Lips pressed tight, she let him lead her down the street. Pop’s Bakery. She froze. “Somewhere else?” she asked, her voice tight. They could not be seen there. Lola Stephens was a dear but there was no bigger gossip in Stonewall Crossing. She’d light up like a Christmas tree over Ash Carmichael and want to know every little thing about him—including why they were having lunch together.
He kept going, taking hold of the door handle. “Your dad said this place was incredible,” Ash said. “No good?”
“It’s good.” But she wouldn’t budge.
“Then we should go in. Where it’s warmer. And there’s food. Since you didn’t eat this morning.” He paused. “And the baby—”
“Stop. Now. Ash,” she cut him off, looking over her shoulder, brushing past him into Pop’s Bakery.
Ash was chuckling, damn him.
“Renata, good to see you, young lady.” Carl Stephens, the owner of Pop’s Bakery, gave her a firm hug. “Out and about in this cold?”
“I was hungry. A little cold won’t stop me from eating your delicious cooking.” She smiled. “Besides, I had to bring our newest resident by. Carl Stephens, this is Ash Carmichael, the new veterinarian out at the university’s veterinary hospital.”
“Nice to meet you.” Carl shook his hand. “Can’t think of a better tour guide than Renata.”
“All part of the job.” She hoped that would end any further speculation Carl and his wife, Lola, might make about the pair. She knew better, but she still hoped.
“Let’s get you two fed.” Carl led them to a table in the middle of the room.
Considering there were plenty of other tables in far less prominent locations, she was tempted to ask for another one. But Ash was pulling a chair out for her.
“This is great,” Ash said.
Damn, if he wasn’t charming. His dark wind-blown hair, strong jaw and ruddy cheeks. And that smile. Her heart thumped—as if she needed further proof that she had no immunity to this man. She sat.
“Is that deer wearing a Christmas hat?” Ash asked, pointing to one of Carl’s annual decorations: a taxidermy head mount of a whitetail deer—decked out with a Santa hat and blinking Christmas lights.
“It is. Folk around these parts sort of expect it this time of year. Guess I do, too. Wouldn’t be Christmas without it.” Carl nodded. “You two look over the menus while I get Lola. If I let you leave without meeting her, I’ll be in the doghouse for a week.” Carl winked and disappeared into the back.
“You look ready to bolt,” Ash murmured.
“Lola Stephens is the loudest, nosiest busybody in town,” Renata whispered, leaning across the table. “Do not mention a thing about...well, you know what.”
He leaned forward. “My judging the Gingerbread Festival? Or the baby?” Ash whispered back, eyes sparkling. “Why did you want to eat here then?”
He was teasing her now? Grinning like that? “Ash Carmichael.” Her voice was shaking. “You are, without a doubt—”
“Wishing I’d kissed you proper before I left this morning?” he finished. “I am. I’ve been regretting it all morning.”
Renata was speechless, again. She was never speechless. Ever. But any attempt at a witty comeback fizzled out. Those gray eyes burned so hot her body shuddered from the heat. Which would be fine if they weren’t where they were... With Lola Stephens standing by their table, watching the two of them, all wide-eyed and with an even wider grin.
This is bad.
“Lola.” She sat back quickly, hoping the older woman hadn’t heard him. That would be so bad.
“I was waiting for one of you to see me.” She was delighted. Just delighted.
This was very bad.
Ash was on his feet. “You must be Lola Stephens? Clara said I had to meet you while I was in town.”
“She did?” Lola smiled.
“Ash Carmichael,” he said, taking her hand in his. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am.”
“Oh, poo, sugar. The pleasure is all mine.” Lola Stephens was blushing. Because Ash Carmichael was good. “Sit down, please. Now, why did Clara say you needed to meet me?”