Mr. Myer frowned profusely. Then again, the man always frowned.

“I don’t think they were impressed,” Lucas whispered when the couple continued walking.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Myer is never impressed with anything I do. I suppose that’s why he gave me a C in geography class,” she joked.

Lucas sighed. “It must be nice knowing everyone in town.” He held the door open for her as they stepped back into the building.

“Yes and no. It has its downsides,” she admitted. “For one, I could never get away with anything. The one time I thought I had, I strolled into the house to find out that my parents had been called by three do-gooders”—she air quoted—“to inform them of my misdeeds.”

“What had you done?” he asked, leaning a little closer to her.

“I don’t know you well enough to tell you. Yet,” she teased.

“Fair enough.” He nodded quickly. “I once tore the head off my rival’s mascot and replaced it with a really big stuffed bear head.” He smiled. “Never got caught though. I guess there weren’t any do-gooders”—he mimicked her air-quoting move—“who cared to call my mother.”

She threw up her hands. “I stole Cilla.”

“Cilla?”

She took a deep breath. “Cilla was a pig that our sixth-grade class had raised for our 4H project. After I found out that she was going to be slaughtered if she didn’t win the blue ribbon, I stole her, took her on a very long walk, and then released her into the Miller’s field.”

“What happened?” he asked, leaning on the counter that she was currently wiping down without realizing she was doing so.

“Mr. Miller returned Cilla to the 4H barn and, when Cilla won second place, he purchased her himself and she lived happily ever after on the Miller farm until she died of old age.” She smiled happily.