Free Lover's Lane by Jill Marie Landis Page B

just passing through?”
    Carly shoved the order onto a clip on the chrome wheel and heard Jake explain that he’d originally just driven up for the weekend but that he might end up coming back. Carly reached for a tall glass, filled it with ice and then with Jake’s soda.
    “Selma, your orders are up!” Joe, who never missed a thing, not even from the kitchen, began pounding the bell on the window ledge.
    Carly rotated around the tables, making certain her customers had what they needed. When she returned to the counter, Jake’s patty melt was ready. She set it before him and watched him pour a puddle of ketchup on his plate.
    “Your boss is quite a character.” He glanced over his shoulder at Selma, who was chatting with an elderly woman lingering over a slice of apple pie.
    Carly laughed. “You don’t know the half of it.”
    “I’d like to hear all about it sometime.” He fell silent for a moment before he added, “You have a beautiful smile, Carly. You should wear it more often.”
    Jake watched Carly’s cheeks bloom at his compliment.
    She ignored it but the smile lingered.
    “How’s the patty melt?”
    “Everything you said it would be.”
    She left him to circulate around her station again, pouring coffee refills, greeting customers, delivering orders. She was definitely a pro, doing ten things at once and smiling the whole time.
    Selma was filling a plastic bamboo salad bowl behind the counter when Carly walked back over to check on him. Jake lowered his voice.
    “Is working here the reason you can’t go to dinner with me tomorrow night? Or will you be at the gallery again?”
    “I don’t really work there. I only cover for Geoff on occasion. I’m here every Saturday night because the other girls usually have dates.”
    “You don’t date?”
    “I told you last night, I prefer to spend time with my son.”
    He understood what she was saying, but something in her eyes told him that she felt differently, that she wouldn’t mind dating if the right man came along. She lingered long enough to ask if he wanted more soda.
    No sooner had she left than Selma walked over again.
    When the cook started pounding on the order bell, Selma turned around and yelled, “Keep your pants on, José. I hear ya.” She leaned over until she was eye to eye with Jake.
    “Did I hear you just ask Carly out for dinner tomorrow night?”
    “You’ve got very good ears, Selma.”
    “That’s not the only good thing I’ve got.” She winked. “If Carly suddenly found herself with the night off tomorrow, would you ask her out again?”
    “Sure. But maybe she’s just using work as an excuse.”
    Selma glanced across the room. Carly was in deep conversation with a local cop. Jake had to give Carly credit. She was as adept as a chameleon at hiding out in the open.
    “Try asking her again tonight.” Selma suddenly straightened and gave a slight nod, indicating Carly was on her way back. “If it doesn’t work out,” Selma winked, “I wouldn’t mind spending time with you. I close up at eleven.”

9
    SATURDAY MORNING, THE METAL BLEACHERS AT THE T-BALL diamond were as cold as they were hard.
    Chris’ team was scattered over the field dressed in matching gray T-shirts emblazoned with sinister black stingrays. Glenn had Chris playing shortstop, but at the moment Chris was busy writing his name in the soft infield dirt with the toe of his shoe.
    Carly shoved her hands into the pockets of her hooded sweatshirt and yelled, “Be ready, Chris!”
    Her son’s face lit up with a smile wide as the Pacific. He beamed and waved just as the batter hit the ball off the T and headed right toward him.
    After two attempts, Chris picked up the ball. Thankfully for him, it was a good thirty seconds before the batter realized he was actually supposed to run to first base.
    Carly hid a smile behind her hand. The games were little more than comedies of error, the kids never quite sure what was going on.
    Tracy Potter, seated two