Free Beauty and the Brit by Lizbeth Selvig Page B

jelly.
    Not that he could blame her for wearing the weight of the world on her slender, angry shoulders.
    “Not much to see until we get a bit closer to town.” He broke the silence and nodded to the expanses of corn and wheat fields.
    “It’s incredible,” she replied. “I forget there’s this much empty space in the world.”
    “After living in the city, this must seem barren. There’ll be houses here soon, though. Land is getting sold acre by acre.”
    “That’s sad.”
    “We’re just far enough from large cities that it’s taken a while for the growth to reach us. But Faribault and Northfield, the biggest cities in this area, are spreading outward.”
    “Until just now, they were foreign names on a map.” She turned to him, her eyes big and blue. “This could be Mars.”
    He grinned. “You might be even more convinced of that after meeting the townsfolk .” He drawled out the word with an exaggerated American accent.
    It had taken him plenty long enough to fit into the quirky community—not that small English towns were any less strange—but he’d grown to love the people and this place he’d called home the past ten years.
    “I’ve already met the local law. I’m a little afraid to show my face.”
    She turned a grimace into a passable smile, and his pulse thrummed. He’d been right about the smile. It set off her rich russet hair like sunshine set off a lake.
    “Don’t worry about him. The word is this job is a bit of a step down for our Chief Hewett. He arrived thinking this is the lawless West, and he’s the man to clean it up. He’ll mellow out. If your brother and his mates happen to show up, they’d not get far. Kennison Falls manages to take care of its own.”
    “I’m not one of its own, though.”
    “That’ll change, I promise.”
    “Oh my gosh!”
    Her cry and gasp nearly made him swerve. He stared at her and then toward the “Welcome to Kennison Falls” sign, and he did swerve. Straight onto the shoulder and to a stop. In front of the sign stood a very large vehicle shaped like a giant hot dog.
    “What the devil?” He laughed.
    “Wonder Weenies,” Rio read off its side, and for the first time in his experience, her sapphire eyes flooded with mirth. “Seriously? This is the home of the Giant Wonder Weenie?”
    “Never seen it before in my life.” David stared at the bright monstrosity. “There’s a sign on it.”
    “‘Weenie Feed Fund-raiser for the Kennison Falls Library Association,’” Rio read. “‘August twenty-first and twenty-second. Sponsored by The Loon Feather and Bert’s IGA.’ Friends of yours?” Her wide, sweet lips parted into an enchanting bow.
    David swallowed. So many of their conversations had taken place under such dark circumstances; he’d never studied how appealing her lips were when they moved. How their plump fullness fit perfectly on her slightly cherubic face.
    “The Loon Feather is a town institution—a great restaurant and meeting place. Bert’s is where to go and complain about politics or the weather while you’re picking up your groceries. I’d reckoned to bring you both places.”
    “I’d definitely ask to go to the Weenie Feed if it was sooner than August twenty-first. Now, that’s a meal worth leaving the big city for.”
    So, she could joke about her situation—given the proper circumstances. He tucked the knowledge away and put his foot back on the accelerator.
    “It’s only two weeks from now. Maybe we can get you to the Weenie Feed.”
    “I certainly hope not,” she said, her smile leaving her eyes and freezing in place as the momentary cheeriness dissipated.
    T HEY ROLLED ALONG Main Street, and Rio knew David watched her, assessing her reactions. His gaze sent relaxing, almost physical, starbursts of tingles across her skin—a sensation she could definitely get addicted to—and she took in the appealing downtown under the narcotic haze of pleasure. She didn’t want to like what she saw, but the small