“Coffee,” he said. “And a slice of whatever pie’s left.”
“There’s a piece of lemon meringue with your name on it.” She leaned in, efficiently flipped over the mug at his elbow and filled it without spilling a drop. And she did it all without stepping into his personal space. “I’ll be right back with that pie.”
Curious, Brody watched her as she crossed to the rack on the counter and plated up his slice. She looked different, somehow. He thought maybe she’d put on a few much-needed pounds since he’d first come back.
“You changed your hair,” he said, as Corinne set the pie in front of him.
Self-conscious, she lifted a hand to her all dark locks, pulled back in a low pony tail. “Seemed like time for a change,” she said.
It made her blue eyes stand out more and softened her face. “Looks nice,” he said.
Her cheeks pinked at the compliment. Brody didn’t think he’d ever once seen Corinne Dawson embarrassed.
“Thanks. Um, can I get you anything else?”
Without the automatic defensive barrier against her flirtation, Brody noted the dark circles under her eyes, the tired set to her shoulders. It was easier to see her as a person, as a single mom who’d got the short end of the stick in life rather than the girl he’d gone to high school with. He found himself saying, “Why don’t you have a cup of coffee with me? I don’t figure anybody else’ll be coming in before closing.”
Corinne glanced over at the open textbooks. “I should really—”
“Study?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Five minutes,” he said. “The break will do you good.”
After another moment of indecision, she retrieved her own coffee cup from the table and slid in across from him.
“What are you studying?” he asked.
“Nursing. I’m just taking a couple of classes this semester. Mama Pearl doesn’t mind if I do homework when things are slow.”
Brody smiled. “She takes good care of folks.”
“She’s been wonderful to me and Kurt. She’s the one that encouraged me to go back to school. Lance never—” She cut herself off and took a quick sip of coffee.
“Lance is your ex?”
Corinne gave a short, jerky nod.
Sensitive subject here, he thought. “Sounds like you’re well rid of him.”
“You have no idea,” she muttered. Squaring her shoulders, she mustered a smile. “So, opening night is tomorrow. I’m surprised Tyler’s not in here with you. Isn’t that a post-dress rehearsal tradition or something?”
It was Brody’s turn to hide his expression in his coffee cup. “We aren’t…together.”
“For God’s sake, why not?” The utter shock in her voice had him looking up.
“I think,” he said slowly, “that I screwed it up somehow. Again.”
“Then you need to figure out how to fix it,” declared Corinne, thunking her mug on the table.
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Brody lifted a brow. “That is…not the reaction I expected from you.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Flirting with you was a compulsion from the old days. I’ve got plenty on my own plate without adding a man into the equation. And anybody with eyes in their head can see that you and Tyler belong together. You always did.”
He sifted through the vague sense of insult and surprise. “Then why did you always try so hard?”