Read Her Name Is Trouble: A small-town contemporary romance (The Daimsbury Chronicles Book 2) for Free Online Page B

and broke the stilted silence.
    “I do miss Texas, you know.”
    “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you that. None of my business.”
    “It’s okay.”
    She tilted her head to the side again; a gesture he was coming to see as utterly adorable and perfectly in keeping with her bright personality.
    “So since you work for TnT , that means you’ve been in the south often enough,” she continued. “Any favourites?”
    “Shrimp and grits,” he replied without any hesitation. “And I’d have killed to try one of those lattice pies.”
    “But you couldn’t given how they’re all made with all-purpose flour and probably have a tin of lard or vegetable shortening in the crust.”
    “Exactly.”
    Missy averted her face for a few seconds, and she clenched her fists even tighter around the sleeve edges. Something must be working at her. Had he done something awful by making her think of her home? He wouldn’t forgive himself if he had.
    “Missy—”
    “Tell you what,” she said and silenced him. “Why don’t you come for supper at my place on Thursday, when I’m off duty here? I’ll make you shrimp and grits as well as pie that you can eat.”
    The way she bit her lip after delivering her spiel told him she wasn’t as self-assured as she wanted him to think. And that, more than the prospect of good, safe food or even of being in her company, alone, tilted the balance of his answer.
    “You got yourself a deal,” he said with a smile.

 
    Chapter Five
     
    Missy checked the pie again in the oven. She snorted—the huge 1940s-era Aga looked more like a monstrosity in the tiny confines of the cottage she rented at the back of Jenny Fortenberry’s shop that reminded her of the 7-11 back in the US. She’d scored the place when Jenny, a forty-something spinster until last year when she went through the Weight Watchers program, got swept off her feet by pub owner George Bennett and married him, settling across town in his house.
    Ben had raised the first three months’ rent and Missy had paid him off just a few weeks earlier, with her latest pay check. She could now look forward to buying some second-hand clothes with the money that would remain on the next payday. Jenny had left behind everything down to the last lace doily so Missy hadn’t needed any household stuff.
    The shrimps were done, and the grits simmered on the stove. Now she just hoped Luke hadn’t been bitten by the bug of being fashionably late in the fashion world, and dinner should run like clockwork.
    What had she been thinking, asking him over to supper? And alone, on top of it, at her place?
    She had no more time to ponder the query because a knock came at the door. A glance at the clock on the mantel showed her the hour to be on the dot. So he was also punctual.
    Missy lost her breath when she opened the wood panel and stopped dead to stare at him on the doorstep.
    In jeans that highlighted his long legs and a ripped T-shirt that clung only just so to his muscular torso, he looked every inch the male model. Add to it that tousled hair and he could pass for a sinful vision that had just tumbled out of bed. And the smile he gave her... How could she not swoon?
    After swallowing down the drool in her mouth, she forced out a smile. Yes, she must probably look totally deranged right now, but what would anyone expect upon such a sight? Thank goodness she also didn’t look too shabby compared to his casual clothing, having pulled on her best jeans and a khaki sweater with long sleeves.
    From behind his back, he pulled out a bunch of flowers. Daisies; how sweet. The simple blossoms agreed with her sensitivities more than the illustrious Black Baccarat roses Blake had had flown in for her from Holland once.
    The thought of her father’s minion threatened to throw a pall of gloom on her evening, and she could not have that. So she smiled again at Luke, this time a genuine expression, and accepted the flowers.
    “They’re beautiful,” she