Winning Her Heart. Harmony Evans

been a little distracted ever since I walked in,” he replied, temporarily forgetting his hunger for food.

      He looked up and caught Jasmine watching him, a little smile on her lips, as she poured a draft beer.

      Lucy glanced between the two and narrowed her eyes. Known around town for having psychic abilities, Micah wondered if she saw the spark between him and Jasmine, or if it was just his imagination.

      “Don’t you go taking up my granddaughter’s time,” she warned. She tossed her head to the side and flattened one hand on the bar. “She has other customers and besides, she belongs to me.”

      Her voice, though kind, seemed overly protective. What did the woman think he was going to do? Kidnap the girl?

      Micah lifted both hands up, hoping to quell Lucy’s fears.

      “Hold up. You have a granddaughter?”

      He didn’t even know Lucy had children. On the other hand, he wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t the type to delve into someone’s personal life or even listen to the gossip that ran rampant in the small town.

      “Isn’t she beautiful?” She beamed a megawatt grin, followed by a dismayed frown. “Wait. Don’t answer that. Just eat.”

      Between mouthfuls, he said, “You’re both beautiful. Must run in your family.”

      Jasmine wiped her hands and leaned against the back of the bar. “I didn’t want to believe you, but you’re right, Gram. He’s just like a Langston. A total flirt.”

      He put his sandwich down. “Takes one to know one,” he teased good-naturedly, unable to help himself.

      “Come on, you two. Break it up,” Lucy said, waving her hands like a referee.

      His eyes caught Jasmine’s again, and he shrugged in spite of the flame of interest he saw there. It was time to change the subject before he got into trouble.

      “How long have you owned the diner, Lucy?”

      “Over fifty years. I moved to Bay Point when I was twenty-two years old.”

      “That’s the same age I was when I opened up my first restaurant,” he exclaimed, surprised he had something in common with the feisty woman. “Now I have three.”

      Jasmine whistled. “Three restaurants!”

      “It’s not easy, but somehow I make it work.”

      “One is enough for me,” Lucy said. “I’m so blessed that Jasmine moved here to help out.”

      “Oh? How long have you been in Bay Point?”

      “Only a few months.”

      “She’s been a godsend,” Lucy said, looking over her shoulder as she rang up a customer. “I don’t know what I would do without her.”

      “It’s been about two years since I’ve been back in Bay Point,” Micah said, trying a more direct track to get the information he needed. He’d almost forgotten why he’d stopped there in the first place.

      Although the restaurant appeared to be doing well, he knew that keeping it that way was tough. If he did choose to open up his own across the street, Lucy’s customers would have a choice. He was confident that most would choose to spend their hard earned dollars at Society Red.

      “Things sure have changed. There are lots of new restaurants in town. Have they affected your business? Have you lost any customers?”

      Jasmine cut in, her tone sharp. “That’s none of your—”

      Lucy turned and laid a hand on her granddaughter’s arm. “Mind your manners.”

      “I mean. We’re doing fine,” Jasmine amended, folding her arms.

      Micah wiped his mouth with his napkin, hiding his frown of concern. Without meaning to, he’d stepped onto some invisible battleground between the two women.

      He sighed inwardly. Though he was curious, Jasmine was right. It was none of his business.

      “Lunch is our best time, though dinner is pretty steady, too,” Lucy added as she lifted the pass-through. “I’d better get back and start prepping tonight’s specials.”

      “Anything I can do to help?” he offered. “I know my way around a kitchen.”

      “Thanks, but no.” Lucy gave him a quick hug. “Careful what you ask for Micah or we’ll find something for you to do around here eventually. Won’t we, Jasmine?”

      Micah finished his sandwich while Jasmine took care of other customers at the bar.

      When she returned, she cleared away his empty plate and placed it underneath the counter.

      “How long are you in town?” she asked.

      “I’m just visiting. I’ve got to get back to Portland in a few days.”

      “Is that where you live now?”

      He shrugged. “Sometimes. I actually have an apartment in each city where I have a restaurant, so Portland, Chicago and New York City. I bounce around a lot.”

      “Sounds like fun, but I prefer to call one place home.”

      “You’ve only been here a little while. Is Bay Point ‘home’ for you already?” he teased.

      “Time will tell.” A shadow crossed her face, and he sensed she was unhappy. “My grandmother needs me.”

      She laid his bill on the counter. “I hope you enjoyed everything.”

      He barely glanced at the amount and reached into his back pocket for his wallet, keeping his eyes on hers.

      “I did, and if I said something that offended you earlier, I’m sorry.”

      Jasmine bit her lip and she seemed nervous. “You didn’t. I’m just protective of her, that’s all.”

      “And she seems protective of you,” he said, handing over his platinum credit card. “Sounds like she really relies on you.”

      “Lunchtime is busy and she needs the help.”

      She shrugged her shoulders, then glanced over at the kitchen. “But I do more than pour drinks, she’s been doing the books by herself all these years, by hand no less. I’m bringing her into the 21st century.”

      “Kicking and screaming?”

      Jasmine laughed. “Oh, yeah. Definitely.”

      “That’s wonderful. Do you help with the cooking too?”

      “No way. I try to stay out of the kitchen as much as possible.”

      She asked him if he wanted anything else, and he shook his head. He had other things to do that afternoon, but he also didn’t want their conversation to end.

      “I could give you a cooking lesson.”

      Jasmine pursed her lips. “Oh really? Can you give me an idea of what the first class would be like, so I can judge if I’m interested?”

      “How about I teach you how to make homemade spaghetti sauce? And then how to cook the perfect pasta al dente? There’s an art to cooking, you know.”

      Her half smile was sexy and dismissive at the same time. “Thanks, but with all I have to do around here, I don’t think I have time.”

      She handed him the receipt, which he quickly signed. She tried to reach for his pen, but he held on to it.

      “Wait. Before I go, I have something to ask you.”

      Jasmine furrowed her brow, but he couldn’t tell if she was annoyed or curious.

      “What is it?”

      “Do you?”

      He