Ean studied the menu. “What do you recommend?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Her response was pitch-perfect disdain.
He raised his gaze to Ramona. Was she warm enough in that low-cut, tight black minidress? Her straight black hair hung past her shoulders, framing her impressive breasts.
Ean frowned. She hadn’t even glanced at the menu. “Have you eaten here before?”
“Of course not.”
Why wouldn’t she have eaten at this restaurant? It was new and in the heart of their community.
“New businesses mean more employment opportunities. As mayor, don’t you think you should try them at least once?”
“No.”
It was going to be a long night.
Ean took in the restaurant’s beige-and-gray stone walls and wood trim. The lighting was low, giving the place a romantic ambience. He still noticed the other diners looking hastily away. So it hadn’t been his imagination. People were staring at them. The town’s prodigal son had returned home and was out for the evening with his high-school-sweetheart-turned-town-leader. He should have anticipated the stares.
A movement toward the front of the restaurant caught his attention. Ean froze. The hostess was leading Quincy and Megan to a nearby booth.
Impulse lifted him from his seat and prodded him to call across the aisle. “Quincy.”
“What are you doing?” Ramona came to life, hissing like an angry tigress. She glanced over her shoulder, then faced forward, squeezing her eyes shut.
Quincy turned toward Ean’s voice. His expression stiffened when his gaze dropped to Ramona. Megan looked around, too. She seemed surprised—and dismayed?—to see him.
Ean waved them over. “Join us.” Please.
For the second night this week, he hoped the company of friends would defuse an uncomfortable dinner.
“I don’t want them here.” Ramona roasted him with her glare.
Quincy and Megan consulted with each other. Megan shook her head twice in response to whatever Quincy said. Finally, the young hostess led the couple to Ean and Ramona’s booth.
Quincy must have met Megan right after the bookstore closed. What were they doing here together? They couldn’t be on a date. The idea threatened his appetite.
Megan carried her navy coat over her left arm. She wore a dark gray sweater dress. The color wasn’t appealing, but the material traced her slim curves and ended just below her knees. Her dark, wavy hair floated around her shoulders.
Ean waited until the hostess left before speaking. “What a coincidence, running into you tonight.”
“Not really.”
He ignored Ramona’s sarcasm and moved over to give Quincy more room.
Megan sat beside her cousin. “I thought you said you’d never eat here.”
Ramona’s scowl darkened. “This wasn’t my idea.”
Quincy opened the menu and studied its contents. “Refusing to eat at a perfectly good restaurant just because it’s in your backyard is nonsensical.”
Ean’s eyes widened. He didn’t think anyone had ever spoken so dismissively to Ramona before. A ghost of a smile softened Megan’s lips. Ramona’s scowl deepened.
Ean addressed his friend. “I take it you’ve eaten here before.” He meant to divide his attention equally between Megan and Quincy, but his gaze lingered on Megan.
“Several times.” Quincy sounded preoccupied.
Then why are you studying the menu as though you’ve never seen it before? And have you always come together? Are the two of you dating? Ean wouldn’t ask those questions—even though he was frantic for the answers.